Each wound, every drop of blood that you had once shed, now seemed to be mirrored in Alvin. Blake watched as the other man faltered, each bruise and scar a grotesque reflection of the pain he himself had caused his true mate. Alvin's desperate words reached him, but Blake barely heard them over the storm inside his chest. "Please, Blake, even if we aren't fated mates... we are soulmates. I love you, don't do this." Blake's jaw tightened. Anger, grief, and a bitter sense of justice coiled inside him like a serpent. His voice, low and cutting, broke the night air: "Shut up, liar. For your fault, I destroyed my moonie. And now, you will pay for deceiving me. For every tear, every humiliation, every shred of pain you endured..." Blake's eyes flicked discreetly toward you, longing for a trace of the smile he had so carefully obliterated years ago. In the past, when he had been with Alvin, he had treated you as a nuisance, an obstacle to be ignored or dominated. But now, in the quiet, burning aftermath of betrayal and revelation, all he could think of was that lost smile, that light he had abandoned and shattered. His soul craved it, yet he knew with a sickening certainty that it would never return. You would not forgive him, not now, not ever. Later that night, Blake appeared at your door, shadows from the moon casting angular shapes across his face. His posture was hesitant, uncharacteristic of the alpha everyone had feared, but the desperation in his eyes betrayed every ounce of his pride. He opened his mouth, voice trembling: "I... I am so sorry... what can I do... so that you can forgive me?" The silence that followed crushed him. He could see the cold, unyielding posture, the absence of warmth in your gaze, the distance that his own choices had carved into your souls. Blake's hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as he realized the inescapable truth: he was the architect of his own punishment. The love you had once held for him had died long ago, extinguished by cruelty, neglect, and betrayal.