CHAPTER 8

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" I fell in love with the echoes of your touch, a silent caress that spoke louder than hands ever could."

Ava's POV:

“Um… I… Me,” I stammered like an idiot. His eyes were gleaming, his blissful gazes making my knees weak. I didn't even listen his words. He doesn’t know the effect he has on me.

“Yes love,” he tilted his neck and smirked. I looked down, his gaze was doing something to me.

“Wha… I," Dang! What’s wrong with me? Why am I stuttering like an idiot?

“Why are you embarrassing us,” my Wolf wined, making my eyes wide as watermelons.

Like seriously! Fucking traitor. Now, she is talking.

“Pack your bags, You are moving in with me,” he said and turned around to leave. Moving? Like the pack house? What the hell does he mean by moving in with him?

“Come again,” I asked, not believing my ears.

“Pack your stuff, I'll fetch you around 8,” he said and ran his fingers through his hair. A habit of his, he do when he is nervous or stressed.

He said it so casually, while I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he wanted me to move in with him.

In the puzzle of love, I should be smiling, right? With my mate, the one I wanted. But each day, I see them loving others, and it hurts. I just want to be with them, where their love is mine, not shared like crumbs. I want to be cherished as mates do, with no complications, just simple love. How do I find happiness in this tangled mess of feelings?

“How can you love someone you don’t know,”?

I remember Xavier saying this, justifying his rejection. Should I move in with him? Maybe after spending some time with me, he will start loving me? What should I do? But there I will see Xavier and Jessica every day. What should I choose, love or self-respect?

Why does love crave so many sacrifices? Love, like a tricky friend, asks for a lot. It's this sweet treat, but also a bitter potion. It's not all roses; you give up stuff. It's a mix of nice and tough, a journey where sweetness and sacrifices walk hand in hand.

Looking at Xavier, who was still waiting for my answer, I can see why Laila Majnun and Romeo Juliet, pick death than give up on their love. Sleepless nights, butterflies in the tummy, and drought of food and sleep, nothing matters, only our love matters.

"I can't move in with you, even though I love you more than anything. My self-respect is something I can't give up. You've been my love since I first understood what love is, but I have to hold on to my worth," I confessed, the ache in my heart evident in my words.

"Loving shouldn't hurt this much than why it's hurting," I tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek. I felt him shiver, and electricity shot through our bodies. I slowly took steps back from him while tears streaming my eyes, silently pleading him to end this agony, and the moon goddess, that was the most painful thing. Turning around, I ran from there.

“He asked me to move in with him,” I told Cora and Fleur slowly, looking outside through the car window, not being able to look into their eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Cora said. This broke me out of my trance.

Fleur's eyes bore into Ava's, reflecting a mixture of empathy and wisdom. "Spending time together doesn't mean surrendering your self-respect, Ava. It's a chance for both of you to unravel the complexities of your bond. Don't deny yourself the opportunity to understand what lies beneath the surface."

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