#Chapter 119 – At A Loss
Victor stares out his back window, clutching his phone in his hand.
One of the most powerful Alphas in the country – in the world – and he can’t get someone to pick up
his calls.
Something was wrong with Evelyn last night. He saw it on her face when she was talking with Bridgette
– he had seen her go pale, her eyes go glassy. He saw her lost in her thoughts for the rest of the
evening, giving only canned answers when she was addressed directly.
He had stopped Bridgette on the way up the stairs, after Evelyn had left with the boys.
“What were you two talking about?” he had asked.
“Huh?” had been Bridgette’s vapid reply.
“You and Evelyn, what did you talk about tonight? She was worried.”
Bridgette just shrugged. “You know. Normal stuff. We talked about hot cocoa.”
Confused, Victor had nodded and let her go. Then, he had sent Evelyn a series of texts over the next
few hours, each of which had gone unanswered.
Victor: Hey, are you okay? You looked a little out of sorts tonight.
Victor: Evelyn? Are you still awake?
Victor: Please text me in the morning, I hope everything is all right.
Victor: Evelyn. I’m starting to get worried.
He grits his teeth as he flicks through those messages now. God, he feels like an i***t. But what could
be wrong?
Frantic, this morning he had tried to call his therapist.
The call ended so strangely last time, with her saying she couldn’t talk to him anymore. He had
contacted the agency about it, and they had confirmed that the therapist had expressed a desire to end
the relationship. They offered him a new therapist, but…
He liked this one. If he could just mend the relationship…
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtBut he couldn’t do anything if she wouldn’t pick up the phone.
God damnit, what were the chances that both Evelyn and his therapist would abandon him like this, so
close together? He felt very alone, left in the lurch.
“Sir?” Victor is surprised to hear a voice to his left. He turns, his eyes falling on Burton, who offers him
a fresh cup of coffee.
“For you, sir,” Burton says, nodding his head in deference. “You’ll forgive me, I’m sure, if I say that you
look as if you need it.”
Victor smiles at him, indeed forgiving the implication that he looked tired and needed a boost. It was
true, after all. “Thank you, Burton,” he says, accepting the cup. “This is precisely what I need.”
“I am also here, sir,” Burton continues, turning his eyes out the window to follow Victor’s own gaze
towards Evelyn’s house. “If you ever need a listening ear. The role of the butler is always one of
complete discretion.”
Victor smiles at this man, happy again to have found and hired him. “Thank you, Burton,” he says. “I’ll
certainly keep that in mind, if the occasion ever calls for such a thing.”
Burton nods quietly and then moves away, leaving Victor to his thoughts.
Victor considers Burton as he goes, thinking that it feels like Burton has been a part of the household
forever. But of course, he’s only been here for two weeks.
Two weeks. Just two weeks have passed since that disaster of a wedding, since his father evoked his
right to question the pack’s leadership, since Amelia…
Amelia.
Victor blinks, surprised to realize that he hasn’t thought about Amelia in…days. This woman, once such
a large part of his life, the person who he had intended to marry, build a life with, build a family with, so
easily dismissed from his mind.
He feels a sudden pang of guilt, then. She was suffering, surely, her own life having fallen apart. He
had given her a bit of a grace period, filled her bank account with enough cash to keep her comfortable
for a while, but otherwise he had ended all contact.
Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, it surely wasn’t what she had wanted.
But he? Honestly, it was almost shameful how fast his life had returned to normal, how fast he had
moved on. He searches his heart in this moment, seeking some sadness, some acknowledgement of
the loss, but he comes up empty.
Was any of it real, then? Victor thinks back, remembering the passion of their first meeting, when their
mating bond had snapped into place. God, they hadn’t left bed for days, he had been obsessed with
her, couldn’t get her scent out of his nose or his mind.
And then they had been happy, for years.
So where was his sadness that it was gone? He had heard stories of men broken by the rejection of a
mating bond. Even when it is done for the right reasons, some people never recover from it. But he
feels…
Damnit, he feels fine. Better.
Victor sips his coffee, considering that perhaps it helps that he has his family here to distract him. That
his brother’s grab for power, at Victor’s own perceived weak moment, is enough to keep his mind off of
the collapse of his most important relationship, that with his Luna.
But deep down, he knows it’s not that.
Instead, his mind fills with images of curling brown hair, of a laughing mouth, of that warm, sensual
body wrapped around his.
Evelyn.
Evelyn is the real reason why he can’t seem to bring himself to mourn the loss of Amelia. If Amelia left
any gap at all, Evelyn filled it seamlessly. A growl starts to build in Victor’s chest as he thinks of her, this
complicated, interesting, funny woman who lives across the yard.
God damnit, he wants her. Wants her in his bed, of course, but wants her…here. Beside him, forever.
She’s the Luna he wants, he knows it – he admitted this to himself days ago, told his therapist about it,
trying to find ways to sort through this desire.
But for the life of him, he can’t understand it.
Why? Why Evelyn? In so many ways, to the layman’s eye, Evelyn compares poorly to Amelia. Amelia
is objectively more beautiful than Evelyn. Amelia was a supermodel, for heaven’s sake, and she had
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relished the attention and media that being his Luna brought her. She was looking forward to being an
Alpha’s bride, a life from which Evelyn had actively fled.
And Amelia had been his mate. How could he want this other woman so intensely when the universe
itself had already found him the one woman who was supposed to be his perfect match?
Victor scowls, shaking his head and looking down at the dregs of coffee left in his cup.
God damnit, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand it.
But beyond understanding, he knew he wanted it. And he’d do anything in his power to get it.
If he could only get a text back –
As if by magic, his phone dings on the counter next to him just at that moment.
Huffing a laugh, Victor picks up his phone.
Evelyn: Hey, sorry.
He laughs again, shaking his head. Four missed texts, hours later, and all he gets is a “Hey, sorry”?
Another text arrives.
Evelyn: Busy night. I’m fine. Do you want to come down to the house later? We should talk.
Victor holds his phone tight in his hand for a moment, considering that he should probably make her
wait a little bit. Play it cool.
But who is he kidding.
Rapidly, he types out his reply.
Victor: Yes, sure. I’ll come down tonight. Can’t wait to see you.
He bites his tongue before sending it and deletes the last five words. Then he presses send.
Victor: Yes, sure. I’ll come down tonight.
He nods, putting his phone into his pocket.
“Burton?” He calls, looking around the room for him. The butler peeks into the room from the hall.
“Sir?”
“A little more coffee, please,” he says, raising his empty cup to him. “I’d like to get through my work as
fast as I can.”