My life

Scared.

GENEVIEVE'S POV

...the knot.

The realization hit me all at once, sharp and terrifying. I remembered reading about it—about alphas, about mating, about what it meant when they stayed connected like that. My chest tightened, panic rising so fast it made me dizzy.

Pregnancy.

The word echoed in my head, heavy and overwhelming. I wasn't ready for a child. I could barely take care of myself some days. How could I ever be a good mother? I didn't even know how to exist without fear yet.

My thoughts spiraled, one on top of the other, until I felt like I was drowning in them.

I didn't even realize I was shaking until Mica spoke.

"What's going through your head?" he asked gently, his voice low and steady, like he was trying not to spook me.

"The knot," I whispered. "I... I forgot about that."

Saying it out loud made it real. Made the fear louder.

---

MICA'S POV

Everything about that moment had felt right natural, instinctive, complete. I'd marked her. Claimed her. The bond between us was solid now, undeniable. Being connected to her like that felt like purpose, like coming home.

But then I saw her face.

She wasn't lost in the moment like I was. Her brows were drawn together, her eyes distant, fear flickering beneath the surface. When I asked what she was thinking and she mentioned the knot, my heart clenched.

She looked at me like she was bracing for something terrible.

"I don't think I'd be a good mom," she said softly, the words trembling out of her.

That hurt more than anything.

Not because she didn't want a child but because she believed she wasn't worthy of being one.

"We'll talk about it," I said immediately. "You don't have to worry about that right now. Nothing is decided without you. Ever."

It didn't take long before we could separate, and when we did, I pulled her close, wrapping her up in my arms. She fell asleep quickly completely exhausted. I stayed awake, holding her, listening to her breathe, silently promising that I would protect her from every fear that tried to take root in her mind.

---

Morning came quietly.

She must have gotten overheated during the night because the blankets were kicked away, her body exposed to the cool air. I watched her sleep for a moment, peaceful and soft in the early light.

And then I saw them.

The scars.

Fresh. Angry. Lining her arms. Her legs.

My stomach dropped.

"Goddamnit," I muttered under my breath, carefully slipping out of bed so I wouldn't wake her. My heart was pounding as I went to the bathroom and started searching. Drawer after drawer. Cabinet after cabinet.

Nothing.

Then it hit me.

The one place I'd never thought to look.

Tampons.

I opened the box and felt something inside me fracture. Two boxes sat inside,one nearly empty of razor blades, the other brand new.

My hands trembled as I pulled them out.

That's when I heard her gasp.

I looked up.

She stood in the doorway wearing my hoodie, sleeves pulled down over her hands, her eyes fixed on the floor. She wouldn't look at me.

I stepped closer and crouched so we were eye level. "When did you get these?" I asked quietly, but there was steel beneath my voice.

Her face flushed red, tears welling fast.

"When we went shopping," she whispered.

"That was almost two months ago," I said, disbelief and pain twisting together. "You've been doing this the whole time?"

My voice broke despite my effort to stay calm. "Why, baby? Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

---

GENEVIEVE'S POV

I woke up alone.

That alone made my chest tighten, but then I heard it. Drawers opening. Closing. Searching. My heart dropped straight into my stomach.

He'd seen them.

The scars.

Panic surged through me. I scrambled out of bed, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it on, trying to cover myself, trying to undo something that couldn't be undone. I rushed to the bathroom, praying he hadn't found them yet.

But it was too late.

He turned toward me holding the boxes.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't face the disappointment I was sure was written all over his face. He kept asking me why, but the words wouldn't come. My throat felt locked, my chest burning.

All I could think was he doesn't want me anymore.

Fear took over.

I ran.

I didn't think I just moved. Down the stairs, out the door, my bare feet pounding against the ground. I'd never run this fast in my life. Tears streamed down my face, blurring everything, but I didn't stop.

I could hear him behind me.

Close.

Calling my name.

But I was terrified,terrified that if he caught me, he'd see just how broken I really was.

And I didn't know if I could survive that.