CHAPTER 75: _ CRUSHED

"Wait," she blurts before she can stop herself. "Crush?"

"Oh, totally," Lira confirms, grinning like this is the juiciest gossip of the decade. "Nash has been meaning to ask Daphne out for ages. Guess now’s the perfect chance, huh?"

Isolde’s world splits open. Her lungs squeeze tight like fists around her ribcage. Crush. Nash had a crush—on Daphne. On her baby sister who’s doodled his name in notebooks since middle school, while Isolde sat in the background making snarky comments about what an arrogant idiot he was.

The pain that slices through her chest is unbearable and raw. It’s like the mate bond has taken a blade and carved jealousy into her heart, carving deep and merciless. She wants to laugh. She wants to scream. She wants to dig her own grave right here in the marble floor and lie in it forever.

Auro, of course, chooses this moment to pipe up. "Don’t panic. He might’ve liked her before, sure. But now he knows you’re his mate. That changes everything. He’ll come around. He’s ours."

Isolde wants to throttle her wolf. "Ours?" She feels like shredded paper.

"Did you not hear them? He had a crush. On Daphne. Not me. Daphne."

Auro huffs. "Pfft. Puppy crush. You’re the real deal."

Isolde doesn’t answer. Because right now, Nash is smiling at Daphne. Not her. And the smile is a jab of pain squeezing Isolde’s head. Just then, her gaze catches his at that exact moment. Their eyes interlock. The mate bond flares between them, pulling tight, binding, and suffocating. And what she sees in his hazel depths nearly kills her.

Disappointment. Not longing, awe, or desire.

Disappointment. Like the Moon Goddess herself has handed him the wrong gift and he wishes he could return it. Like he’s silently saying: I wish it were Daphne instead. Isolde’s chest caves in. She digs her nails into the strap of her bag, willing herself not to crumble. At least, not here in front of all of them.

Auro protests. "You’re misreading it. Don’t jump to conclusions, Isolde. He’ll choose you. He has

to. It’s fate."

But before Isolde can cling to that fragile thread, Nash speaks.

"I mean... if Daphne wants to go with me..." His voice cracks faintly, but his grin is bright as day. He looks at Daphne, not her. "Then yeah. I’d be honored."

Isolde sways. Her knees threaten to give out as a cramp seizes her feet. He sounds... happy. Genuinely happy. Like her wolf doesn’t exist. Like she doesn’t exist.

But then... "Hold up," Nash adds, glancing toward Ace and Lucan. "Give me a sec. I gotta talk with the guys first."

"Bro talk," Ace smirks instantly, springing to his feet. He claps Nash’s shoulder. "Let’s go."

Lucan follows quietly, hands shoved in his pockets. The three of them head for the staircase and Isolde watches them go, their steps like nails drilling into her coffin.

When they disappear, Daphne squeals loud enough to pierce eardrums. "Oh my gods! Lira, you’re the best! This is literally the best day of my life!" She throws herself into Lira’s arms, bouncing like a sugar-high puppy.

Lira laughs, hugging her back. "Told you. Nash likes you too."

Daphne pulls back, literally glowing. "I swear, Lira, from now on I’ll be your guard dog. I’ll chase off any girl who tries to sniff around Amias. You have my word!"

Isolde is silently dying. The conversation feels like another shovel of dirt piled on top of her buried body. She wants quiet. Peace. A drama-free life. But clearly, fate has other plans—plans soaked in chaos and heartbreak.

"Isolde!" Daphne’s voice cuts through her spiral. "Did you hear that? He likes me too!" Her smile is sunshine, blinding and innocent. Pure joy.

Isolde’s face contorts into something she hopes passes as happy. Her lips stretch, brittle and trembling, into a fake smile. "That’s... great, Daph. Really great." Her voice sounds strangled, but Daphne doesn’t notice.

