The meaning behind my carefully chosen words didn't escape Elliot Presgrave. He understood exactly what I was asking of him—to withdraw, to sever proximity, to step out of my life entirely as though the connection between us could simply be cut without consequence. In the language of packs, I was drawing a boundary so absolute it bordered on rejection, one meant to protect myself from the pull I refused to acknowledge.
Yet I could feel the tension in my chest tightening, my instincts restless as I faced him. My emotions were stretched thin, every breath carrying the weight of restraint, as though something within me was on the verge of fracturing under the pressure of what remained unsaid. I searched his expression, hoping—against my own judgment—for even a hint of reaction that would betray what he truly felt. But Elliot remained unreadable, his control absolute, his presence steady in a way that only an Alpha who had mastered his dominance could maintain.
Finally, he spoke.
