Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 274: Letting Go

Chapter 274: Letting Go

Eldur’s POV

It’s been fourteen days.

Fourteen days since she looked at me like I was death itself.

Fourteen days since she ran from me, trembling like I’d shattered her entire world just by existing.

And maybe I had.

I sat outside her apartment again, for the third time this week. The scent of sunflowers and that lavender lotion she always wore clung to the air like a ghost that refused to move on. I’d memorized every creak of the building, every flicker of the hallway lights. It was pathetic. Even Aethros, the wolf inside me, had stopped offering commentary. That was a sign.

She hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t even sent one of those passive-aggressive memes she used to lob at me when I made fun of her for dog-earing her book pages.

Nothing.

Just... silence.

She’d called in sick to work. Skipped class. Vanished like she was trying to erase every trace of where our worlds had collided.

And damn it, it hurt.

I leaned back against the corridor wall, staring at her door like it owed me an explanation. I’d left notes. Flowers. Even that stupid little ceramic fox I bought on impulse because it reminded me of how she scrunched her nose when she laughed.

Nothing.

"Nova..." I murmured, as if saying her name would summon her. "You can’t keep hiding from me forever. I mean, you could—but then I’ll be forced to do something dramatic. Like cry. And nobody wants to see that."

I waited.

Not even a breath from inside.

Typical.

I stood, brushing invisible dust from my coat, and forced myself to walk away.

Again.

The bookstore felt hollow without her.

Stacks of stories surrounded me, and still, none of them could explain what the hell I was supposed to do. Mr. Hawthorne asked about Nova twice. I just shrugged and muttered something about the flu. Then I shelved another fantasy novel with a dragon on the cover and wondered how the hell humans ever believed magic was just fiction.

Because if this was what magic brought—broken hearts, locked doors, and silence that screamed louder than any wolf could—I wanted no part of it.

Two weeks later, I found her.

Well... technically, I found Lara first.

She was slurping down some rainbow-colored monstrosity from the campus smoothie bar, wearing a jacket that could only be described as a fashion war crime. Hot pink. Sequined. Fuzzy.

"Daegon," she said without even looking up, "if you’re here to ask for Nova’s favorite flavor of lip balm again, I’m still not telling you. That information’s classified."

"I’m not here for that," I muttered, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Also, it’s coconut mango."

She blinked at me, then grinned. "You would know."

"Listen, Lara." I exhaled, the breath burning in my chest. "I need you to do something for me."

"Is this where you dramatically declare your love and beg me to pass on a letter like some Victorian ghost boy?" She sipped her smoothie with suspicious interest. "Because I charge for theatrics."

I ignored the smirk. "Tell her she can come back. To school. To work. To... life."

Her eyes narrowed. "And why would she want to do that when she’s still scared out of her mind?"

"Because I won’t be there."

That made her pause.

I continued, voice quieter now. "Tell her... she was right. About everything. I should’ve told her. I should’ve—been better. But I wasn’t. And now I’m giving her what she wanted. Distance."

Lara stared at me for a long moment. Something shifted in her expression—softened.

"You’re really going to let her go?"

My laugh was hollow. "I was never holding her, Lara. She just... looked at me once like I mattered. That was enough."

I turned to walk away.

"I’ll tell her," she said behind me.

"Thanks," I replied, not turning back.

I crashed at Mai and Liam’s that night. Mostly because Ollie threatened to drag me there by the scruff if I didn’t show up. Literally. The man has no chill.

Mai opened the door before I even knocked. She looked at me like one of those smug cats who knew you’d eventually come crawling.

"Look what the emotional wreck dragged in," she quipped.

I groaned. "Please just let me suffer in peace."

"Nope," Ollie said, appearing behind her with popcorn. "We don’t do peace here. We do dramatic interventions."

Liam walked up next, already holding a blanket. "And cuddles. I’m ready."

"Please don’t," I said, backing up.

But then I saw the concern underneath the teasing—and I crumbled.

They ushered me in, and within minutes I was sitting on their couch, wrapped in the softest blanket known to man, sipping something that tasted suspiciously like hot chocolate laced with regret.

"I told her I’d leave," I said finally, the words catching in my throat.

Mai arched a brow. "You mean... like leave leave?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "She didn’t even have to ask. She just... left me. Like I was something she needed to escape from."

Liam rested his hand on my shoulder. "You were protecting her."

"I scared her."

"Still protected her," Mai added.

Ollie tossed popcorn in his mouth and muttered, "Could’ve scared me too if you’d tried harder."

I gave a broken laugh, and something inside me cracked open.

"I don’t want her to live in fear. Not of me. Not of the world I’m from." I looked at them, eyes burning. "She deserves peace. And if I’m the thing standing in the way of that..."

"Eldur," Mai said, voice gentle. "You’re not a monster."

I looked down at my hands—hands that had torn through space and time, broken bones, carved out pain like it was a song.

"Aren’t I?"

"No," Liam said softly. "You’re just a boy who fell in love and didn’t know how to say it."

"Loudly," Ollie chimed in. "With screaming and probably bloodshed."

I smiled through the ache. "Yeah. That sounds like me."

They sat with me in silence after that. Not the suffocating kind—just... warm. Like the world didn’t have to hurt forever. Like maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t lost everything yet.

But I knew the truth.

She was gone.

And I had to let her be, even if it killed me a little more every day. Because that’s what love is.

Not always loud. Not always returned.

But real.

And sometimes, real means letting go.

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