Because Daphne is too busy twirling in the middle of the lobby like a princess who just got her fairy-tale wish. Isolde feels sick.

She excuses herself, muttering something about unpacking, before anyone can see the cracks splintering her. She bolts for the staircase, taking them two at a time, desperate to escape before the tears clawing up her throat spill free.

On the second floor, she slows, dragging a hand along the wall to steady herself. Her wolf is whimpering inside her. "Please don’t run from this, Isolde. He’s still ours. He’ll see you. Just wait."

But then voices reach her ears just as she’s about to reach the landing and proceed to the top floor where the Bellamys’ suite is, she hears familiar voices and freezes. It’s the guys. She’s not one to eavesdrop, but something about how messy hee emotions currently are forces her to stop and listen. She presses her back against the wall, steadying her breath in order not to alert their wolf hearing abilities.

"...Daphne’s gorgeous, bro. Totally my type," Nash is saying—or whispering. "Finding out her sister’s my mate just... ruined everything."

Isolde’s breath punches out of her. She clamps her hands over her mouth, shuddering as beads of sweat begin to drape her forehead. It’s Daphne... she is Nash’s type. That shouldn’t be a shocker to Isolde since she’s well aware of how gorgeous her little sister is compared to her, but hearing the words come from her mate delivers a level of pain she’s never prepared for.

For half a second, her heart leaps stupidly. Maybe—just maybe... he’s about to say he’ll fight fate for her anyway. That he’ll choose her despite it all.

But then Ace laughs. "No way, man. Not Isolde. Didn’t you always say she disgusts you? All that gloomy crap she wears? She’s like... allergic to fun."

Isolde’s stomach twists. She tastes acid.

Nash snorts. "Exactly. I swear, you need to know how much I wished I could strangle her back there. But you know what we were taught about the bond, man. Thinking of harming her felt like a knife pointed at my own throat."

"Oh, man. You’re in some deep shit, aren’t you?" Ace whistles.

Nash sucks his own teeth. "How dare she be fated to me? Me—with a mate who dresses like death herself? Who skulks in corners like some horror movie extra? It’d ruin my whole image, man. People would laugh me out of school."

The words hit her harder than fists. Each syllable is a dagger, shredding the little bit of hope she didn’t even know she was holding onto.

"She’s not even pretty," Nash continues, relentless. "Zero sense of fashion. Always acting like she’s too cool for everyone. She disgusts me."

Ace howls with laughter. "Bro, you’re savage."

Isolde grips the wall so hard her nails scrape the paint. Her throat is on fire. She wants to disappear and melt into the floor and never come back.

That’s when she hears Lucan’s interjection. "That’s harsh, Nash. Honestly? I think she’s the mature one. The only Bellamy girl who’s got the fire of an Alpha’s daughter. She doesn’t chase anyone’s approval. That’s rare."

Nash scoffs. "Please. If you like her so much, claim her yourself. You two can sit in a corner together, brooding about the meaning of life."

Ace cackles. "Oh my gods, yeah. Broody soulmates. Perfect match."

Isolde can’t breathe. Her chest is a collapsing cave. Auro keens, wounded, and howling inside her head. "No... no, don’t listen, Isolde. They don’t know you. He doesn’t know you."

But she can’t hear anything except Nash’s voice, replaying over and over, and shredding her from the inside out.

She stumbles backward, blind with tears. Her vision blurs and are cheeks are hot, and wet. She hasn’t cried like this since she was a kid. But now she’s running, bolting for the elevator, and smashing the button with shaky fingers.

The doors slide open and she collapses inside, slamming the close button. As they glide shut, she finally lets the sob tear free. It’s raw, broken, and ripping her throat wide. For the first time since she grew up, Isolde Bellamy cries. And it’s not quiet tears or controlled ones. But the messy, ugly kind that shakes her shoulders and leaves her gasping for air.

Because her mate isn’t just someone she doesn’t want. He’s someone who doesn’t want her back.