The Breaking Point of Mate: Giving Up on My Alpha novel Chapter 59

Melanie’s POV

We were pressed together so tightly there was no space between us.

The heat from his chest radiated through the thin fabric of his pajamas. His palm rested on my back, and the unconscious pressure was right on a sensitive nerve near my spine.

In the past, this contact would spread along the mating bond, instantly soothing Frost and me.

Now, it only reminded me of the cord that had been violently torn.

Frost lifted her head deep in my consciousness, instinctively wanting to be closer to that familiar Alpha scent. But when she caught the lingering traces of a scent that wasn’t mine, she let out a low, suppressed snarl.

It was her primal resistance to an “Alpha who was being shared.”

I usually sleep very still.

When I got into bed last night, I deliberately slept on the edge, making sure there was enough distance between us so we wouldn’t touch.

So, unless-

Unless, during all those nights without me, he had gotten used to holding Camille to fall asleep.

In his half–asleep state, his Alpha instinct overrode his logic, and he simply followed muscle memory, treating the body next to

him as Camille.

The moment that thought registered, my hand resting on his chest slowly withdrew, my fingers clenching into a fist.

A dull, slight pain flashed deep in my scent gland, as if a sluggish, almost broken part of the mating bond had been accidentally triggered, before quickly returning to numbness.

I tried to shift slightly, wanting to slide out of his arm.

Maybe my small movement startled him, because his arm unconsciously tightened, pulling me even closer to his chest.

An Alpha instinctively holds onto his “mate,” even when that bond is damaged beyond recognition.

I froze.

Just then, a sleepy, feather–light kiss landed on my forehead, right along the nerve line near my scent gland. D

He murmured softly above my head, “Sleep a little longer.”

In that instant, a numb, almost defunct nerve deep within the mating bond was lightly plucked.

Then, I realized immediately that Archer’s “sleep a little longer” wasn’t meant for me.

Even in the very beginning of our mating, after our moonlit vows, he had never once held me like this when we slept.

And this warm “good morning kiss” had never happened between us.

So, I was absolutely certain–he mistook me for Camille.

I pressed my lips together, my eyes briefly burning.

The scarred scent gland at the back of my neck throbbed painfully. It was as if instinct still wanted to pull closer to draw warmth, but logic had slammed the door shut.

Chapter 59

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Archer wasn’t fully awake yet.

His breathing was deep, his arm subconsciously tight, like the reflex of any Alpha protecting his “she–wolf next to him” in deep sleep.

I looked at him, suppressed the sour feeling, and took a deep breath, letting Frost settle down.

Then, I slowly applied pressure, gently pulling away, inch by inch, from his embrace.

We had been pressed so close that even with all my care, I couldn’t help but disturb him.

Sure enough, I had only moved the hand draped over my waist half an inch and sat up to withdraw my legs from under his when

he stirred.

Our eyes met instantly.

He snapped awake, his Alpha alertness switching his gaze from confusion to cold clarity in less than a second.

He clearly realized the situation, too.

He paused, an emotion flickering in his eyes before he crushed it, simply releasing the foot that had been resting on my leg.

I pulled my legs back to my side, lightly pinched the sheets, and turned away from him.

Like performing a well–rehearsed movement, I slid off the bed, put on my slippers, and headed straight into the bathroom.

When I came out, Archer’s scent was gone from the room.

The bed was neatly made, and his laptop on the desk was closed. It was as if he had only paused here for the night, never truly treating this bedroom as a shared space with me.

I walked out and saw him still in his pajamas, taking a call at the end of the hallway.

His back was to me, and his voice was very low. I only heard fragments of words, mostly related to work.

I only glanced at him before walking downstairs.

Moira was already awake, sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper. The smell of coffee and frying bacon mixed in the

air.

Soon, Trista clattered down the stairs.

“You’re all up,” Moira chuckled. “Time for breakfast.”

“Great!” Trista finished her response, and Archer came down the stairs, walking straight to the chair beside mine and sitting

down.

Remembering the scene from this morning, I instinctively shifted away, creating a clear gap between us.

My plate had the standard breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and a small bowl of vegetable salad.

I lowered my head to sip my soup, trying not to let my gaze lift above the edge of the bowl.

Trista was slurping her noodles, looking up at Archer.

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