Chapter 7
568words
I take the podium as keynote speaker.
The auditorium overflows with the world's leading researchers.
"For centuries, we've accepted that bonding is permanent."
"My research proves Omegas can overcome bond dependency through targeted therapy and medication."
"We needn't be prisoners of our biology."
"We deserve the freedom to choose our own paths."
The applause is deafening.
After my talk, I'm surrounded by colleagues.
Collaboration offers. Research proposals. Questions.
Ethan waits at the edge of the crowd.
"You killed it," he grins.
"You're officially academia's most influential Omega researcher."
"Couldn't have done it without you."
"This was all you."
He offers his arm. "Ready for the celebration dinner?"
I reach for his hand—
A familiar scent hits me like a physical blow.
Pine and moonlight—powerful, unmistakable.
I freeze.
Impossible.
I turn slowly.
At the back of the hall stands a ghost from my past.
Alexander.
He wears a simple black coat, dramatically thinner than before.
His amber eyes—once so commanding—now dull and hollow.
Most striking—
His Alpha scent is barely half its former strength.
Forced bond severance damages Alphas far more than Omegas.
He'll continue to weaken.
Eventually becoming weaker than a Beta.
He stares at me, a thousand unspoken words in his gaze.
But he only nods once.
Then turns and walks away.
"Was that…?" Ethan frowns.
"Nobody." I look away.
"Let's go."
***
Throughout the celebration dinner, I can't focus.
His haunted face fills my thoughts.
Why did he come?
How did he find me?
What did he want?
"Emma?" Ethan's voice breaks through my thoughts.
"You okay?"
"Mmm."
"Want to head back to the hotel?"
"No, I'll go alone."
"Then… see you tomorrow."
He seems about to say more, but stops himself.
I know he has feelings for me.
For three years, he's been my rock.
Kind. Patient. Respectful.
But my heart is dead.
I'll never love again.
Outside the hotel.
The night air bites with cold.
I pull my coat tighter—
A figure steps from the shadows.
"I know I have no right to be here."
Alexander stands in the pool of a streetlight.
"I needed to see for myself that you're okay."
"Now you have," I say coldly.
"You can go."
"Yes," he smiles sadly.
"You're thriving."
"Successful. Respected. And…"
He glances back toward the hotel.
"Not alone."
"He's my colleague."
"I know," he says quietly.
"But he loves you."
"That's none of your business."
"I know," he repeats.
"Emma, I just came to say…"
"I'm sorry."
"You said that three years ago."
"It wasn't enough," his voice barely audible.
"It will never be enough."
"I destroyed you. Us. Our child."
"I live in hell every day."
"Drowning in regret."
"I don't deserve forgiveness."
"I'm not asking for it."
"I just wanted you to know—"
"If there's another life, I'll be worthy of you."
"I'll be the man you deserved."
He turns to leave.
"Alexander."
I call after him.
He stops but doesn't turn.
"I forgive you."
His shoulders tremble slightly.
"Not for your sake."
"For mine."
"These three years taught me something."
"To love myself first."
"To stop letting the past imprison me."
"So I forgive you."
"And myself."
"From now on, we're strangers."
"Goodbye, Alexander."
"I hope you find peace."
He stands motionless for a long moment.
Finally, barely audible: "Thank you."
He walks into the darkness.
And disappears.
This time, it's truly over.
