Chapter 392
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392
Third Person’s POV
Dwight returned to the house on Begonia Street.
First, he rinsed his mouth, spitting out every trace of the blood. He couldn’t bear to worry Willow.
Only two servants were at the Begonia Street residence: one bustling in the kitchen, the other likely tending to Willow.
Alone in the tea room, he swished mouthwash around. His head throbbed, and the left side of his mouth felt split open. After enduring the pain for a while, he forced back his tears.
Melinda’s heart was truly ruthless, repeatedly having others assault her own mate.
He had been blind back then, deceived by her gentle and soft demeanor, unaware that deep down she was as vicious as her cousin, Luna Adelaide.
His grandmother and father would surely learn of his beating.
This would justify his angry departure from the pack.
When the pack sent for him again, he mustn’t readily return.
“Bring me a towel…”
He called out before remembering that the omega tasked with his daily care hadn’t followed him from the Soulrend Pack.
His employment contract was in his mother’s hands, and she forbade him from bringing the omega along.
Years of living as a pampered young master made him feel utterly wretched now.
He recalled his former self, later mating with Melinda and becoming the companion of a royal family member.
Though new to politics, everyone had praised his bright future. How glorious that had been!
Yet the higher he had once soared, the more desolate he now felt.
After rinsing his mouth and cleaning his face, he headed toward Willow’s room.
Upon entering, he spotted a suitcase by the wall. Willow, dressed and facing away, appeared ready to leave.
Her hair was tied in a simple ponytail. She wore a light blue denim skirt she had adored when he bought it, paired with a white T–shirt and a dark blue denim jacket.
“Willow!” Dwight called out, embracing her from behind and kissing her cheek.
“Whose suitcase is this ? ”
Wilorina slowly pushed him away, her once–gentle face now cold as frost. “I’m not Willow. My name is
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Wilorina .”
Dwight’s arms fell empty. He stared, stunned. “To me, Wilorina and Willow are the same .
Wilorina stood up, her eyes icy. “Suit yourself.”
Dwight’s heart raced with panic. “Willow, what’s wrong?”
Wilorina picked up the suitcase, her tone indifferent. “I’m here to say goodbye. From now on, you go your way, and I’ll live my life.”
Dwight felt as if struck by lightning. His swollen face froze. “What are you saying?”
Wilorina looked at him, her once–loving eyes now cold and shattered. “I mean, our relationship is over
“Why?”
His lips trembling with fear, he grabbed Wilorina’s hand. “Did someone from the Soulrend Pack come? Someone from Melinda’s side? Did they bully you? Are they forcing you to leave me?”
He fumbled to pull her into his arms. “Ignore whatever they say or do. I won’t leave you. I’ll never cast you aside. I’ve lost everything, but my love for you remains. I won’t let you go.”
Wilorina rolled her eyes, dropping all pretense. “I don’t want you anymore. Look at yourself! You’ve lost your position and your status as the pack heir. You can’t inherit the family fortune. You have a degree but no real use. Your reputation for spoiling lovers and offending friends is all over the city. No one would hire you. I despise you. Don’t contact me again!”
With that, she strode out.
Dwight chased after her, veins bulging. “You said you loved me!”
Without turning, she spat, “I lied. You’re useless!”
Those words from his beloved shattered Dwight completely.
He spun, the world blacking out, and collapsed.
After being revived by servants, he sat in the yard, unresponsive, his heart hollow.
Outside on Begonia Street, Hunt’s men watched.
When informed, Hunt frowned. “Didn’t Wilorina say she’d break things off properly? Well, he’s useless anyway. The Soulrend Pack’s reputation is already in tatters. Forget him.”
For two days, Dwight neither ate nor drank at Begonia Street.
Wilorina’s departure didn’t hurt as much as her final words.
He had always been arrogant, a young elite from a prestigious school, admired by many debutantes.
He considered himself a genius, born to stand out.
He had defied conventions to be unique, even to be a moral icon.
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Losing his position for Willow hadn’t frightened him.
He believed their love defied societal norms, and future generations would admire their courage.
Temporary slander would fade; their love would be remembered.
But when he lost his status as the pack heir, panic crept in.