Obsessed With My Alpha

Broken Elements

Jonah's POV

“Gema, wait!” I call out, the words spilling out louder than I intend, but she’s already turning away. Watching her shoulders tense and the hurt on her face is a twist in my chest I didn’t expect. I know I should let her go, give her the space she deserves, but some part of me can’t. I can’t just stand here and let her walk away like this, thinking I don’t care. Because I do.

I step forward, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides, and reach out instinctively, my fingers brushing her arm. She freezes at my touch, her body going tense, and for a moment, neither of us moves. I can feel the warmth of her skin, the softness of her presence, and the weight of what I’ve done presses down on me. I can see the shine in her eyes as she looks away, but there’s no turning back now. She’s waiting for me to say something, for me to give her something real.

“Gema…” I start, feeling her name leave my lips, soft and weighted, and I feel her tense even more. There’s something about the way she reacts, something I’m not used to, and I hate the way it makes my pulse quicken. She looks up at me, her gaze open and raw, and I feel a flicker of something in my gut I can’t quite name. She’s beautiful—she always has been. She’s got this kind of natural glow about her, hazel eyes that shine when she’s happy, this sandy brown hair that catches the light just right. And her body... well, she’s grown into herself more than I’d let myself admit.

But it’s not that. Her beauty isn’t the problem. It’s everything else. She’s my best friend, my little sister in every way that matters. I’ve never let myself see her as anything more because I know it’s not there. She’s not the one for me, not my fated mate. I’d know if she was. And I don’t deserve her. Hell, I’m too messed up to be the guy she wants me to be.

“What are you doing, Jonah?” she whispers, her voice low and a little shaky. “Why did you stop me?”

My hand drops from her arm, but I don’t step back. I can’t bring myself to. I want to make this right, but I don’t know how. “Gema,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady, though the words feel hollow. “You mean a lot to me. You know that, right?”

I hate how it sounds, hate that I can’t just say the things she wants to hear. But I don’t see her that way. I can’t. She’s been my rock, my constant, but she’s always been like family. I’ve never let my mind go there, not even now, even when I see the glint of tears in her eyes and the hurt written across her face. She deserves someone better, someone who’s whole and unbroken, someone who could love her the way she deserves.

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it, just something bitter that cuts deep. “As what, Jonah?” she says, her gaze sharp, almost accusing. “Your best friend? Your kid sister? Because that’s not enough for me.”

Her words hit me hard, and I can feel her hurt like a weight pressing down on me. I want to explain, to tell her why it has to be this way, but the words don’t come. What can I say? That I’m broken, that I don’t believe in the kind of love she deserves, that I don’t think my fate includes her? I can’t say that to her, can’t say that I’m too damaged to be the guy she needs.

“I didn’t know, Gema,” I say, softer this time, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. “I didn’t realize…” I trail off, knowing it’s weak, knowing it’s not what she needs to hear. But it’s all I have.

She looks at me, taking a shaky breath, her eyes fierce even through the pain. “Then show me, Jonah,” she whispers, her voice filled with a vulnerability that almost undoes me. “Let me be something more, even if it’s just for tonight.”

Her words hang in the air, thick and heavy, and I feel my mind go places I’ve never let it before, imagining her not as my best friend, not as my kid sister, but as something more. The thought is both foreign and strangely tempting, but I can’t let myself go there. She’s beautiful—God, I know she’s beautiful. The kind of beauty that could stop anyone in their tracks, with those hazel eyes and that fire that’s always simmering just beneath the surface. But I’ve always kept that part of her separate, untouched. I can’t change that now, can’t ruin what we have by giving in, even for a second.

“I can’t,” I say finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you, Gema. Not like that.”

The words come out heavy, final, and I see the hope drain from her face, leaving only the hurt behind. She takes a step back, crossing her arms around herself, and I feel the distance between us widening, the warmth fading. It’s like I’m watching a piece of my life slip away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“If you can’t be what I need, Jonah,” she says, her voice low but steady, with a hint of bitterness that cuts deep, “then let me go. Don’t keep stopping me.”

Her words hang in the air, and I feel the sting of regret, sharper than I expected. I want to tell her she’s wrong, that I need her too much to let her walk away, but I know I can’t give her what she’s asking for. All I can do is watch her as she turns, taking those first few steps away from me, her shoulders rigid, her steps heavy.

I watch her go, feeling the ache in my chest deepen, the emptiness settling over me as she fades into the darkness. She deserves someone who can give her everything, who will see her as more than a sister, more than a friend. But that’s not me. It was never going to be me.

And as I stand there alone, the weight of her absence pressing down on me, I feel the hollow realization that maybe, just maybe, I needed her more than I ever understood.