My Wolf 126

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Chapter 126: Unhealed Wounds

Chapter 126: Unhealed Wounds

(Ethan’s POV)

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

Olivia was alive.

My mate–the woman I’d mourned for two years, whose absence had left a gaping hole in my

chest–stood before me, more beautiful than my tortured memories had preserved.

“Olivia,” I whispered, the name falling from my lips like a prayer.

My wolf howled inside me, desperate to reach her, to touch her, to confirm she was real and

not another cruel dream. Joy surged through me, so powerful it nearly brought me to my

knees.

Victoria’s hand gripped my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. I barely noticed.

“Ethan,” she hissed, her voice tight with fury. “Everyone is staring.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Olivia. The chestnut hair I’d run my fingers through

countless times. The emerald eyes that had once looked at me with love, now cold and

distant.

Victoria’s grip tightened painfully. Her thoughts were practically screaming in my head through our pack bond.

This she–wolf, she’s actually still alive. The moment she returns, she starts trying to reclaim

her mate. How dare she!

(Olivia’s POV)

I felt Ethan’s eyes on me like a physical touch, but I refused to acknowledge him.

Instead, I walked with deliberate confidence toward Gwendolyn Pierce, aware that every eye in

the gathering was fixed on me. The whispers followed in my wake–the dead Luna, returned

from the grave.

I stopped directly in front of Victoria’s wheelchair. Her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with

shock and fear. She seemed to shrink in her paralyzed body, no doubt remembering our last

confrontation.

“Victoria,” I greeted her with cold politeness. “I see you’ve survived.”

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She flinched at my words, her hands gripping the armrests of her wheelchair.

“As have you,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

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I smiled, a sharp, dangerous thing with no warmth. “Who would have known that there is still justice in the world?”

My eyes deliberately lingered on her useless legs. The irony wasn’t lost on me–the woman. who had stolen my mate, who had contributed to my daughter’s death, now trapped in a

broken body.

“Do you remember what you said to me at Lily’s grave two years ago?” I asked softly, for her

ears alone. “You said you didn’t believe in karma.”

Victoria’s face drained of what little color remained.

“This,” I gestured to her wheelchair, “is just the beginning of what you deserve.”

I turned away from her, dismissing her as she had once dismissed me, and approached Gwendolyn Pierce.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” I said warmly, accepting the champagne flute she offered. “To new beginnings.”

Gwendolyn raised her glass in response. “To exceptional talent, Ms. Winters.”

(Victoria’s POV)

I watched in helpless rage as Olivia charmed Gwendolyn Pierce, the most influential she–wolf. in Shadow Creek. The woman I’d spent months cultivating as a potential patron had chosen.

Olivia instead.

And Ethan–my Ethan–couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Two years. For two years, I’d been by his side. I’d supported him through his grief. I’d been patient as he slowly opened his heart to me and Emma. And now, with one appearance, Olivia threatened to destroy everything I’d built.

I wheeled myself to Ethan’s side, placing a trembling hand on his arm.

“Ethan,” I said softly, injecting weakness into my voice. “I’m feeling tired. Could we go home?”

He barely glanced at me, his attention still fixed on Olivia. “Maxwell will take you.”

The dismissal stung like a slap. I swallowed my rage, forcing tears to my eyes.

“Please, Ethan. I don’t feel well.”

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Before he could respond, I noticed Tiffany Reynolds approaching Olivia. The minor crystal

designer had always been jealous of more successful artists. I watched eagerly as she

inserted herself into Olivia’s conversation with Gwendolyn.

“Ms. Winters,” Tiffany’s voice carried clearly. “Everyone is curious–what is your relationship

with Alpha King Stone now? Are you still pursuing him despite his commitment to Miss

Frost?”

I smiled inwardly. Gwendolyn Pierce was known to despise infidelity and home–wreckers. If

Olivia admitted to any lingering feelings for Ethan, the partnership would be over before it

began.

Gwendolyn’s expression changed, her distaste evident. She turned to Olivia, clearly waiting for

her response.

Olivia’s voice was clear and cold. “A dead man to me.”

Gwendolyn’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Shouldn’t a former husband who betrayed his own daughter be considered dead to his wife?”

Olivia elaborated, her emerald eyes flashing with controlled anger.

