Him, His Uncle And I!

Last favor

Rebecca's pov

We stood there, locked in an agonizing silence. My throat tightened, and my lips parted to speak, only to fail me each time. I opened and closed my mouth, helpless as the words tangled inside me. A single tear slipped down my cheek, hot and betraying, soon followed by another, until I couldn’t contain the flood. I clutched at my chest as though that could soothe the shattering inside me, the ache that was tearing through my very core. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold floor, my arms wrapping tightly around myself in a futile attempt to hold myself together.

Ryan shifted, taking a step closer. His hand reached out toward me, tentative yet somehow emotionless. I flinched, recoiling from his touch, and pushed his hand away with all the strength I had left. “I… I…” My voice wavered, barely above a whisper, “I accept your rejection.” The words were like glass slicing through my throat, leaving me raw and empty.

Ryan stopped reaching for me. His hand fell, hanging limply at his side before he took a slow step back. The movement seemed final, as though it signified the end of something irrevocable. I dropped my gaze, staring hard at the floor to hide the tears streaming down my face. It was just a floor, a dull, unremarkable thing, but somehow it seemed safer than looking at him—safer than letting him see the hurt he had carved so deeply into me.

Slowly, I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them in a desperate hug. Inside, my wolf was inconsolable. She howled and clawed at me, her sorrow a raw, visceral thing that shattered any lingering strength I had. She flung herself against the barrier I’d built between us, battering it again and again, her desperate cries echoing through my mind. Please, I begged her silently, please, stop hurting yourself. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

But my wolf wouldn’t listen. She couldn’t. She could only feel the emptiness left behind, and she kept slamming against it, her wails reverberating through me like a storm that wouldn’t end. Each time she threw herself at the wall, it was as if she was breaking something new inside me, another small piece of me torn away and scattered.

I forced myself to steal a glance at Ryan, hoping—no, praying—to see a flicker of regret, some sign that he felt even a fraction of the agony I did. But his face was expressionless, his gaze distant, as though he were somewhere else entirely. There wasn’t a hint of compassion or pain, only a quiet indifference that hollowed me out even further. My chest tightened painfully, and I had to bite my lip to stop the sob that clawed its way up my throat. Why? Why did he try to reach out? To pretend he cared for a second? Was it pity that made him stretch his hand toward me?

He shifted his weight, shuffling his feet as though he were uncomfortable under my gaze. I immediately looked away, my cheeks burning. It was worse than him rejecting me; it was him standing there, lingering only to witness the ruin he’d made of me. I felt like nothing more than a spectacle, something broken he could walk away from without looking back.

“About your friend,” he said, his voice hollow and formal. “We won’t be offering her a pack healer. There’s a hospital nearby. Take her there.” He paused, the words coming like final blows. “Consider this my last favor as your mate.”