Chapter 25: The Weight of Time

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**Isla's POV**

Isla sat in the backseat of her aunt's car, her body drained from the overwhelming emotion she had let out at the cliffs. The cool night breeze had chilled her to the bone, but it was the hollowness inside her chest that left her feeling numb. She stared out of the window, watching the darkened trees blur past. Her mind kept replaying the dinner with Damian, his sharp words cutting through her over and over again.

"I'm not her."

No matter how hard she tried, she would never be Lyra. And maybe that was the real problem-maybe Damian would always hold onto the memory of his first mate, unable to fully let go and love her for who she was.

Beside her, Harper sat in silence, her worried gaze flicking between Isla and the road ahead. Isla hadn't said much since she had broken down at the cliffs, and Harper, sensing her need for space, hadn't pushed. But the tension was palpable, and Isla could feel the weight of it pressing down on her chest.

Selene, her aunt, drove with quiet determination, her face etched with worry. She hadn't left Isla's side since teleporting to her at the cliffs, holding her as she cried and screamed out her pain. Now, as they made their way to her aunt's house, Isla was grateful for her presence, even if she couldn't find the words to express it.

They pulled up to her aunt's house, and Isla hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the car. The weight of the night still clung to her, but exhaustion was slowly taking over. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut out the world.

"You'll be okay, Isla," Selene said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder as they walked inside. "I'm here, and so is Harper. We'll get through this."

Isla nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She knew they meant well, but right now, all she felt was the crushing loneliness of not being enough-of never being enough for Damian.

---

**Harper's POV**

As Harper walked into Selene's house with Isla, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced down at the screen and saw Marcus's name flashing across it. A pang of guilt shot through her as she realized he had probably been trying to reach her for hours.

"Hey," Harper answered quietly, stepping into the hallway for privacy. "Marcus, what's going on?"

There was a pause on the other end, and Harper could hear the tension in Marcus's voice as he replied. "I wanted to check on Isla. Is she okay?"

Harper sighed, glancing back toward the room where Isla had disappeared with her aunt. "She's... not great. She had a breakdown at the cliffs, Marcus. She's hurting, and I don't know how to help her right now."

Marcus let out a long breath. "I figured. I should've been there sooner."

"It's not your fault," Harper said softly. "She's been holding everything in for weeks. It all just came out tonight."

Marcus's voice softened. "I know. I just... I hate seeing her like this. Damian's been through his own breakdown tonight too."

Harper's heart skipped. "What happened?"

"He opened up to the pack," Marcus explained. "Finally let himself grieve for Lyra. He's realized he needs to let go of the past if he wants any chance of moving forward with Isla. But now... he's worried it might be too late."

Harper closed her eyes, her heart aching for both Damian and Isla. "He's afraid she won't forgive him?"

"He's terrified," Marcus said. "But he's determined. I'm taking him to her as soon as she's ready."

Harper bit her lip, glancing down the hallway. "She needs time, Marcus. She's been feeling like she'll always be second to Lyra. It's going to take more than a few words to heal that."

"I know," Marcus replied quietly. "But Damian's ready to fight for her now. He knows what he wants."

Harper sighed. "Let me talk to her. I'll let you know when she's ready."

"Thanks, Harper," Marcus said, his voice full of gratitude. "I owe you."

"Take care, Marcus."

Harper hung up the phone and leaned against the wall, her mind racing. She couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation-Isla's pain, Damian's grief, and the love that was trapped between them. She just hoped they could find a way through it before it was too late.

---

**Isla's POV**

Weeks passed, and life seemed to fall into a monotonous rhythm. Isla had settled into her aunt's house, her emotions still raw but no longer overwhelming her the way they had that night at the cliffs. She had thrown herself into her studies, with university exams fast approaching, hoping the distraction would keep her mind from wandering back to Damian. But no matter how hard she tried, thoughts of him lingered like a shadow.

She spent her days surrounded by her friends-Harper, always cheerful and full of life; Noah, the witch in their group who kept things light with his humor; and Alec, the wolf who had been her friend since childhood. They offered comfort and distraction, but at night, when she lay in bed, the loneliness crept back in.

Her mind couldn't stop replaying the moment when Damian had hurt her so deeply. The look in his eyes, the way he had dismissed her feelings-it all played over and over in her head, leaving her heart bruised and aching.

And then there was Lyra's funeral anniversary. The date was fast approaching, a heavy reminder of everything that had come before her. The pack would gather to honor Lyra, to remember the Luna who had led them before Isla, and Isla couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong. No matter what she did, she would always be living in Lyra's shadow.

There was also something else that gnawed at her-the nickname "Bumblebee." The figure at the ball who had called her by that name, the familiarity in his voice... it haunted her. Who was he? How did he know her? And why did his presence stir something deep inside her, something she couldn't quite place?

But more than anything, it was the thought of Damian that kept her awake at night. She missed him, despite everything. Missed the warmth of his touch, the way he could make her feel like the most important person in the world-when he wasn't lost in his grief.

She wondered if he was thinking of her too. If he regretted what he had said, if he missed her the way she missed him.

As the days slipped by, Isla knew she couldn't avoid the inevitable. The funeral anniversary would come, and with it, a confrontation with Damian. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew one thing: she couldn't keep living in the past, either.

She just hoped Damian had realized that too.

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