I Forgot I Loved You Alpha (Ellie and Nolan) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Nolan’s POV

“What the ” Ellie’s voice followed up my own in disbelief. “We’re… not getting a divorce?”

Felicity blinked at me before her hand slowly fell from her hip. “Hello? You’re not divorcing her? Nolan, didn’t you just say-?”

I couldn’t look at either of them. My eyes shut, hoping for a moment of clarity.

My gaze eventually fell instead on the omega maid still frozen beside Ellie, her eyes wide as saucers. She looked between the three of us like she had just stumbled into a room she had no business being in, and knew she had heard too much. Said too much.

“You,” I said, my tone low, controlled. “You were gossiping. About your Alpha. Your Luna. Out loud.”

The color drained from her face.

“I–Alpha, I didn’t mean–It wasn’t–I was just-

“No excuse,” I snapped, voice sharper now. “Do you understand what it means to speak so freely about pack leadership? About private matters that don’t concern you?”

She bowed low, trembling. “I’m sorry, Alpha. Please forgive me.”

Felicity stepped back, clearly rattled. And guilty. The maid wasn’t the only one not holding her tongue.

My mind skimmed back over her words, how I’ve treated Ellie. I could hear the echoes of the rumors all over again, fragments over the past few months–half–laughs, sideways glances, whispered speculation about Ellie and me. I just hadn’t cared enough to pay attention.

Until now.

And suddenly, it clicked. The whispers hadn’t started on their own. They had a source.

I turned slightly toward Felicity.

Her mouth opened, but she didn’t speak, because she knew I knew about her gossiping ways.

I ran a hand down my face, steadying my voice. “Enough. Leave us.”

The maid scurried out, still whispering apologies. The room fell quiet again.

“I was only trying to defend you,” Felicity said, softer now, eyes glossy. “I never meant-”

“You spread rumors,” I cut in. “About Ellie. About me. To make yourself look better.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I did it because I love you.”

I didn’t answer that when the scent of pine needles and sweat poured over my memory.

Back when I was shorter, leaner, and had fewer years to my life, I remembered the clearing.

The same one I was dragged to before dawn most mornings, long before the rest of the world was even awake

1/3

Chapter 10

+25 Bonus

for morning coffee. The ground was always cold. The frost clung to the edges of my sleeves as I braced for another round. My ribs still ached when I thought about it. How many times had I hit the dirt with the wind knocked from my lungs?

“Again,” my father would bark. Not a trace of softness in his voice.

He wasn’t a cruel man. Not outwardly. To the pack, he was strong, stoic, revered. A noble Alpha of the old ways. But to me, he was a blueprint.

A checklist.

A standard I never quite met.

“Again.”

I was barely eight.

My mother stood nearby, arms crossed over her long ceremonial robe, her silver pendant of the Moon Goddess glinting in the morning sun. She never stepped in. Her silence was louder than any of my father’s commands. It was an agreement. Expectation. Worship, even.

They believed strength would bring the Moon Goddess’s blessing. That power wasn’t given; it was earned through sacrifice. Through blood. Through bones that cracked and mended stronger. My blood. My bones.

I remember one morning more vividly than the rest.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify