CHAPTER 33: TIRED AND TRAGIC.

Charles’ POV

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, the sound of it clicking shut slicing clean through my chest.

For a second, I just stood there — breathing, if you could even call it that. My lungs felt tight, like the air in this house had learned how to hate me back.

Louis.

Of all the people fate could’ve tied me to, it had to be him.

The cruel part wasn’t that I loved him — no, I’d made peace with that a long time ago.

The cruel part was that fate wanted me to keep loving him.

Even now, after he chose someone else.

After he looked me in the eye like he didn’t feel it — that spark, that pull, that unbearable gravity that keeps dragging me back no matter how hard I fight it.

I laughed under my breath, though it sounded more like a choke. "The universe really has a sick sense of humor."

I could still feel his scent on my clothes — faint, mixed with Alistair’s, the kind of combination that would drive any sane Alpha off the edge.

But I wasn’t sane anymore, was I?

Not when I had to stand there, looking at the man who was supposed to be mine...

while he looked at someone else like they were his whole world.

I started walking — nowhere in particular, just away. Away from the room, from the scent, from the truth.

The hallway lights blurred into streaks, and my boots echoed too loud on the floor.

"You weren’t here."

Those were the words that had come out of me — sharp, cruel, honest.

And he’d flinched.

Good. Maybe he deserved to.

He didn’t know what it felt like to be bound to someone you could never have.

To feel their happiness and heartbreak like they were your own — but still not be the reason for either.

I ended up outside, near the back balcony, the cold air hitting me hard enough to sting. I gripped the railing, head low, the wind biting through my sleeves.

He was my fated mate.

My cursed, unreachable, stubborn, beautiful fated mate.

And he’d chosen an omega over me.

I wanted to hate Alistair — gods, I tried to. But how could I?

He was everything Louis needed — soft where I wasn’t, patient where I burned.

If anything, I hated myself for understanding why Louis fell for him.

I pressed my thumb against the spot on my wrist where the bond mark should’ve been. It never appeared.

Maybe it never would. Maybe it was fate’s way of saying "You weren’t meant to win this one."

I tilted my head back, staring up at the stars through the clouds. "You really screwed me over this time," I murmured to no one. "Didn’t you?"

The wind didn’t answer, but I could’ve sworn I heard Louis’s voice in my head — quiet, distant, filled with that same warmth I hated myself for missing.

"Take care of him."

Yeah. I would.

Because even if he’d never be mine, I still loved him enough to protect the man he loved.

And that was the worst part of it all.

---

I hadn’t laid eyes on them for a few days, but deep down, I knew.

You can always tell when something’s changed — the air feels heavier, quieter, like the universe itself is trying not to make eye contact with you.

They’d gotten busy. I didn’t need to see it to know.

I had an appointment today — Daniel and Anna.

Daniel had finally cleared his schedule, so I had no excuse to cancel.

The mirror stared back at me as I got ready.

White tee, black pants — simple, clean. The shirt clung just enough to show the edges of my collarbones, and for some reason, that annoyed me.

I’d lost weight. I could see it in my shoulders, my jaw.

The kind of thinness that doesn’t come from working out — it comes from staying up too late, thinking too much.

I reached for my accessories like armor.

A thin silver chain — more like a choker — resting cold against my throat.

A wristwatch.

The string of black beads Anna had gotten me last spring, when she said I "needed more balance."

And the chain around my waist — subtle, but I liked how it felt, grounding me somehow.

I looked fine. I always looked fine.

That was the problem.

When I finally stepped out, the day was warm, but I still felt that strange chill under my skin — the kind that doesn’t come from the weather.

Daniel texted, "Don’t be late this time."

I almost smiled. Almost.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and started walking toward the café where we always met.

Every step felt too loud.

Every reflection in the glass windows looked a little less like me.

Maybe I’d finally mastered the art of pretending.

Maybe that’s all I had left.

---

Daniel looked like he needed the break.

He was dressed too formally for a casual meetup — crisp shirt, tie slightly loosened, like he’d just escaped a boardroom war. The kind of man who never really left work, even when he pretended to.

Anna, on the other hand, looked like spring personified.

A pretty floral dress, soft pastel shades that somehow made her glow. Her hair looked freshly done, bouncing lightly as she waved at me. She smiled — that wide, sunshine kind of smile — and for a moment, I almost forgot that my own chest felt hollow.

"Charles!" she chirped, practically skipping toward me. "You’re early. That’s new."

"I’m trying out responsibility," I said dryly, sliding into my seat. "It’s not going well."

Daniel snorted, taking off his glasses to clean them. "That explains why you look like you haven’t slept in three days."

I shrugged, tugging at the silver chain around my neck. "Four, actually. But who’s counting?"

Anna frowned, a mix of concern and exasperation crossing her face. "You’ve lost weight. Again."

"I’m fine," I lied automatically.

The waiter came around, and I ordered coffee — black, no sugar. I needed it to hurt.

Anna went for something sweet and floral, of course. Daniel got tea, because he said coffee made him "too aware of life."

We talked — or rather, they talked — about work, about movies, about how Daniel’s boss was a walking migraine. I nodded, smiled in the right places, even laughed once or twice.

But my mind was somewhere else.

With them.

I could still see it — Louis’ expression when he’d walked into that room, the disappointment barely hidden behind his control.

And Alistair, asleep and trembling, clutching the sheets like he was drowning.

Suppressants.

That word still burned in my mind.

"Charles," Anna said softly, pulling me back. "You’re spacing out again."

I blinked, realizing my coffee had gone cold. "Sorry. Just... tired."

Daniel studied me for a moment — the way he always did, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "You’re not still tangled up in that mess, are you?"

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

Anna sighed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "You know you deserve better, right?"

I smiled — the kind that didn’t reach my eyes. "Yeah. Maybe."

But as I sat there, surrounded by warmth and laughter and the smell of coffee, all I could think of was the look in Louis’ eyes before I walked out.

Like he pitied me.

Like I’d already lost — even though I never had a fair chance to begin with.

"You look chick and your dark circles just give the vibe babes." She said smiling.

"Babes." I exclaimed chuckling.

"You look good." I said biting my lips, "You look stupid." Daniel said.

Anna gasped, smacking Daniel lightly on the arm. "Hey! Don’t be mean," she said, trying not to laugh.

Daniel only shrugged, sipping from his coffee cup with that usual air of smugness that made me want to roll my eyes and smile at the same time.

"You’re just jealous because I pull off tired and tragic better than you pull off overworked and constipated," I said, leaning back in my seat.

Anna burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink, while Daniel gave me a look — that signature one — half annoyance, half amusement.

"You’ve been hanging around Alistair too much," he muttered.

The mention of his name made my chest tighten for a second — quick, sharp, and gone just as fast. I forced a smile. "Maybe. But at least I’ve got better taste in friends."

Anna grinned. "That’s debatable."

Daniel groaned. "Can we not gang up on me for once?"

I smirked, "No, Daniel. That’s literally the only reason I came."

He sighed, muttering something about me being "emotionally unstable and fashionably vindictive."

Anna winked at me. "He’s not wrong though."

And for the first time in a while, I laughed — really laughed — the kind that reached my eyes and pushed the thoughts of Louis and Alistair far enough away to breathe again.