Broken Heart

9. Confession

Kevin's POV

The click of the door as David slammed it shut echoed the shattering of something precious within me. It felt as though a vital organ had been ripped from my chest, leaving behind a gaping void filled with confusion and a searing, unfamiliar pain.

Deceived him? The word reverberated in my mind, a cruel accusation that twisted the reality of the night. I hadn't deceived him. I had simply been myself, something I had never felt the need to hide.

My secondary gender, being a female alpha, had never defined me. It was a part of who I was. I had always preferred masculine pronouns, felt more aligned with the "he" and "him" that others used to refer to male alphas. My inner wolf, strong and assertive, resonated with that energy.
It had never occurred to me that this aspect of my being would be a point of contention, a reason for rejection.

David's last words, sharp and final, were a far more potent blow than any physical attack I had ever endured. Leave me alone. The finality of it sent a shiver of icy dread down my spine. My mate, the one person my inner wolf had instantly recognized and claimed, wanted nothing to do with me.

A primal urge screamed at me to run after him, to explain, to make him understand that there had been no deception, only a misunderstanding fueled by the intensity of the moment and his unexpected heat. But a cold knot of fear tightened in my stomach.

What if it wasn't just a misunderstanding? What if he genuinely harboured a deep aversion to female alphas? The thought was a crushing weight, threatening to suffocate the fragile hope that still flickered within me.

Lost in the labyrinth of my despair and confusion, I didn't hear the soft click of the door as it opened again.

Rose stood on the threshold, her expression a mixture of concern and gentle curiosity. She had always been attuned to my moods, a steadfast presence in my life, especially in the lead-up to this momentous birthday. Right now, I desperately needed her unwavering support.

With a sigh that felt like it tore from my very soul, I poured out the events of the night – the unexpected arrival of my mate, the overwhelming connection, the sudden onset of his heat, and then… the devastating misunderstanding and his abrupt departure.

As I spoke, the raw pain of his rejection resurfaced, and my voice cracked with unshed tears.

Rose listened intently, her brow furrowed with sympathy. She offered words of comfort, reminding me of David's overwhelmed state, the intensity of a first heat, suggesting that perhaps his reaction was born out of confusion and the unfamiliarity of the situation.

Her logical reassurances offered a small measure of solace, a tiny crack of light in the darkness that had enveloped me.

But then, as I began to feel a sliver of hope rekindle, Rose's expression shifted. A soft, almost hesitant look replaced her usual easygoing demeanor. She reached out, her hand gently covering mine. "Kevin," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you."

My heart sank. I had a terrible premonition of what was coming.
"Ever since you… ever since you saved me," she continued, her gaze fixed on our intertwined hands, "I've felt… a pull towards you. A connection that I couldn't explain. I know you don't feel the same way. I've always known."

Her voice trembled slightly. "But… I allowed myself to hope. Especially with your sixteenth birthday… the possibility of finding your mate…"
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken longing. My stomach clenched. Rose, my dear friend, had harboured feelings for me, feelings I had been completely oblivious to.

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I thought… maybe… maybe I could be your mate. It was a foolish dream, I know. But seeing you last night… it just confirmed what I already knew. And now… to hear that he rejected you…" Her voice broke, and tears finally spilled down her cheeks. "It hurts, Kevin. It hurts so much."

A wave of guilt washed over me. I had been so consumed by my own joy at finding my mate, and then by the crushing pain of his rejection, that I hadn't even considered Rose's feelings. She had been a constant source of support, and here she was, heartbroken, confessing her unrequited love for me.

I reached out, gently cupping her face in my hands. "Rose," I said softly, my voice filled with genuine remorse, "I… I had no idea. I cherish our friendship, you know that. You've been an incredible support to me, especially these past few years. I'm so sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression."

Her tears continued to fall. "It's not your fault," she choked out. "I knew… I always knew. But a part of me just couldn't let go of the hope."

The room was filled with the weight of our unspoken emotions – my raw pain at David's rejection, Rose's heartbreaking confession, the tangled threads of our intertwined lives.

The joy of my sixteenth birthday had been completely overshadowed by a profound sense of loss and the uncomfortable reality of  unrequited love. My mate was gone, and my dear friend was hurting because of a bond that was never meant to be. The future stretched before me, uncertain and clouded with pain.