54. Pushing Away

Laura - The alpha summit
My efforts in preparing for this event have paid off. Everything is sparkling under the chandeliers, from the colorful roses to the neatly arranged ballroom.
One by one, members of Paul’s pack come forth and vouch for me in front of the alphas. Some faces I know all too well, like Maria and even Alin. Some I know less about, like that guy from the tech department whom I helped with that hidden love letter. Even Radu speaks in my favor.
I don’t know why, but every word shakes me to my very core. I’m not worthy of their trust, and I’m not here to stay. Fate brought me here, carrying me like a leaf in the wind. But I wanted a single thing, and that wasn’t to find a family or a place to belong.
To what lengths is Paul willing to go just to keep me by his side? Isn’t he scared that he’ll eventually lose everything just for me?
I feel a twinge of guilt for making him do so much, for making him do all this for me. He shouldn’t have to bear this burden.
My soul craves for me to accept this and stay. But I can’t. Paul deserves better. His existence is not for the sole purpose of my salvation. I’ll trudge my days as best as I can and carry the weight of my immortality on my own, without leaning on his shoulders.
I won’t let him be hurt anymore. I won’t allow him to suffer for my sake. I refuse to live like this.
The alphas nod in agreement when everyone has finished speaking. The matter is resolved: I am accepted into the Muntenia pack as Paul's mate.
He comes to me and gently places a soft kiss on my lips. It’s a promise worth more than a thousand words. Why? I haven’t asked for any of this.
"You're mine, Laura," Paul says quietly. "And now all know it and agree."
Torn between happiness and sadness, I finally realize I’ve let things go too far. It is now or never. And never is too much for a strigoi.
“Paul, can we have a word alone?”
"Sure. Let's head upstairs to our room. People won't notice we aren't here for a while."
I follow him upstairs in silence. Things will become rough shortly.
Once Paul closes the door behind him, he takes my hand. “What’s wrong? Needed a breather from the party?”
Shaking my head, I get lost in his eyes before I know it.
“No, I just needed to talk to you. Can we sit down somewhere?”
We end up on the bed. I sit beside him, keeping my distance.
“I want to tell you something, but I don’t know if you'll understand.”
He gets up and then kneels in front of me.
When I was little, I had the absurd idea that a monster was inside my closet. I used to fix my eyes on the furniture in the dark for a long time as if by staring at it, the monster wouldn’t come out. Now I look into Paul's eyes and see my reflection. I'm the monster.
Probably he senses my distress. His fingers stroll over my cheek. “I wish I were a real dragon so I could swallow your sorrows.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I don't deserve this. “I can't do this, Paul."
The thought of him getting hurt is terrifying. I'm terrified he'll die, and I'll be left behind. I'm terrified of everything because I care so much. And I don't want to care about anybody or anything. Fear causes us to make rash judgments. I take responsibility for my decision either way.
I want to shout, "I love you!" I swear that his presence close to me is all I want. But instead of expressing my real thoughts, I take a deep breath.
I open my eyes and look at him. He is so beautiful. I hate myself for disturbing his life.
Crushing our precious feelings, I spell out the words that will surely kill me more than his bite. “Paul, we should end this."
His expression changes instantly.
As I utter the words, my hands tremble. This way is better for everyone, for him most of all. I hide my hands behind my back. That’s my only tell since my face is blank.
“No,” he answers plainly.
“Why are you doing this? You should be tired of me by now.”
“That’s an easy one.” Paul smirks. “I do everything just because I—”
“I don’t want to hear it. All you’ve accomplished so far will slip through your fingers. And for what? For me? I don’t care about you. I only want to die! Why won’t you get this into that thick head of yours?”
No! This is not what I want to say. This is not what I want. However, this is what must be done.
His glare darkens, and he elevates my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Do you truly want this to end?"
“Yes!” I reply, poker-faced.
His lips brush mine once, twice, and then he lets me go. The moment his hand leaves my face, emptiness takes over. Have I done the right thing? Clenching my hands together behind my back, I push away the weakness. It’s pure selfishness to keep him by my side.
"You're a coward," he says.
My body stiffens.
Paul stares at me as if he can see straight through me. "Don't you dare think you do this for me. I'd rather have you by my side than live without you while having everything else." He hurls the door open and then stops, his back to me. “If you’re not here when I come back, I’ll understand your decision and not come after you. Choose wisely.”
I'm stunned. I'm left standing in the middle of the room, and my legs shake. I've always known that someday I would lose him. Better now than when he'll die, be it in a decade or half a century.
I almost break down in tears when I hear a woman’s voice.
“Paul doesn’t deserve this to happen to him the second time.”
Lexa stands right beyond the opened door, scowling at me with her arms crossed over her chest.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You know nothing about our relationship and have no right to meddle.”
She grins. "True. But, according to what I've heard, you have no idea how to make him happy. I'm going to comfort him."
“So the Moldova pack alpha likes snooping around and eavesdropping behind closed doors.” I take a step forward toward her. “You can't make him happy either."
"Of course I can't since he now loves you! I know Paul very well, and I've never seen him looking at someone like that, not even at me. But I'm more suitable to comfort him now than you."
She walks away, and I open my mouth to stop her. But I have nothing worthy to say.
I hear the sound of the mayhem in my soul. If it’s not beating, why my heart feels like breaking into tiny little pieces?