RAVEN POV
I leaned against a pine tree and tried to pull myself together. I tried to remember why I’d made the choices I made. I tried to convince myself they still made sense.
But all I could see in my head was the way Colton smiled at Mara. Soft. Easy. Real. The kind of smile he hadn’t given me once today. The kind he probably never would again.
“You can’t hide forever.”
I jumped and turned around. He stood a few feet away, still in his suit, looking completely out of place in the woods.
We stared at each other for a long, heavy moment. The first time we’d been truly alone in seven years.
“I’m not hiding.” I said. “Just taking a break from being everyone’s sad story.”
“No one pities you, Raven.” His tone was cold. Tired. “They’re angry. There’s a difference.”
“Right. Of course.”
His jaw tightened. “What do you want me to say? That it’s fine? That everyone moved on? They didn’t. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t ask for forgiveness.” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“No. You never ask. You just take what you want and leave.” He stepped closer, eyes burning. “You took seven years. You took my—”
He stopped himself. Breathed. When he spoke again, his voice was controlled. "Your speech was nice. Very touching. Did you mean any of it?"
“Of course I did.”
“Did you? Because it sounded like you were sorry for leaving… while planning to leave again.”
He had me there
“I have a life, Colton. A career. I can’t just—”
“Stay?” His laugh was short and sharp. “Commit? Belong anywhere? Yeah, I know. That’s always been your thing.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” He moved even closer, close enough that my wolf whined inside me. “Is it fair that I almost died because you decided a mate bond was too much responsibility? Is it fair that I spent years trying to put myself back together while you were out traveling the world? Is it fair that you show up now and expect us to pretend none of it happened?”
“I don’t expect anything." I said. “I know what I did. I know I hurt you. But I won’t apologize for choosing myself. For wanting more than—”
"Than me?" His voice went quiet. Dangerous. "Just say it, Raven. You wanted more than me. More than us. More than everything we planned."
“That’s not—” I stopped. Because maybe it was.
He watched me, waiting. When I didn’t answer, he nodded like he already knew. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
He turned to walk away, and I don't know what came over me. Panic, maybe. Or seven years of regret finally bubbling over.
“I was nineteen.” I called after him. “I didn’t know who I was yet. I panicked. The bond, the expectations it felt like my whole life was already decided. Can you really tell me you wouldn’t have been scared?”
He stopped. Turned back.
“No, Raven. I wouldn’t have.” His voice was soft, but it hurt anyway. “Because I loved you more than I was scared. But you… you’ve always been braver with a camera than with your own heart.”
Then he walked away for real.
I stood there in the snow, alone, while the sun set and the temperature dropped and my father's funeral continued without me.
And I wondered again if choosing freedom had really just meant choosing loneliness.
If the thing I’d run from wasn’t a cage at all.
If it had been home.
If I'd made the biggest mistake of my life and was too proud to admit it.
The woods didn't have any answers. They never did.
So I went back to the gathering, pasted a smile, and made it through the rest of the night.
Just like I'd been making it through everything for seven years.
One day at a time.
One moment behind the lens.
Never actually in the picture.
That night, I lay in my childhood bed and pulled out my phone. Scrolled through seven years of photos. Borneo. Iceland. Kenya. Argentina. New Zealand. Australia.
Thousands of images. Hundreds of thousands of miles
Not a single picture of me actually in any of them.
Always behind the camera. Always observing.
Never participating.
Colton was right. I was braver with a camera than with my heart.
The question was, could I learn to be brave without it?
Did I even want to?
I fell asleep without answering, dreaming of ice blue eyes and choices I couldn't take back.