Big Bad Alphas

Our conversation is quiet, no more yelling and arguing. We have worn ourselves out, and my body cannot put up a fight against him anymore. My inner wolf was crushed from my actions just a few days ago.

The words that left both of us meant nothing that night, and we both understand that. Eric is upset with himself for bursting in on me, I can see it on his face. Many times I tell him that I forgive him, but he doesn't seem to forgive himself.

Our conversation is quiet, meaningful, and filled with regrets, and I am dying to move on. Selfishly, I have the power to forgive myself after Eric forgives me, but he cannot seem to do the same. I hate that he is so angry with himself. "I'm okay, Eric," I tell him as I caress his cheek softly. "Please—I'm not mad at you."

"What I said to you... I can never take it back," he murmurs and removes my hand from him.

"What you said doesn't matter to me anymore. I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it." The bedsheets are knotted up beneath us, and we sit in the middle of it. The time is the last thing on my mind as I just want to get through to him.

"I can never forgive myself for how I treated you," he gazes directly into my eyes, giving me nowhere to hide. "I said you were my life, and that hasn't changed. How can I protect you if I'm the one hurting you?"

"But you're not hurting me."

He shakes his head. "I did. I saw it on your face."

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. "Eric, please—"

"Isabella, you're only hurting because of me. You're better off away from me."

panic, needing him to agree

the bedroom doors. "After everything is dealt with, I think it is best for you

"Y-You can't do that." He says nothing and leaves the room, but I stop him before he

Eric turns away in silence for one

back to normal, but it has only gotten worse. I called him toxic; I said

and now he believes the only way to accomplish that is a life without him in it. But I can't live without

is off with Lucas at her home, as she moved back. Marina has agreed to busy Kendra after being informed on my mood and what caused it. So the house is empty, letting me cry in many locations other than the upstairs bathroom with the door locked. When I was younger, I preferred to cry alone, not letting anyone see me, and I

sit on the couch with my lips shut, with no plan on opening them. My thoughts aren't jumbled anymore—I can think clearly—I'm just suffering from an aching heart. My mate wants me to leave, not out of anger, but love. And convincing

I need him, which

Standing up from the couch, I rub my eyes and wander to the stairs, planning an attempt to sleep. If I am lucky, my head will give me at least an hour or two of shut-eye. Before I can make it, the sound of a door opening catches my attention. It sounds like the back door. If it is Marina and Kendra, I don't want them to see me like this—but what if

I hurry to the kitchen, hoping to see my

My lips part

"What are you

me. My heart races in my chest, but there is an unusual numbness that

lips run dry.

Kenn smiles. "Can I

blood on his chest give me a foggy dizziness that threatens to pull me to the floor. "W-Why are