sharing my bitter past.

Caden’s POV

The room was quiet, bathed in the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. Amara lay beside me, her head resting on my chest, her fingers drawing soft patterns on my arm. Her touch was calming, but I could feel the tension radiating from her. Something was on her mind, and it was weighing her down.

I tilted my head to look at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “What is it, Amara?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated, her fingers pausing their movements before she sighed deeply. “It’s nothing,” she said, but her voice betrayed her.

“It’s not nothing,” I said gently, my thumb tracing circles on her shoulder. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a sadness that made my chest ache. For a moment, I thought she might pull away, but then she took a deep breath and began to speak.

“My life… before you, before Ryder, Jaxon, and this bond… it wasn’t easy,” she started, her voice trembling. “It was cruel, Caden. People were cruel.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but I stayed silent, letting her take her time.

“My parents died when I was little,” she continued, her voice distant as if she were reliving the memories. “I was passed around from one foster home to another. Some were decent, but most…” She trailed off, biting her lip as her hands clenched into fists.

I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers, silently encouraging her to go on.

“Most of them only cared about the money,” she said bitterly. “They didn’t care about me. I was just another mouth to feed, another burden. And the ones who did care…” Her voice broke, and she looked away, tears pooling in her eyes.

I sat up, pulling her into my arms. “You don’t have to say anything else if it’s too painful,” I murmured, holding her close.

But she shook her head. “No, I need to,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I need you to understand.”

I nodded, my heart breaking as she continued.

“There was one family,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought they were different. They treated me like I mattered, like I belonged. But then…” Her voice cracked, and she clung to me as if she were afraid she might fall apart.

“They turned on me,” she whispered. “They blamed me for things I didn’t do, made me feel worthless. And when I tried to stand up for myself, they… they hurt me.”

A growl rumbled in my chest, my wolf pushing forward at the thought of anyone hurting her. “Amara,” I said, my voice low and rough. “If I ever find them—”

“No,” she interrupted, her hand pressing against my chest. “It’s in the past. I’ve moved on. But it still haunts me sometimes.”

I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “You didn’t deserve any of that,” I said fiercely. “None of it. And if I could take away your pain, I would in a heartbeat.”

She gave me a small, sad smile. “You already have,” she said softly.

I pressed my forehead against hers, my heart aching at the thought of everything she had been through. “You’re not alone anymore, Amara,” I whispered. “You have me, Ryder, and Jaxon. We’re never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “For being here, for listening.”

“Always,” I said, kissing her gently. “I’m here for you, Amara. Always.”

---

The words she’d shared, the pain she carried, echoed in my mind long after she’d fallen asleep in my arms. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her soft breathing the only sound filling the room. My heart felt heavy, burdened by the guilt that churned within me.

I had been so focused on the bond—on the chaos of it all—that I hadn’t stopped to think about her. To really see her. I hadn’t seen the scars she carried, the wounds that ran deeper than anything I could’ve imagined. I had been blind, selfish even, caught up in my own emotions, my own possessiveness, and I had hurt her.

I had bullied her.

I had rejected her.

I had pushed her away when all she had needed was someone to hold her, to make her feel like she was worth something. And instead, I treated her like she was a burden.

I cursed myself, turning onto my side, my fists clenching into the sheets. Why? Why had I been so stupid? Why had I let my jealousy, my fear, cloud my judgment?

Amara didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be treated like trash, like an afterthought. She deserved someone who would see her, really see her, and love her with everything they had. I should have been that person from the start.

I thought back to when we first met, how I’d kept my distance, how I’d pushed her away instead of welcoming her. I had let my insecurities control me, let the bond drive a wedge between us instead of bringing us closer.

The regret gnawed at me, a constant, twisting pain in my chest.

I’d hurt her when she needed me the most.

I had betrayed her trust.

And now, here I was, lying in her bed, her warmth beside me, knowing I’d done more damage than I could ever undo.

I looked down at her, her face peaceful in sleep, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, my thumb gently caressing her cheek.

I will fix this.

I would spend every day for the rest of my life making up for the way I’d treated her. I couldn’t take back the pain I’d caused, but I could show her, with every action, that I was sorry. That I wanted to be better—for her, for us.

I gently lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Amara. I promise you, I will never hurt you again. You’re everything to me. Everything.”

And as I lay back down, pulling her closer into my arms, I knew that from this moment on, I would do whatever it took to make her feel loved. To show her she was precious. To never let her doubt her worth again.

The bond, the connection we shared—it wasn’t just fate. It was a promise I would keep.