AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I knew that as the truth already.
Because Morgan Phoebe Grey is someone I knew well, someone I know well.
But her name isn’t Morgan.
And after everything I’ve learnt, it’s clear she left this world for a reason. I just don’t understand how my mum played into it.
What was she doing at a wedding full of wolves? Where was my dad?
And most importantly... how is the woman who was meant to be dead—my daughter’s auntie at that—running my mother’s foundation?
44
MAIA
Ihold the photo up in front of me and point to the woman we all know. “You say she’s called Morgan Grey, but I know her as someone different. Emily. She’s someone I know well, and I’m not out here trying to get your hopes up. I’m confident they’re the same woman.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex says. His tone is empty, his eyes a bright, glowing hazel where I can see the silver flecks so clearly, but the bond shows something else entirely.
I can feel how terrified he is that I might be telling the truth. How much it physically hurts him to know that, all this time he’s mourned his cousin, she’s been alive, living her life, without letting him know.
He’s in agony, and rather than accepting the act he sees as a betrayal, he’s content to be in denial.
It’s obvious that it’s Alex who is upset right now and not his wolf.
Max hasn’t fought to make an appearance, but I can feel his contentment thrumming alongside the turmoil that Alex is in.
“I do know what I’m talking about,” I argue, trying my best to keep my tone soft. “Just because my reality is different to yours doesn’t make it any less true, love.” I step forward and reach out for him. I won’t force myself on him, and he doesn’t accept my touch.
“She’s alive, Alex, and whilst it hurts, it’s still the truth. Morgan is not dead.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and try not to grimace. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know how, but one day, you’ll see this as a good thing.”
“No, I won’t. Stop, little butterfly.” His voice cracks, tears filling his eyes, as he shakes his head. “I’m begging you. Please, shut up and stop. I can’t… I need you to stop talking.”
He turns away from me, and I hear him take a deep breath as tears fill my eyes. His agony is washing over me, and I’m trying my hardest to remember that he is not me.
That Ryan is not Morgan.
I’d be elated if I was told Ryan faked his death. I’d be angry and hurt, but eventually, I’d be so overwhelmingly happy that I’d be a completely different woman. The grief, the mourning, the loneliness, the constant stream of what-ifs would be over.
He’d be back. He’d be whole.
Phoebe would have her father back in her life, and she’d be able to bond with him.
And I want to argue that with Alex, I want to point out all of the good things. I want to continue my argument and try to bring him out of the pain and sorrow he’s feeling.
Ben steps forward, giving me a patronising look. I examine his feelings and frown at the dry, almost mocking tinge to his sadness.
“People can look similar, Maia, you know that better than anyone.” I flinch at the patronising tone, at the rude jab, but don’t back down from his gaze. I know Ben, and I know he’s not trying to be malicious. “She can have somebody out there that looks like her but that person is not her. Morgan is dead, darling. We’ve come to terms with it, and we don’t need to dredge up the past.”
“She’s not dead,” I protest, reaching for him. Ben takes me into his arms and presses a soft kiss to my temple, his breathing heavy, and his heartbeat erratic. “Ben, love, I can’t ever imagine how hard this is?—”
“No, darling, you can’t.” His words are from a broken man, and he holds onto me like he’s scared I’m the one who is going to disappear next.
“She might not be living under the same name anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s gone. Ryan got out of there. He escaped. He got to start a new life. If it happened with him… why couldn’t it happen with her, too?”
He breathes in my scent, a few droplets of tears soaking my head, before he steps away from me. No matter how much he hides his emotions on his face, he can’t hide them from my soul.
We’re one. We’re joined together, and I can feel exactly what he does.
