Claimed by My Bully Alpha Chapter 362

Aurora’s P.O.V

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped my lungs. Relief and a flicker of hope warmed my chest. “Thank you.”

“And about Avery,” he added, glancing toward the horizon like he was weighing his words, “she’s dealing with her own stuff. I don’t think it’s just about you. Or Riley. She’s been off for a while now. Probably after she learned that Violet’s parent’s came to the pack, but no one came for her.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. I think Avery was blaming herself for telling me her secrets, especially when she had been so scared in sharing them in the first place.

"Aurora," he started, his voice soft but steady, like he’d been rehearsing what he was about to say. “I know you’re trying to reconnect, and I want the same, okay? I want things to go back to how they were. I want you, Maggie, and Avery to be close again. But... they’re still young. And a little lost, I think.” He sighed, looking away for a moment before his eyes found mine again.

“They’ve been through a lot too, and right now, they think they can’t trust you with their secrets anymore. That’s why they’re keeping their distance. It’s not because they don’t love you. They just… feel like they need to protect themselves.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to let the sting reach my eyes. It was stupid how much it hurt to hear that. Like a part of me was being quietly disowned by the only people I had left. “I didn’t mean to break anything between us,” I whispered, my voice tighter than I expected. “I was just trying to be honest. Trying to help. I never thought that being honest would cost me them.”

“I know,” Ashton said, stepping closer. “I know, Aurora. And they’ll come to understand that too. I’m talking to them. I’ve been trying to make them see that you’re still you. That you’re the same person who stayed up with Maggie when she had a fever, who helped Avery pass that physics exam when no one else had the patience. You didn’t stop being you. They’re just… reacting. Like kids do.”

That didn’t make me feel better, but it gave me a direction, a reason to keep trying. Maybe I hadn’t ruined everything. Maybe there was still a chance to fix it.

“Thanks for being honest,” I murmured.

“You’re more than welcome.”

There was something about the way he said that—gentle, grounded—that broke me. I blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from falling, and then I reached out, gripping his hand. “Thank you, Ashton,” I murmured. “You’re the brother I never had, you know? You’ve always been there… even when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His lips curved into a small, tired smile. “You’ll never have to find out,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Because no matter what happens with them, I’ll always be your brother. And you can come to me for anything, Aurora. You hear me? Anything.”

I nodded, a soft laugh slipping past my lips, teary and grateful. “God, I wish I could hug you without crying like an idiot right now.”

He chuckled. “Cry if you want. I’ve seen worse. Remember that time you sobbed over the last episode of that fantasy show because your favorite character died?”

I punched his arm lightly, and he laughed louder. “Okay, okay, fair,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “But seriously… I want them at my graduation. Ashton, it’s a huge step for me. I want to look out into that crowd and see the people I love. I want to see them. I want to see you there too. Even if we’re not okay right now. I just… need you guys there.”

Ashton stood, brushing off his pants. “We’ll be there. Don’t worry too much, Aurora. No matter what it takes, I’ll make sure Maggie and Avery are at your graduation. You deserve that. And they need to be there. Even if they don’t realize it yet.”

And as he walked away, I realized something—I hadn’t just wanted to invite him and Maggie to graduation. I wanted them to choose to be part of my life again.

Something in me relaxed then, a breath I hadn’t even known I was holding finally exhaled. Maybe things weren’t perfect right now. Maybe they were messy and painful and complicated. But Ashton’s words were the thread holding the frayed pieces together.