<b>Chapter </b><b>70</b><b>: </b><b>Hidden Truths </b><b>and </b><b>Emerging Dangers</b>–1
Chapter 70: Hidden Truths and Emerging Dangers
<b>(</b><b>Olivia’s </b>POV)
<b>I </b>reacted on pure instinct. My knee shot up, connecting solidly with Ethan’s stomach. As he <b>doubled </b><b>over</b><b>, </b>
gasping, I pped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.
“<b>Stay </b>away from me!” I snarled, backing away from him.
Ethan straightened slowly, his hand touching his reddening cheek. The shock in his blue eyes quickly morphed into hurt.
“Olivia-” he started, reaching for me.
“Don’t!” I held up my hand, my entire body trembling with rage. “You’re tainted! Corrupted!”
My voice broke on thest word, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. Inside, my wolf howled <b>in </b>agreement, rejecting his scentpletely.
“We can never go back to what we were,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Never.”
Ethan staggered back as if I’d struck him again. The physical blow had hurt him, but my words had wounded him far deeper.
“You don’t mean that,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I do.” I stepped back into my apartment. “Don’te here again.”
I mmed the door shut, locking it immediately. Through the wood, I heard Ethan’s ragged breathing, then his slow, defeated footsteps retreating down the hallway.
Only when I was sure he was gone did I allow myself to slide down against the door, my legs suddenly too weak to support me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. For a wild moment, I thought it might be Ethan, but the screen showed a message from Emma: “Noah’s asking for you, Says he has questions about the case. Can you visit tomorrow?”
I texted back a quick confirmation, grateful for the distraction. Work was something I could focus on, something that made sense when everything else seemed to be falling apart.
Rising to my feet, I moved through my apartment, checking that all the windows were locked. Ethan’s visit had left me feeling vited, unsafe in my own home.
Sleep was impossible. I paced restlessly across my living room, my mind racing with questions. That recording of Jessica Sullivan and Connor–what was I supposed to make <b>of </b><b>it</b>?
I remembered Jessica’s attack on me months ago, how Connor had protected me without hesitation. The
woman had been obsessed with Ethan, not Connor<b>. </b>It made no sense.
sitya
“Ethan is manipting the situation<b>, </b>I muttered to myself. “He’s twisting things, like <b>he </b><b>alway </b>
Still, doubt nagged at me. Connor had been canceling ns more frequentlytely, <b>offering </b><b>vague </b>
exnations about pack business. <ol><li><b>es</b><b>. </b></li></ol>
|||
O
Chapter <b>70</b>: Hidden Truths.
<b>I </b><b>reached </b><b>for </b><b>my </b><b>phone </b><b>and </b>called Connor’s <b>number</b>. <b>It </b><b>rang </b>several times before going to voicemail
<b>“</b><b>Hey</b><b>, </b><b>it’s </b>me,” <b>I </b>started<b>, </b>then stopped, unsure what <b>to </b><b>say</b>. <b>I </b><b>hung </b><b>up </b><b>without </b><b>leaving </b><b>a </b>message.
After a moment’s hesitation, I typed out a text instead: “Everything’s fine<b>. </b>Take your time with <b>your </b><b>pack </b>
<b>business</b>. I trust you.”
I hit send, feeling slightly better for having expressed my confidence in him, despite the seeds of <b>doubt </b><b>Ethan </b><b>had </b>tried to nt.
Setting my phone aside, I moved to the window, gazing out at the lights of Riverdale. Somewhere <b>out </b><b>there</b><b>, </b>Connor was dealing with Vanessa’s poisoning–or at least, that’s what he’d told me.
“I trust him,” I whispered to myself, trying to silence the doubts whispering in the back of my <b>mind</b>.
(Ethan’s POV)
I barely made it back to my secondary apartment in Moonlight Gardens before my legs gave out. Copsing onto the cold tile of the entryway, I pressed my palm against my cheek where Olivia had pped me.
The physical pain was nothingpared to the agony of her words.
“You’re tainted! Corrupted!”
Her voice echoed in my mind, each repetition like a knife twisting in my chest. My wolf whined pitifully<b>, </b>sensing my distress.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, turning the shower on full st. Stripping off my clothes, I stepped under the scalding water, as if it could somehow wash away her usation.
“I’m not tainted,” I whispered, grabbing the soap and scrubbing my skin. “I’m not.”
The words became a desperate mantra as I scrubbed harder, my skin turning red and sensitive. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the shower water.
“I’m not tainted,” I repeated, my voice breaking. “I’m not.”
The water ran cold, but I continued to stand there, scrubbing at my skin long after it had turned raw. My wolf’s distress mirrored my own, a continuous whine that seemed toe from the depths of my soul.
Finally, I shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. My reflection in the mirror showed a broken man–eyes red–rimmed, skin blotchy, expression haunted.
I had lost her. Truly lost her this time.
The realization hit me with crushing force. I stumbled to my bedroom, copsing onto the bed without bothering to dry off or dress.
<b>Comments </b>
W
Watch Ads <b>(</b><b>0/20</b><b>) </b>>
<b>690 </b>
H