His Rejected Mate for Twelve Years- My Final Escape - Chapter 8

---- Chapter 8 Seth's POV The party ends. I shove away the hand Sarah extends tome. "Seth, I'll go back with you-" "Don't." I walk to the parking lot without a backward glance. "Find your own way home." "But" I get in the car and slam my foot on the gas. In the rearview mirror, Sarah stands alone and abandoned at the entrance. I don't care anymore. The manor is dark and silent. I stumble through the door, the alcohol making me unsteady. "Viola!" I shout out of pure habit. "I need a calming draught!" Dead silence. ---- No answer. No hurried footsteps.

No gentle voice saying, "Right away, Seth." Instead, a tearing agony shoots from my chest to my skull. I clutch my head and fall to my knees, feeling like my head is about to split open. She's gone. There's no one to make me a calming draught anymore. No one to soothe my back when I'm on edge. No one to tolerate all my bullshit, unconditionally. I struggle to my feet and head to the kitchen, looking for something to sober up. The moment I open the fridge, I freeze. Taped to the door is a crinkled drawing. A doodle Leo made when he was five. Three wolves. One big, one medium, one small.

The big one is majestic and proud. The medium one is ---- gentle and beautiful. The smallest one is hiding behind them. Underneath, in crooked letters: My Dad, Mom, and Me. My hand trembles as I tear the drawing off the door, staring at that small, hopeful figure. Memories flood back. That night, Leo was curled up on the floor, writhing in pain. "Daddy... why the silver whistle... I'm not a monster..." He was sobbing, his eyes filled with confusion and despair. And I stood over him, cold and distant, watching my own son suffer. "This is a trial.

The strong are not defeated by silver." What damn trial! He was just a kid! Akid who needed a hug from his father! ---- And what did I give him? The pain of silver, the agony of potions, and a constant denial of who he was. I cover my face as tears stream through my fingers. The alcohol and guilt finally break me. I pull out my phone, my fingers shaking as I type out a message. Viola, I was wrong. I'm begging you. Please come home. The message fails to send. A small, red notification pops up: Delivery Failed. User has disconnected service. I try again. And again. And again.

Each red notification is another twist of the knife. She... she's really, truly gone. She even got rid of her number. What does that mean? It means she never wants to see me again. It means ---- I'm already dead to her. The call won't even connect. Just a cold, robotic voice: "The number you have dialed is no longer in service..." I collapse onto the floor, holding my head and sobbing. I dial the pack's only female elder. "Alpha? Is something wrong? It's late." "Viola... where did Viola go? Does the council know?" My voice is choked.