For the next five days, Nikolai Volkov became a ghost haunting the edges of Elena’s world.

He appeared everywhere.

On the first day, he waited outside the Voss corporate headquarters with another bouquet — this time deep crimson roses symbolizing both love and the blood he was willing to spill for redemption. When Elena exited the building surrounded by security, he stepped forward, tall and imposing in a tailored black coat, his raven hair windswept and silver-flecked eyes raw with exhaustion.

“Elena,” he said, voice rough. “Please. Just five minutes.”

She didn’t even look at him. She walked straight past, chin high, the bond between them screaming in protest as her healing gift flared painfully beneath her skin. The golden light flickered at her fingertips before she clenched her fists and forced it down.

On the second day, he showed up at one of her secret healing clinics on the edge of neutral territory. He waited outside in the rain for three hours, soaked to the bone, holding a small box containing the Moonshadow Medallion. When she finally emerged after healing a badly injured rogue wolf, he dropped to one knee in the mud.

“I brought it back to you,” he said hoarsely. “It was always yours. Just like I was.”

Elena paused for a fraction of a second, her hazel-green eyes flickering with golden-amber fire. The bond pulled at her so strongly she had to bite her lip to keep from reaching for him. But the memory of him dancing with Lana while forcing her to watch was still too raw.

She walked past him without a word.

On the third day, he sent gifts — not flashy jewelry, but thoughtful ones. Ancient healing texts from his family’s private collection. A handwritten letter detailing every memory he now remembered from the night she saved him. Another letter listing every cruel thing he had said to her and how he would spend the rest of his life regretting them.

Elena read them all in the privacy of her bedroom, tears streaming down her face. Then she placed them in a drawer and focused on her work.

She threw herself into healing.

Every night she slipped into pack territories and neutral zones, healing injured wolves, humans caught in supernatural crossfire, and even a few of Nikolai’s own scouts who had been hurt in recent skirmishes. The work grounded her. It reminded her who she was — not just Nikolai’s rejected mate, but a healer. A force of quiet strength.

But the bond made it torture.

Every time Nikolai came near, her gift surged violently, aching to soothe him, to wrap golden light around his tormented soul. The pull was becoming unbearable. At night she lay awake, feeling his guilt and longing like a second heartbeat inside her chest.

---

On the fifth day, Nikolai cornered her outside a small underground clinic after midnight.

Elena had just finished healing a young girl who had been caught in a minor pack clash. Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders as she stepped into the cool night air. She sensed him before she saw him — the dark, cedarwood and wild forest scent that made her knees weak.

“Elena.”

His voice was raw. Broken.

She turned slowly. Nikolai stood under a streetlamp, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His powerful frame was slightly hunched, as if carrying the weight of the world. Dark circles shadowed his ice-grey eyes, and his raven hair was messy from running his hands through it repeatedly.

He didn’t bring flowers this time. He brought nothing but himself — on his knees in the damp alley, head bowed.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I know I don’t deserve your time. But I can’t stop. My wolf won’t let me. *I* won’t let me. Every night I dream of that road. Your hands on me. Your voice saving me. And then I wake up remembering how I repaid you.”

Elena’s throat tightened. The bond flared hot and desperate between them. Her healing gift surged forward, golden light flickering visibly along her arms, reaching for him even as she took a step back.

“Stop,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Just… stop, Nikolai.”

He lifted his head. Tears glistened in his silver-flecked eyes — a sight that would have been unthinkable weeks ago.

“I can’t,” he rasped. “You’re my mate. My true Luna. I was too broken and too stupid to see it. But I see you now. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Please, Elena. Yell at me. Curse me. Tell me how much I hurt you. Just don’t shut me out completely.”

Elena’s hands shook. The conflict inside her was tearing her apart. Part of her — the part bound by fate and her healing gift — wanted to drop to her knees with him. To press her glowing hands to his chest and take away his pain. To forgive him.

But the other part — the woman who had been publicly humiliated, threatened, and rejected — couldn’t forget.

“You want me to yell?” she said, voice cracking. “Fine. You destroyed me, Nikolai. I saved your life with my own power, and you thanked me by choosing the woman who stole from me. You made me watch you fall for her. You made me sign away the future I had dared to hope for. And now you expect me to just… what? Fall into your arms because you finally feel guilty?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. The golden light around her hands grew brighter, illuminating the space between them.

“I’m focusing on my work,” she continued, voice gaining strength even as it shook. “On people who actually need me. People who don’t throw me away the moment it’s convenient. So please… stop coming. Stop making this harder than it already is.”

Nikolai rose slowly to his feet, but he didn’t approach. He stood there, powerful shoulders slumped, looking more shattered than she had ever seen him.

“I’ll keep coming,” he said quietly, voice filled with quiet determination. “Every day. Until you believe that I would burn my entire empire to the ground if it meant earning even one kind word from you. I’m not asking for forgiveness yet. I’m just asking you to let me prove I’m worthy of trying.”

He took one step back, then another, giving her space even though it clearly killed him.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Elena. And the day after. As long as it takes.”

With one last devastated look, he turned and walked away into the night.

Elena stood there long after he disappeared, the golden light slowly fading from her hands. Her chest ached with the intensity of the bond. She wanted to call him back. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to heal him.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and whispered into the empty alley:

“Why does loving you have to hurt this much?”