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Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Alaric had seen it all. I had caught his gaze, sharp and assessing, lingering on the injuries I couldn’t hide. He hadn’t said anything, but I could tell by the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes darkened, that he had noticed. I wondered what he must think of me now–me, his former neighbor, now a broken shell of who I once
was.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The air felt too thin, too heavy
with memories. The room smelled faintly of cedar, and I found myself inhaling it, seeking its cool, grounding scent. It reminded me of the woods back home–the towering evergreens, the crisp mountain air, and the small cabin that had been my sanctuary before I left.
Before Dwight…
Now, lying on the bed, I hugged it closer, burying my face in the fabric as if it could somehow shield me from the world. The cedar scent enveloped me, clean
and crisp, so different from Dwight’s suffocating musk.
Dwight…
My chest tightened as his face flickered in my mind, a twisted mixture of love and
hatred.
Five years…
Five long years since I had run away with him, leaving behind everything and
everyone I knew.
I hadn’t spoken to my family in all those years. I’d cut them off, severing ties like they were dead to me. The only connection I still had was through my older brother, who never gave up on me, despite the distance I had put between us. He never stopped sending letters, even though I rarely replied.
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And then there was Alaric. How long had it been since I’d last seen him? Five
years? Ten? He was just a boy when I left–a shy, quiet kid, always following his older siblings around, always looking up to me like I was some kind of hero. I
remembered the tears in his eyes the day I said goodbye.
And now…now he was standing outside the door, no longer the boy I
remembered, but a man–an Alpha, radiating power and control.
The cedar was cold and sharp, cutting through the memories I had of him, as if to
say, ‘I’m not the boy you once knew.‘
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I closed my eyes again, trying to shut out the thoughts, trying to push away the memories of Dwight’s touch, of his voice, of the way his hands felt around my
neck. But the memories were relentless, clawing their way to the surface.
My heart raced, and my body tensed involuntarily.
A knock sounded at the door, soft but deliberate, causing my eyes to immediately fly open.
“Sister?” Alaric’s voice was quiet, steady, but there was an edge to it, a tension I hadn’t heard before. “Are you… alright?”
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. “I’m fine,” I managed, though the words.
felt hollow. I wasn’t fine. I was far from it.
A long pause followed, the silence stretching between us like a chasm. I could feel
his presence on the other side of the door, solid and unwavering.
“If you need anything…” His voice trailed off, but the unspoken offer hung in the air. He wasn’t
going to push. He wasn’t going to force me to talk. But he was there,
waiting.
I heard him shift, his footsteps fading as he moved away from the door. Slowly, I exhaled, the tension easing from my body just a little.
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The Ex Husband’s Regret: I Shot to Overnight After Our Divorce
Chapter 18
Third Person Perspective
Outside the room, Alaric leaned against the wall, his head bowed, eyes fixed on his
palm.
It was the hand that had brushed against Sylvia’s skin earlier when he had offered her the coat. Her skin had been so soft, so delicate, like a piece of fine porcelain.
And yet, some fool had handled her with nothing but brutality.
The thought stirred something dark and dangerous inside him.
He stared at his palm for a long time, as if the warmth of her touch still lingered there. His mind was racing, his emotions a tempest he couldn’t quite control. Seeing her like this, broken and bruised, had shaken him more than he wanted to
admit.
He couldn’t erase the image of her injuries from his mind–the bite marks on her lips, the bruises around her neck.
It enraged him.
How could someone hurt her like that? How could Dwight–that rogue–not see the preciousness of the woman he had?
Alaric’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.
“Sylvia…” He whispered under his breath, though there was no one to hear him.
His expression was hard now, sharp as steel, the tenderness he’d shown her earlier gone, replaced by the cold, commanding presence of a leader.
His brow furrowed, his mind already planning on ways to get reverige. Sylvia didn’t need to ask him for help. He would handle this.
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The Ex–Husband’s Regret: I Shot to Fame Ovyruight After Our Divorce
Chapter 18
One way or another, Dwight would pay.
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