Second Chances
Williams’ POV
The words hung in the air, slicing through me with a pain so sharp it felt physical. My hand instinctively went to her shoulder, pulling her closer. "Cleopatra..." My voice cracked, and the need to soothe her, to somehow make all this hurt vanish, overwhelmed me. I wanted to protect her from every wound, from every ache she bore in silence.
Yet, she turned her face away, avoiding my gaze, and I could feel her body tense, shoulders trembling beneath my touch. “Why can’t you just let me be?” she whispered, her voice a mixture of exhaustion and despair. “Are you here because of the pregnancy? You didn’t want your seed to be a bastard, so you marked me, didn’t you? Now that the baby’s gone... why are you here, Williams?”
The raw vulnerability in her voice stunned me. I pulled her close once more, my own voice trembling. "You’re wrong," I said softly, stroking her hair. "I didn’t mark you because of the child, Cleopatra. I marked you because I love you. I’d have done it all over again, even before I knew we were mates." My words came out in a rough whisper, each one carrying a weight that I hoped would reach her heart.
She let out a muffled sob, her fists clenching at my chest in frustration. “Then why didn’t you let me mark you?” Her voice cracked as she looked up at me, anger and hurt flashing in her gaze. “You pulled away like I was someone you didn’t want. Someone you loathed.”
My heart sank, understanding dawning as I looked into her tear-filled eyes. Cupping her face in my hands, I made sure she was looking directly at me. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want you, Cleopatra. It was never that. I just... I didn’t want my pack to think I’d betrayed them by taking the mark of someone they still couldn’t trust.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest. “But I’ve rectified that. They know now that you’re my mate, my equal, and nothing will change that. Infact, I want you to mark me. And I want it now.”
I pulled down my collar, baring my neck to her, hoping she’d see the sincerity in my eyes. But she shook her head, her lips forming a faint, bittersweet smile. “Not yet,” she whispered.
I nodded, respecting her decision, even if it stung. Slowly, I laced my fingers with hers, taking a deep breath as I looked into her eyes. “Then come back with me,” I said softly. “Stand by my side as my queen. The coronation is soon, Cleopatra, and I want you there with me.”
Shock flickered across her face, leaving her speechless. For a moment, we stood in silence, and then her gaze softened. “I... I didn’t lose the baby,” she finally admitted, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I just thought… I thought if you believed the baby was gone, you’d leave.”
Relief flooded my chest. I placed my hand on her stomach, feeling the warmth beneath my palm as the enormity of her words settled in. “Thank the heavens,” I breathed, feeling my knees weaken. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a small velvet box, and dropped to one knee, opening it to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Cleopatra,” I said, my voice filled with a determination I’d held back for too long. “I’ve carried this with me, hoping for the chance to ask you. Will you marry me? Will you be mine, now and always?”
Her initial hesitation vanished as a smile broke through her tears, and she nodded. With a mixture of joy and tenderness, I slid the ring onto her finger, sealing a promise I’d made to her long before this moment. We shared a kiss, one that held all the love, hope, and dreams we’d been too afraid to express.
My lips moved against hers slowly, savoring every inch of her mouth. She responded with the same fervor, her fingers weaving through my hair, pulling me closer as if to erase all the distance that had once been between us.
Her lips were soft, intoxicating, and the world around us blurred, leaving just the two of us. I could feel her heartbeat racing against my chest, our breaths mingling as we clung to each other, lost in the passion of the moment.
As the kiss deepened, the weight of every struggle, every heartbreak melted away, replaced by the certainty that we were exactly where we were meant to be. I held her tightly, letting the depth of my love show through every touch, every whispered breath against her lips.
Her fingers traced my jawline, sending shivers down my spine, and I kissed her with a fierceness that I hoped would chase away every shadow of doubt that lingered in her heart.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, breaths still mingling, I felt a peace I hadn’t known in years. Together, we walked back toward the cabin, her hand still firmly clasped in mine.
Inside, I announced to Mr. Alex and his family that we’d be leaving soon, but they quickly urged us to stay the night—it was getting late, and the road back would be treacherous in the dark. I glanced at Cleopatra, who gave a slight nod, and we agreed to stay, joining them in the warmth of the living room.
The atmosphere was light, and as Mr. Alex recounted stories of how Cleopatra had saved his family, my admiration for her grew even deeper. His words painted a vivid picture of her bravery, her kindness—a side I hadn’t seen enough of. “She gave us this cabin,” he said, his voice choked with emotion, “so we’d have a safe place, away from the danger that followed us.”
As I listened, pride swelled in my chest, and I reached for Cleopatra’s hand, grateful for this chance to be part of her world.
But as Mr. Alex continued, an uneasy feeling crept over me. I looked around, suddenly aware of Cleopatra’s absence. My gaze shifted, searching the room, and a chill ran down my spine when I realized she wasn’t there. And neither was Marcus.
An icy tension settled over me, instinct sharpening as I rose to my feet, trying to mask the panic rising in my chest.
My voice came out in a low whisper, almost as if to myself, “What the hell are you thinking, Marcus?”
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