I felt Ethan flinch beside me. The words had struck their target.

Gwendolyn’s face relaxed into approval. She turned to Tiffany with a dismissive wave. “I

believe that answers your question. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Ms. Reynolds.”

The designer slunk away, her attempt at sabotage having backfired spectacularly.

(Olivia’s POV)

“Your healing crystal designs are truly revolutionary,” Gwendolyn said, guiding me toward a quieter corner of the gathering. “The way you’ve incorporated moonstone with traditional

healing elements–I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I was about to respond when a commotion caught my attention. Jeremy Collins, a server carrying a tray of crystal glasses, had tripped on the edge of a rug. The tray tilted, sending glasses flying.

Without thinking, I stepped forward, shielding Gwendolyn from the falling debris. Sharp pain. lanced through my leg as glass shards cut into my skin.

“Ms. Winters!” Gwendolyn exclaimed, steadying me. “You’re hurt!”

I looked down to see blood seeping through my dress. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was

bleeding freely.

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From the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan moving toward me, concern etched on his face. For a moment, our eyes met, and I saw the Alpha’s protective instinct flare in his amber gaze.

Then Victoria cried out.

She had attempted to stand from her wheelchair and deliberately fallen to the floor, her face contorted in apparent pain.

“Ethan!” she called, her voice breaking. “Please, help me!”

I watched as Ethan hesitated, torn between coming to me and returning to Victoria. His sense of responsibility won out. He turned back, kneeling beside Victoria’s crumpled form.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I thought I could stand for a moment. I just wanted to be normal again.”

Ethan lifted her gently, cradling her against his chest. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Victoria clung to him, burying her face against his neck. “Can we go home now? Please? I can’t bear to be here anymore.”

Ethan nodded, his expression conflicted. As he carried her away, Victoria glanced over his shoulder at me, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

The message was clear: she still came first.

(Olivia’s POV)

“You need to have that treated,” Gwendolyn said, gesturing to my bleeding leg. “The Moonlit Glade Refreshment Pavilion has a first–aid kit.”

I nodded, allowing her to guide me to the elegant pavilion at the edge of the gathering. Once inside, I sat on a plush sofa, examining the cut on my leg while waiting for the first–aid kit.

The sight of my own blood triggered memories I’d fought to suppress. Two years ago, after Lily’s death, I’d been consumed by despair and rage. The knowledge that Ethan and Victoria were happy together while my daughter lay cold in the ground had driven me to dark places.

I remembered the cold bite of the blade against my skin, the momentary relief as physical pain drowned out the emotional agony. I’d nearly succeeded in joining Lily that night, bleeding out in a bathtub far from home.

But my mother had found me. Evelyn Winters, the woman who had spent years searching for the daughter taken from her, had recognized me from news reports about the Luna of Silvercrest Pack. She had nursed me back to health when nothing else could reach me through my grief.

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The sound of footsteps pulled me from my dark memories. A familiar cologne–sandalwood and pine–announced Ethan’s presence before I saw him.

“Let me help you,” he said, kneeling before me with the first–aid kit.

“Don’t touch me,” I warned, my voice low and dangerous.

He reached for my leg anyway. I kicked out, my foot connecting with his chest, sending him stumbling backward.

“I said stay away from me,” I hissed.

Ethan straightened, his amber eyes sad but determined. “Wasn’t stabbing me enough to quell

your anger, Olivia?”

I maintained my composure as I reached for a bottle of water on the nearby table. With

deliberate slowness, I uncapped it and poured the entire contents over his head.

“Are you awake now?” I asked coldly as water dripped from his hair and face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not bothering to wipe away the water. “I’ve been sorry every day for two

years.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring Lily back,” I replied, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. “Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you let our daughter die while you played house with

Victoria and Emma.”

Ethan’s face paled with guilt. “Let me at least treat your wound,” he said quietly. “Then I’ll take

you home.”

“She doesn’t need your help.”

Lucas Blackwood stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the entrance. His gray eyes

were cold as they assessed Ethan.

“I’ll take care of my fiancée,” Lucas continued, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. “Though I question your judgment, Stone. Abandoning an injured woman to tend to one who miraculously tried to stand despite being paralyzed from the waist down?”