Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession-Chapter 109: I’m doing my best

Trevor’s brow shot up sharply the moment Gary’s words reached his ears, the surprise etched clearly into every feature of his face. Yet before he could shape a single word in response, Freya spoke up.

"Huh? Who are you calling your woman?" Freya asked, her tone laced with incredulity so palpable, it was like a slap to the face. Her brows had drawn together tightly, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him like he had just grown two heads. "How many times do you want me to tell you that we are over, Gary? We are never coming back together. I don’t want you in my life anymore."

Her voice was firm, every syllable landing with the finality of a gavel strike. And yet, as she stared at Gary’s stubborn face, she couldn’t tell if he just wasn’t understanding her, or if he was simply refusing to accept the truth. Maybe it was both. Maybe he was clinging to the idea of them so desperately that he was feeding himself lies just to sleep at night.

"You don’t mean that," Gary insisted quickly, shaking his head as if trying to dispel her words like they were cobwebs clinging to his mind. His voice carried the fervent hope of a man deep in denial. "You only said those words because you were angry and because of him—" he gestured toward Trevor with a slight jut of his chin, "—but now that your father has talked to you about him, you surely have had a change of heart."

He spoke with such misplaced confidence, as though he truly believed logic was on his side, as though he couldn’t comprehend any version of the world where Freya wouldn’t want him back. He looked at her with eyes that pleaded and accused all at once.

"I’m never going to have a change of heart, so please stop trying," Freya said, her voice heavier now. The repetition of this conversation was wearing her down from the inside. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she exhaled a breath full of exhaustion. This has got to stop.

"You’re lying, Freya," Gary pressed on, shaking his head again, refusing to let the truth settle into him. "Me and you are not over. We will work things out."

He stepped forward. It was a small step, but enough to shrink the space between them so that he was standing closer to her than Trevor. His tone softened, changing gears, the sharp edges melting into smooth persuasion.

"Come on, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m willing to do what it takes?" he said in a quieter voice, a tone that once might have melted her, but now grated on her nerves. That was the voice of deceit. She recognized it now. It had once tricked her into thinking he was genuine, that he could change. But not anymore. That part of her had died.

"Leave, Gary. I don’t have anything further to discuss with you," Freya said flatly, turning away from him, already angling her body toward the door.

But she stopped cold, feeling a hand grab hers and jerked it backward.

She turned, frowning, her heart lurching in surprise as Gary’s hand clamped around her wrist. His fingers wrapped tightly, not painfully, but possessively.

"Don’t walk away from me, Freya," he said, his voice low and simmering with frustration.

And that was when Trevor reacted.

His hand shot out like a striking cobra. He grabbed Gary’s wrist, the one gripping Freya.

"The woman said no," Trevor said, his voice level but edged with a hard warning. "I think you should leave."

His gaze was calm, but something dangerous shimmered beneath it like the still surface of a deep ocean. He had hoped Gary would be smart enough to let go of Freya at the sound of reason. But the man didn’t budge.

Instead, Gary glared at Trevor, venom swirling in his eyes, and snapped, "Let go of me, you bas—ahh!"

The insult never left his lips. He groaned sharply, his entire face contorting in pain as Trevor’s fingers tightened around his wrist. It was like his bones were being crushed, his joints grinding against each other.

"What the hell, man? Let me go!" Gary cried out, the strain in his voice unmistakable.

He stared at Trevor in disbelief, confusion flashing across his face as pain stabbed through his wrist. How could someone’s grip be this strong? It didn’t make sense. It felt inhuman, like being clamped by a steel vice.

"Why are you being so dramatic? I’m only holding your hand and you’re screaming like a child in pain," Trevor said coolly, his voice devoid of the effort he was clearly exerting. He looked unimpressed, as if he found Gary’s reaction beneath him. "Real men aren’t supposed to be this dramatic," he added with a dry edge, almost mocking.

That remark cut deeper than the pain. Gary’s pride roared in protest, but his body betrayed him. He tried to yank his arm back, to twist free, but Trevor didn’t even flinch. The more Gary struggled, the tighter the grip became, and his wrist screamed with pressure.

In a normal scenario, Gary would have thrown a punch. He wasn’t known to back down from a fight. But this? This wasn’t normal. This was something else entirely. And suddenly, those rumors about Trevor didn’t seem so far-fetched.

"I’m not being dramatic, man. You’re hurting me! Let me go!" Gary rasped, his voice breaking despite himself. He was still trying to keep a shred of dignity, but it was slipping away fast.

"I want to let you go," Trevor said evenly, his voice steady and calm, "but you have to promise to leave as she asked, without causing any more trouble."

Gary nodded frantically, his teeth clenched so hard they were grinding together.

"Fuck, I’ll leave! Let my hand go!"

The moment the words dropped, Trevor released his grip.

Gary yanked his arm back instantly, cradling his wrist and rubbing it with quick motions. He glared at Trevor with unmasked fury, but he didn’t step forward again. Instead, he staggered backward, several paces away, trying to nurse both his pride and the dull throbbing in his wrist.

Then his eyes shifted to Freya, and they glinted with threat.

"This isn’t over, Freya," he uttered. "Your father will hear of this."

With that, he turned and stormed away, disappearing around the corner and out of sight.

Silence followed for a heartbeat.

"I’m really sorry for all that," Freya said softly, turning to Trevor, guilt pooling in her eyes.

But Trevor just gave her a smile. "It’s alright. I take no offense. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you," he responded.

"What did you do to him? He looked and sounded like he was in real pain," Freya asked, her brows creasing as she looked at him curiously. There was no faking what she had just witnessed. Gary had been nearly in tears.

"I didn’t do anything. You saw me. I only held his hand to stop him from doing anything stupid," Trevor answered.

"You didn’t just hold his hand. You squeezed his hand," Freya corrected pointedly, her eyes narrowing in amused suspicion.

"You’re right. I did squeeze a little. Nothing much," Trevor said with a mischievous smile that lifted one corner of his mouth.

"It’s strange. I’ve never seen Gary fold like that," Freya muttered, turning again to the door as she inserted the key into the door.

"Well, now you know he’s a fragile and dramatic man. His strength lies in his ability to spew threats," Trevor quipped.

With a soft click, the lock turned, and Freya pushed the door open.

"Please, come in," she said, stepping aside to let him in.

Trevor entered, his eyes sweeping over the space with a curious gaze.

"You have a nice place," he commented, the compliment genuine.

"Thank you," Freya replied, closing the door behind them.

"So your father warned you about me," Trevor said, lowering himself onto the sofa with casual ease.

"Don’t pay attention to Gary. My dad only did what any loving dad would do," Freya responded.

"Which is?" Trevor asked, tilting his head slightly, brows raised.

"Advising me to be careful in my choice of a partner," Freya answered offhandedly, her tone casual.

"Why aren’t you listening to him?" Trevor asked.

"Pardon?" Freya turned to look at him, brows raised, caught off guard.

"He told you to be careful when choosing a partner. Are you being careful? Are you taking his advice?" Trevor asked again, locking eyes with her, his tone gentle but probing.

"I’m doing my best," Freya answered honestly.

"Good enough," Trevor said with a nod of approval, settling back more comfortably.

Freya watched him for a moment, unsure why he asked her that question. But she quickly pushed the thought away. They had more pressing matters.

"I’ll go shower and pick a few things. Give me a few minutes," she told him, turning toward the hallway.

"Take your time," Trevor replied smoothly.

As she walked away, her footsteps soft against the floor, her mind whirled with a thousand questions.