Chapter 297
Ella’s POV
Alexander nearly kissed me when the mate bond unexpectedly flared to life. And I had almost let him. Goddess, how badly I wanted that kiss in that moment–how I wanted to taste him again, to feel his hands on my face, to be wrapped up in his warmth and his familiar scent.
For a moment, just a moment, it felt like nothing had changed between us. Like we were back in that happy little bubble we’d experienced briefly during my pregnancy, back when things were good for a little while. Back when we’d shared a bed and I’d wanted desperately to tell him I loved him.
But then he had pulled back, eyes going wide, and had abruptly stood and ended our date.
It was probably for the best, of course. If Alexander and I kissed, then it would only make everything that much more complicated; and I couldn’t have a repeat of what had happened with the farmer or Liam.
Especially not now that I knew the truth about how Alexander felt.
“We’re done here,” Alexander said, already moving to clean up the mess we’d made of the picnic. We’d both spilt our wine when our wolves had surged and the snacks were now strewn across the blanket, half–damp with wine and crushed by our hands. “It’s getting late. Thank you for the nice chat, but I think it’s time we get back.”
I nodded and stood, holding back tears and avoiding his gaze as I quickly helped him. We didn’t speak or look at one another, just quietly cleaned up and packed everything, then made our way back down the trail.
Hunter was waiting by the car at the bottom of the trail, and he and Alexander loaded up the picnic supplies while I climbed into the back seat and sulked. When they were finished, they climbed into the front and the drive was utterly silent.
By the time we arrived back at the estate, I was completely exhausted–and not just because it was well past midnight. My body felt empty and weak, like I’d been hit by a truck from all the emotional turmoil of the night.
“Stella,” Alexander said, stopping me in the foyer before I could retreat to my room, “I want you to know that I respect your decision not to win the trial.”
“Good.” The word came out harsh and clipped, but it needed to. I had to create distance between us again. ” Because I mean it. I don’t want to be your Luna, and I don’t want you to choose me. If you try, I’ll decline. Publicly.”
“I know.” Alexander’s jaw clenched. “And I’m sorry for getting you wrapped up in all of this. You shouldn’t have been forced into the trial to begin with.”
“Well, I’m glad I was,” I admitted. “I got to help my friend, if nothing else. Just promise me you’ll consider her when you make your final decision so my efforts weren’t in vain.”
To my surprise and relief, Alexander nodded. With that, we turned and went our separate ways.
Over the coming days, Alexander and I maintained our distance. We didn’t talk about the date. In fact, we didn’t speak to each other unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, it was only brief exchanges about Lucien.
I could tell that Alexander was avoiding me just as much as I was avoiding him, neither of us wanting a repeat of
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what had happened on that date.
Or rather, what had almost happened.
Because of that night, all of the bitterness, anger, and resentment I’d been holding onto for weeks slipped away. Unfortunately, it was replaced with something far worse: sadness. Deep, unending, agonizing sadness.
It was almost easier to be angry, to delude myself into thinking that Alexander didn’t grieve me and only saw me as an inconvenient tool–the wife he needed but the so–called “spy” that he hated.
But now I knew that Alexander had truly cared for me. He still grieved me. He was even sorry for locking me in that room, for accusing me of being a spy, for all of the coldness and distance during our five years together.
And I could never tell him the truth.
I could never reveal who I really was, could never let him know that Ella was still here, still alive, still loving him despite everything. Because if I did, he would die just like the farmer. Just like Liam was dying right now.
Knowing how Alexander truly felt only made the curse that much more unbearable.
So I threw myself into my research with renewed vigor. Every night after Lucien was asleep, I was in the library, poring over ancient books and medical journals and anything else I could find about curses or resurrections or ways to break bloodline afflictions.
But I found nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The restricted section yielded a few more promising titles–I found a few texts on rare illnesses, one on unnatural death circumstances, and there was even one manuscript about a woman who claimed to have died and come back.
However, when I read more about it, I found that it was nothing like my situation. The woman had only been clinically dead for a few minutes before being revived, not reborn into an entirely new body days later.
By the fourth night, I was back to rereading passages I’d already gone through multiple times, desperately hoping that I had missed something. But there was nothing, as usual. I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that I’d probably never find a cure, just like my mother warned me, and that I was wasting precious nights on researching in vain when I could be spending time with Liam before his inevitable demise.
A few days later, Anya had her solo date with Alexander.
She was scooped up by Hunter in the early evening, much to the buzz of the staff, who had realized what was going on by now. I knew she was being taken away for her date when Hunter unexpectedly showed up while we were having tea and handed her a garment bag, telling her to put on the beautiful cocktail dress that was inside, then whisked her off without an explanation.
The last I saw of her was a hopeful smile and a wave.
It was late that night when Anya finally returned. I had just put Lucien to bed for the night and was heading to my room, too tired to go to the library when I knew it would be a fruitless search for information, when I heard the front door open. Anya practically floated down the hall toward me.
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