Jason felt like the worst kind of jerk. Guilt gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. He’d hurt his mate. He’d let a stupid, offhand comment from a friend get under his skin. Something about how two alphas “weren’t natural,” how it could never really work. Jason knew it was outdated, narrow-minded garbage, but somehow, it had made him overthink. Doubt crept in where it didn’t belong, and suddenly, something that had always felt so right started to feel… wrong.

So he’d brought it up. One thing led to another, and the conversation spiraled into their worst fight yet. He’d yelled, they’d yelled back, and now Jason was stuck with the fallout—the suffocating silence. They wouldn’t even look at him. He hated himself for being the reason they were hurt. And worse, for taking so long to realize how wrong he’d been. The thought of them leaving—of them deciding he wasn’t worth the pain—terrified him.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen. He couldn’t. They were everything to him, and whatever it took to fix this, to fix them, he’d do it. Pride, instincts, fear of vulnerability—none of it mattered.

As he stepped into their shared bedroom, the air was thick with tension. His mate sat on the bed, stiff and distant, and Jason’s heart sank. They were still upset, hurt too. Slowly, he sat beside them, careful to leave space, afraid to make things worse.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low and rough. The words felt heavy, but it was a start. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have doubted us. I was wrong. Completely.” He glanced down, hands fidgeting in his lap.

When they didn’t respond, his heart clenched, but he kept going. He looked up, met their eyes briefly, and said softly, “I love you. I don’t say it enough, but I’m saying it now—I love you. I messed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. To make you happy again. I need you to know that you’re everything to me. I’d never give up on us.”

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a promise, and Jason meant every word.