Chapter 95
Rowan’s POV
1 paced the confines of my room, the weight of my thoughts bore down on me, each one a reminder of how irrevocably fucked my life had become.
No matter how hard I tried to push her from my mind, Nesta’s image haunted me relentlessly. My brother’s mate. The woman who, against all odds and logic, had ensnared my every waking thought.
I raked my hands through my hair in frustration, trying to make sense of it all. “It’s just because of the mark,”
I told myself for the hundredth time, the words feeling hollow even as I spoke them aloud. The mark on her neck, my mark, tied us in ways that defied reason. But was that really all there was to it?
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. The way she looked at me with those eyes. that held no judgement, even when she saw the limp that had made me a subject of ridicule my whole life.
She never flinched or turned away. Instead, she stayed. She accepted me, and all, in a way no other woman ever had.
disability
Was it so wrong to crave that acceptance? To yearn for the feeling of being wanted, for who I was, not despite it? After rejecting her?
But it was wrong. It was so very wrong. She was Nolan’s true mate though my wife whom I haven’t divorced.
And here I was, caught in this twisted web of desire and duty, unable to untangle myself from the mess I had created.
Every time I tried to justify my feelings, to rationalise them away, I ended up back at the same place. The same conclusion.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her because she made me feel whole in a way no one else ever had. It wasn’t just the mark, though that played its part.
It was her kindness, her strength, her unwavering loyalty. She made me believe, if only for a fleeting moment, that I was more than the sum of my flaws. That I was worth something.
I groaned, the sound echoing off the walls of my room. How did it come to this? My life was supposed to be straightforward, driven by duty and loyalty to my family and my pack.
Yet here I was, entangled in a forbidden desire that threatened to consume me whole. After the way we uncaringly rejected her like she meant nothing. Fuck.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, my head in my hands. The guilt gnawed at me, a constant reminder of my betrayal. Not just to Rowan, but to myself.
1 had always prided myself on my strength, my ability to resist temptation and uphold the honour of our family. But with Nesta, all of that fell away, leaving only raw, unfiltered need.
I had to find a way out of this. A way to sever the bond that tied me to her so mercilessly. But even as I thought it, I knew it was a lic.
There was no escaping this. No running from the truth that had embedded itself deep within me. Nesta was more than just a woman who didn’t reject me for my disability.
She was the one who made me feel alive, who made me believe that maybe, just maybe, I was worthy of love. And that, more than anything, was why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Why I couldn’t let her go. I was well and truly fucked, in every conceivable way. And there was no turning back.
The tension in my mind was unbearable, a constant torment that drove me to the solace of my office. I needed something to dull the edge, to quiet the incessant thoughts that plagued me.
The liquor cabinet was my destination, and I didn’t hesitate as I poured myself a generous glass of whiskey. The burn as it slid down my throat was a welcome. distraction from the turmoil within.
One glass turned into two, then three, until the bottle was nearly empty. My head felt heavy, the room spinning slightly as the alcohol took hold.
I sank into my chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to lose myself in the numbness. But even in my drunken state, thoughts of Nesta refused to leave me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Every time I breathed, I could almost smell her scent, the intoxicating fragrance that drove me mad.
Then, as if summoned by my darkest desires, the door to my office creaked open. I looked up, blearily focusing on the figure standing in the doorway. It was her.
Nesta.
The woman who had become the centre of my every thought. She stood there, hesitant, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of me, slumped and inebriated.
The alcohol coursing through my veins had lowered my inhibitions, and I felt a surge of desire so powerful it almost took my breath away.
The memory of her with Nolan, their bodies entwined, fueled my jealousy and my need. I wanted her, needed her, in a way that defied all reason.
Rowan, she whispered, concern etched on her face as she stepped closer. “Are you okay?
Her voice was like a balm to my tortured soul, and I found myself drawn to her. unable to resist. Something warm covered my chest and I wanted to bask in it Nesta I slurred, pushing myself unsteadily to my feet. “You shouldn’t be here.” She took another step forward, her eyes searching mine. “I was worried about you. I wanted to talk to you about”
Her proximity was too much. The combination of alcohol and her presence was overwhelming. I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, my hand reaching out to cup her cheek.
“Nesta. I breathed, my voice raw with emotion. I can’t I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Rowan. L
Before she could finish. I pulled her closer, my lips crashing against hers in a -desperate, hungry kiss.
She stiffened for a moment, but then her body melted against mine, her hands clutching at my shirt.
The taste of her was everything I had imagined and more, a sweet addiction that I couldn’t get enough of.
“I need you,” I murmured against her lips, my hands roaming over her body. feeling the heat of her skin through her clothes. I feel left out. We used to be together, used to share everything
Her breath hitched as my words sank in, and I felt her resolve waver. “Rowan, we can’t… It’s not right…”
But I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when she was here, in my arms, when I could feel the desire radiating from her as strongly as my own.
“Please, Nesta,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I need you. Just this once… Let me feel you again.
She hesitated, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deceit. But all she saw was raw, unfiltered need. Slowly, she nodded, and I didn’t waste another second. My hands were on her, tearing at her clothes, my lips trailing down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the betrayal, not the guilt. Just the two of us, lost in the heat of the moment, seeking solace in each other’s arms.
1owday! in by texting her wannowlop me, I knew I was crossing a the from what would be no tumet 1 didn’t care. Not then. Not ever. Allied down was her and the way the bade me feel Whole Alive Worthy Partly for flexing m
They of our had tourned away the have of alcohol, leaving me sharingly aware of the gravy of what we had just done.
wy me on the floor of my office, her chest rising and falling with the add wameone who had just experienced something overwhelming Husker hy, and she looked back, a mix of satisfaction and confusion in her xyre blir konw the belongs to me too. My mark is still fresh against her neck. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of are and the aftermath of our frenzied coupling
round will feel the warmth of her body against mine, the imprint of her touch lingering on my skin. We were both coming down from our high, reality seeping back in like an unwelcome intruder,
Heat moved brat, disentangling herself from me and sitting up, her expression antung from blissful to pensive. “Rowan, she began, her voice soft and unsure,
Before I could respond, the door to my office was pushed open with a force that made islam against the wall. I turned my head sharply, my heart leaping into my throat, and saw Nolan standing there,
His face was a mask of shock and fury, his eyes blazing with a fire that seemed to burn right through me.
“Holan” I started, my voice hoarse, but he didn’t give me a chance to say more. “What the hell is going on herer” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flicked between Nesta and me, taking in the dishevelled state of our clothes and the unmistakable evidence of what had just transpired.
Besta scrambled to her feet, pulling her clothes around her in a futile attempt to cover herself. “Nolan, 1-”
But he cut her off with a sharp gesture, his attention now fully on me.
“Howan, how could your” he hissed, stepping into the room and closing the door
The guilt and shame I had been trying to ignore crashed over me like a tidal wave. I struggled to find the words, but nothing could say would make this right.
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