[POV: Atlas]
We walked slowly, side by side beneath the hush of trees. The moonlight spilled through the canopy in soft, shifting patterns, and for a moment… it felt like we were somewhere outside of time.
I didn’t speak at first and Evan didn’t push. There was something unspoken between us—fragile, cautious. But not bitter. Not yet.
Then he laughed.
“Do you remember that time I tried to build a tree swing behind the training hall?”
I blinked at him, caught off guard.
He smiled, wide and sheepish. “I was what? Twelve? You were hiding behind the stables, sketching something, and I thought, ‘If I can get him to look up just once, maybe he’ll smile at me.’”
“I remember,” I said softly. “You fell. Landed right in a patch of thorns.”
He winced. “And you just stood there. Watching.”
“I was trying not to laugh.”
“But you did.”
“Only a little.”
His smile widened, and I felt something loosen in my chest. It started small—a flicker of warmth, a cautious kind of comfort.
Before long, we were trading memories, the silly, half-forgotten ones you don’t realize you’ve kept until someone else says them out loud. The time I’d left him a carved wolf figurine outside his door, too scared to admit it was from me.
How he’d once tried to braid flowers into my hair during a festival and tied a knot so tight I had to cut a chunk of it off. How we used to climb the roof of the mess hall to watch the stars, even though it was strictly forbidden.
He remembered every detail. So did I.
And with each shared laugh, the space between us grew smaller. Safer. I let myself lean into it. Let myself feel the kind of closeness we used to have—before everything shattered.
For a heartbeat, it almost felt like nothing had changed. But then—
“He got so mad,” Evan said, chuckling. “Dominic, I mean. When he found out we’d snuck out that night to see the meteor shower.”
My breath caught. Just like that, the air shifted. The warmth vanished, replaced by something colder. Sharper. A blade between us.
Evan faltered mid-step. His expression twisted. “Shit— Atlas, I didn’t mean—”
I stopped walking.
“Do you love him?” I asked. My voice came out quieter than I meant. Barely above a whisper. But it still rang loud in the stillness.
He didn’t answer. Not right away.
I turned to face him fully. “Evan. Do you actually love him?”
His eyes dropped to the forest floor. Silence stretched between us like ice forming over water. Then he sighed.
“Yes,” he said finally. “I do care about him.”
The words stung like frostbite. I opened my mouth, then shut it again. He must’ve seen something change in my face because he took a step forward.
“But that doesn’t mean I ever agreed with what he did. Or how he treated you. I never supported his cruelty. I hated it.”
“Then why stay with him?” I asked, voice shaking.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Because my wolf—Cyrus—he chose him. We’re bonded now. And I feel it. I can’t pretend I don’t.”
My stomach twisted.
“But I swear, Atlas… if I could split myself in two, I would. I’ll give that cruel, powerstarving half to him. The other one—” He stopped, eyes locking with mine. “To be with you.”
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to tell him that love didn’t work like that. That you couldn’t tear a heart in half and expect both sides to survive.
That I didn’t want half of him. I wanted the whole thing. And that version of him—the one I once believed in—he was long gone.
But before either of us could say anything else, a howl shattered the quiet. My breath hitched.
Ava.
Another howl followed—Levi, then Kobe. They were nearby. Looking for me.
“You should go,” I said quickly. “Now.”
He hesitated. “Will you be okay?”
I nodded. “This is my pack now.”
His eyes flickered. Something in him sank at those words.
I didn’t wait. I turned and ran—fast, heart thundering, emotions clawing at my chest. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.
By the time I reached the others, I had forced my expression into something calm. Detached. Like nothing had happened.
Ava spotted me first.
“There you are,” she said, brows furrowed. “We were about to circle back. Something happened?"
“Nothing serious,” I said with a small, tired smile. “Just… lost track of time.”
Kobe tilted his head. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m fine.”
They accepted it. But I didn’t tell them the truth.
Some things were still mine to carry. And I wasn’t ready to let them go.