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Loco sat on the edge of his bed later that evening, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. The room was quiet, save for the soft tick of the old clock on the wall.
Selene had gone home after their walk, smiling warmly, unaware of the storm she left brewing in his chest.
He kept replaying that look on Bavanda’s face—pain. The same pain he had promised to protect her from, now he was he cause.
“I was supposed to protect her from that,” he whispered to himself. “Instead, I became the one who hurt her.”
But he couldn't blame himself, could he? She broke his heart—no, shattered it beyond recognition—and as if that wasn't enough, she embarrassed him in front of the whole pack.
She should have just taken the ring, she could have just said yes. Didn't she care about his ego at all? Or the image he wanted the pack to have of him so desperately.
Didn't she care about him at all?
He stood, pacing the room. The ring box still lay in the corner where it had landed days ago. The sight of it felt like a slap.
He had leaned into Selene because she made things easier. Simple and safe. Selene knew what she wanted, and she went for it without delay—a trait he so desperately wished Bavanda would have. With Selene, his heart wasn't hanging on a loose pendulum that could be easily swayed on a windy day. With Selene, the thread holding the pieces of his heart together wasn't thin. It was safe.
But he didn’t want safe. He wanted Bavanda—even if she broke him a thousand times over.
Wasn't that crazy?
“Why didn’t you stop me?” he muttered, as if his own reflection had betrayed him.
Tears pricked his eyes again. Not the burning kind. The silent kind that rolled down slow and steady while your chest caved in from the weight of regret.
“I’m losing her,” he whispered. “I'm losing myself. I don't know what to do anymore."
Loco heaved exhausted. "Is this what love is?” He mumbled to himself, his eyes fluttering shut as the pain overwhelmed him.
On her own part, Bavanda sat beneath the crescent tree, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself. The moonlight flickered above her, calm and cruel.
She hadn’t cried when she saw them together. It was too sudden that she couldn't cry. She told herself that she didn't have any reason to cry, that this was all her fault and she had to face the consequences.
But now?
Now the ache had taken root, deep and raw, and no amount of strength could hold it back.
“He looked happy,” she murmured to the wind. “And I was the one who made him sad.”
She bit her lips as the tears fell, the salty liquid reaching her lips. Bavanda didn't wipe them off, she didn't let herself go either. She just sat there, hanging on a thin thread between holding the pain in and letting it out.
Avynna’s footsteps were soft but sure as she approached. She didn’t speak. Just sat down beside her daughter and waited.
Minutes passed.
Then Bavanda cracked.
“It was supposed to be me,” she whispered. “I was supposed to be the one beside him. I wanted to say yes, Mom. I did. I just—I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I was drowning.”
Avynna reached for her hand, eyes full of knowing.
“And now?” she asked gently.
“Now I feel like I lost him forever,” Bavanda said, voice shaking. “I see him with her, and she’s so... warm. She’s everything I’m not. Everything I ruined.”
Avynna pulled her close, cradling her like she was little again.
“You’re not ruined,” she said softly. “You’re healing. And healing doesn’t always happen neatly. Sometimes, it’s messy. Sometimes, we hurt the ones we love without meaning to. But if it’s real—if it’s meant—then it finds its way.”
Bavanda closed her eyes against her mother’s shoulder, and whispered, “I hope he still loves me. I really do.”
***
The morning air was crisp, but not cold—just sharp enough to keep the senses alert. Warriors moved across the packed earth, dust rising beneath their feet as they trained, sparred, and laughed.
Bavanda stood at the edge of the field, arms folded tightly over her chest. She wore her usual black training leathers, but today they felt heavier—like they clung to the ache in her bones.
She hadn’t slept. Not really. Her body had rested, but her mind had twisted all night, caught in a loop of what she saw, what she felt... what she lost.
Now, she was here—trying to be the strong warrior everyone expected. Trying to be herself.
But her gaze betrayed her.
She found him instantly.
Loco stood in the center of the training circle, his shirt damp with sweat, dark hair sticking to his forehead. He moved like a storm—fluid, powerful, beautiful in the way only heartbreak could make someone.
He was sparring with Kai, one of the senior warriors, and laughter rippled from the circle. Not from Loco—he was focused, breathing hard—but from the bench just beyond.
Selene.
She was perched there, a soft blanket over her lap, cheeks flushed pink from the morning sun. She smiled as she watched the fight, laughing softly at something Loco must have said before the match began.
And Loco—he glanced toward her. It wasn't the deep stare Bavanda once knew. Just a brief, light touch of eyes. Heavy with the sense of familiarity, yet comfortable.
It made Bavanda feel like she had swallowed something sharp. Did he ever look at her like that?
She took a breath, about to turn away—when Loco looked at her.
Their eyes locked.
And in that suspended second, the rest of the world fell away. There were no warriors. There was no Selene trying to steal what didn't belong to her.
There were no whispers. Just them.
And in that heartbeat, he saw everything. The tears she had cried. The words she didn’t say. The regret she now wore like armor.
His expression faltered.
It wasn't anger, nor relief. It looked and felt too much like sorrow—a quiet aching sorrow.
He blinked, looked away—too fast, like the moment burned.
Bavanda’s throat tightened.
She forced her gaze down, pretending to check her gloves, pretending she hadn’t just cracked open all over again.
Across the field, Selene noticed. Her smile faded for just a moment, eyes flickering between them. But she said nothing. She simply sat straighter and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
And Bavanda?
She walked toward the weapons rack, spine rigid, shoulders proud—but her heart...
Her heart had dropped to her feet.
It was never just a second. It was everything. But that second had left her bleeding beneath her skin.
Hey Guys please check my other stories: The Lycan and His healer mate, His Purchased Wife, 365 Days in Dmitry Cage, The fatal Lycan and his mysterious mate, Xiol's Treasured Mate, The luna and the lycan, Flash Marriage: President's Seduction, In Adonis world, Alpha's little Vampire Mate on R.a.d.i.s.h.
Also you can check His Purchased wife on Readink. I'VE RELEASED A NEW STORY "MY STEPBROTHER STOLE MY V-CARD" ON IREADER.
Also please follow me on f. B Elk Entertainment and i.n.s.t.a( elk_entertainment) and j.o.i.n my F.B group Elk Entertainment Reading Group. Guys please check my co-authors books Alpha Evander's Rejection 2)
Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His father on Goodnovel
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