My Heart Didn't Listen

The door slammed behind me before I realized I'd even touched it. My breathing came hard, too loud in the tiny guest room they'd shoved me in, too many shadows, too little light, and a single bed that felt more like a cage than comfort.

I braced my hands against the wooden desk, my knuckles pale with pressure. Don't cry, I told myself. You don't cry for them. Not anymore.

But my heart… damn it, my heart didn't listen.

The bond pulsed behind my ribs, angry and alive. Aiden. Killian. Both of them. Still tethered to me. Still inside me somehow, like a sickness I couldn't sweat out.

And worse, my wolf didn't want them gone.

She paced behind my skin, agitated and restless. Confused. Hurt. Hungry.

Because even after the rejection, even after the betrayal, the bonds didn't snap. They twisted tighter. Like the Moon Goddess was laughing at me.

I didn't even hear the footsteps. I just felt the shift in the air.

"Don't," I said before I turned. My voice cracked, but the warning was steel.

He ignored it.

Killian stood there in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other clenched at his side like he was barely holding himself back.

"Get out," I said, louder this time.

He stepped in instead. Closed the door behind him. Locked it.

My wolf flared.

So did my rage.

"Killian—" I spun to face him fully. "I swear to the Goddess, if you so much as breathe wrong, I will rip your throat out and feed it to the ravens."

"I'd let you," he said quietly.

That threw me off.

For a second, I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You don't understand what happened. What I had to do—"

"No," I cut in. "You don't get to rewrite history now that fate's handed me back to you like some broken toy. You stood there and watched."

"Because if I hadn't—"

"I would've died?" I laughed, bitter. "Newsflash: I did die, Killian. Every part of me that mattered. You and Aiden made sure of that."

He looked like I'd punched him. Good.

"I wasn't strong enough," he whispered. "Back then, I didn't know what I was doing. I thought keeping you safe meant pushing you away."

I moved fast. Closed the space between us in three steps. My finger jabbed hard against his chest.

"Liar," I spat. "You didn't push me away. You abandoned me. There's a difference."

He flinched again. But he didn't argue.

And that pissed me off even more.

I turned back toward the window, pacing now. My heart was beating too fast. The air felt thick. My skin too tight. I needed space. Needed out.

"Rae…" His voice was rough, but gentle.

"Don't call me that."

"You always let me—"

"I'm not her anymore," I snapped. "She died the night you left."

Silence.

Then a low, nearly broken whisper: "I know."

The tension twisted between us, hot and sharp and unrelenting. The bond throbbed, demanding, primal. My wolf wanted to move closer. Mine, she murmured, wild and unsure. But I shoved her back.

I didn't trust him.

I didn't trust myself.

"I don't care what you feel," I said through clenched teeth. "This thing between us? It's a mistake. A cruel one."

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel his heat at my back. I didn't move.

"I can't change the past," he said. "But I can fight for you now."

"Don't," I said again, softer this time. Almost pleading. "Don't make this harder."

He reached out, hesitated, and then his fingers brushed my shoulder. Just a graze. But it burned.

"I'm not leaving you again," he said. "Even if you hate me. Even if you never forgive me. I'll wait."

I wanted to scream. To hit him. To pull him in and bite him and make him bleed the way I had.

Instead, I turned and stared into those wild, storm-dark eyes.

"You'll wait?" I whispered.

"Yes."

"Then wait on your damn knees."

I pushed him hard and he stumbled back, breath catching. But his gaze never left mine. And when he dropped slowly to one knee, head bowed…

Something inside me shattered.

And something else began to bloom.

Power.

Control.

Vengeance.

I didn't speak. Just stared down at him, my chest heaving, my body humming with energy that wasn't just mine. It was the bond, yes. But it was also more. Darker. Deeper.

My wolf raised her head, watching.

Testing.

Killian stayed there, kneeling. Silent. Waiting like he'd promised.

And part of me… wanted to make him stay there forever.

A knock shattered the moment.

Killian rose fast, all Alpha instincts snapping back into place. He moved toward the door with a growl vibrating in his throat, but I beat him there.

I flung the door open.

Aiden stood on the other side.

Of course.

His golden eyes swept over me, then past me to Killian. His jaw clenched.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked, voice like ice.

I wanted to say yes. Wanted to slam the door in his perfect, infuriating face.

But I didn't.

Because my heart, stupid, broken thing, still remembered how it felt when he touched me. Still remembered the night he kissed me under the stars and whispered forever.

"You have five seconds," I said instead.

He held up his hands. "Just came to deliver a message. Council's convening at dawn. They want you there."

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes. "So they can exile me too? Burn me at the stake for being inconvenient?"

"They want to question you," he said. "About the second bond. About why it didn't break."

"I didn't ask for this," I snapped.

"Neither did I," he shot back, then looked immediately like he regretted it.

Killian stepped forward, arms crossed. "You did more than ask for it. You chose it. Don't pretend you didn't."

Aiden ignored him.

His eyes locked on mine again.

And for just a second, I saw it, guilt. Regret. Something raw.

"They won't go easy on you," he said softly. "Not with your history."

I blinked. "You mean our history."

He didn't deny it.

Didn't speak at all.

Just stared like he was memorizing me. Or mourning me.

And then he turned and walked away.

No explanation. No apology.

Just silence.

The kind that wraps around your ribs and strangles.

I closed the door again, this time gently.

The storm was coming. I could feel it in my bones.

And this time, I wouldn't be the one who broke.

This time, they would.

Because I was done playing the victim.

And the next time they tried to pull me under, they'd drown with me.