Obsessed With My Alpha

Jonah's Regrets

Jonah's POV

As Gema slips off my lap and walks out of the treehouse, I’m left there, sitting alone, feeling the weight of what just happened pressing down on me like a lead blanket. I close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the warmth of her kiss, the way she felt in my arms, even though I know it’s wrong to keep wanting this, to keep wanting her.

That kiss… it was supposed to be the end of it. One last touch, one last moment to get her out of my system. But it did the opposite. All I can think about now is how I’ve let her go, how I let her walk out of here looking at me like I’ve shattered her. And the worst part is, I knew exactly what I was doing, and I did it anyway. I’m the one responsible for putting that look in her eyes, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it.

I lean against the rough wood of the treehouse, letting the darkness settle around me. It’s fitting somehow, sitting here alone, letting the quiet cover up everything that’s churning inside me. I can’t seem to shake this hollow ache in my chest, a feeling that’s been there for as long as I can remember, only growing worse over time. I’ve always been broken.

And when I think about Gema, when I remember the way she looked at me tonight, it’s like that brokenness spreads, knowing I can’t be what she wants, what she deserves.

running a hand through my hair as I try to make sense of what’s going on inside me. Gema’s my best friend, she like a little sister, my anchor. But that kiss… it was different, like it was igniting something in me that I’ve never felt before. That scared and excited me, And I hate that it feels so good, that it feels so right.

My family wasn’t exactly the warm and supportive type. My father is the Alpha, the kind of guy who’s known for his strength and his power, the leader everyone in the pack looks up to. But at home, he’s cold, all business and expectations, the kind that weigh you down and grind you into someone you don’t even recognize. Growing up, it was drilled into me that weakness wasn’t an option, that emotions were a distraction, a liability. Love? Trust? Those were luxuries for people who didn’t have an entire pack’s future resting on their shoulders.

I can’t give her what she wants, and deep down, I know it. I’ve told myself time and time again that Gema’s not my fated mate. I would know if she were. I would feel that bond, that undeniable pull that would make everything simple, make everything clear. But there’s nothing simple or clear about this. It’s messy and confusing, and it’s tearing me up inside. She deserves more than that. She deserves more than some half-broken guy who can’t figure out his own feelings, who’s too scared to risk what they’ve built together for something he doesn’t even understand.

I was taught to be strong, to lead, but not to connect, not to rely on anyone else, and definitely not to let anyone rely on me. My father always told me, “An Alpha has to stand on his own,” and he lived it. I can’t count the number of times he’s pushed me to be the best, to be the strongest, no matter what it took. But love? Support? Those were things I learned to live without. And that kind of life leaves scars, scars that aren’t visible but are deep enough that you feel them every time you even think about letting someone close.

And my mother... she was there, but she wasn’t really *there.* She’d nod along with my father, agree with his harsh lessons, even when I was too young to understand them. She was always more focused on what our family looked like from the outside than on what was happening within it. I’d hear her talk about how proud she was of me to other pack members, but I can’t remember a single time she actually said it to my face. Not once.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands. The memory of her kiss is still there, lingering, and I wonder if it’ll ever go away, if it’ll ever stop feeling like this.

“Damn it, Jonah,” I mutter to myself, clenching my fists. I’ve tried to convince myself she’s just a friend, that I can keep her at arm’s length, but that kiss proved me wrong. And now, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make this right, how to get back to the way things were, or even if I want to.

So, I built walls. It was the only way to survive, the only way to keep myself together. I learned to pretend, to put on a front that didn’t let anyone get too close. And it worked, mostly. I’d go out with other she-wolves, have fun, keep it light, and as long as I didn’t let it get too serious, I was fine. No one had expectations I couldn’t meet. No one saw the mess underneath. I told myself that was enough, that I didn’t need anything more.

But then there’s Gema. Sweet, caring, and way too good for someone like me. She’s always been the one person who can get past my defenses, who could make me feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m worth something more than just the strength and control I’m supposed to project. She looks at me like I’m someone she can trust, someone who’s better than he actually is, and that scares me more than anything. Because I know the truth. I know what’s lurking beneath, and I know that if she gets close enough, it’ll only hurt her.

I’ve seen how she looks at me, the hope in her eyes, the way she lights up when I walk into a room. And part of me wants to give in, to believe that I could be someone she could actually rely on, someone she could love. But I also know that love isn’t safe, not for me. Love means letting someone in, letting them see everything, and I don’t have it in me to let someone dig that deep. And if I did? I don’t trust that I’d come out of it whole. I don’t trust that I wouldn’t end up dragging her down with me, showing her that there’s nothing solid to hold onto beneath the surface.

So I push her away. I keep things casual, I tell myself that friendship is the only safe way to keep her close, the only way that won’t end in heartbreak. But then tonight, I went and kissed her, crossed a line I’d promised myself I’d never cross. And now I’ve hurt her in a way I never intended. That kiss was the best thing I’ve ever felt, like I was finally alive, but I know it was wrong. Because no matter how good it felt, no matter how much I want more, I’ll only end up disappointing her in the end. I’ll only end up hurting her, dragging her down into this mess of a life I carry around like a weight I’ll never be free of.

I shake my head, closing my eyes, trying to hold onto the feel of her one last time before I let it go. I know that by trying to keep her close, by taking that “one last kiss,” I’ve only made things worse. I’ve only made it harder to let her go. She’s better off without me. She deserves someone who can give her the kind of love she’s looking for, someone who can make her happy without all this baggage. And as much as it kills me, I know that someone isn’t me. I also know that I can’t give her the future she wants with me. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to myself.

So I sit in the empty treehouse, watching the last of the light disappear through the trees, feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt.