Emma's pov

　　Walking through the thick forest, the trees towering above us cast dancing shadows on the ground, while the rustling leaves fill the air with their gentle whispers. It's so quiet, almost too quiet, and the tension between Matthew and me hangs heavy, like a weight pressing down on our shoulders.

　　I sneak a glance at him, trying to read his expression, but his face is like a stone wall, giving nothing away. It's awkward, and I feel a flush creeping up my cheeks as I remember how he saw me in that vulnerable moment with Michael. I almost lost it, but I managed to hold back the tears. After everything Michael did to me out there, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down.

　　Feeling the need to break the silence, I clear my throat and speak up. "Hey, Matthew… Sorry about back there," I mumble, my voice barely louder than a whisper. I can see his broad back stiffen slightly, a sign that he's processing what I said.

　　Great, Emma. You made it even more awkward.

　　"Is this the way that dick treated you after your best friend's death?" As Matthew drops that bombshell question, I feel like I've been sucker-punched. My mind goes into overdrive, a whirlwind of emotions swirling around in there. Guilt, sadness, anger – they're all mixed up like a crazy cocktail. I can't even look him in the eye, so I just stare at the ground, suddenly finding the dirt beneath my feet utterly fascinating.

　　"Yeah," I mutter, my voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. "But it's understandable, I guess. Michael's hurting too… Ava was his sister." My shoulders slump under the weight of it all. I'm not trying to defend Michael's actions, but I can't ignore the pain he must be feeling. I was there with Ava, I could not protect her. So partly, it's my fault.

　　"But that doesn't give him the right to treat you like crap," Matthew retorts, his voice firm and resolute. I sneak a quick glance at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. It's like he's trying to get inside my head, to understand what I've been through. "I don't like him. This is not the way you talk to your mate."

　　I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. The forest around us seems to echo with the quiet rustle of leaves, adding to the solemn vibe. It's weird how nature seems to reflect our emotions, huh?

　　I shrug, "He wasn't like this when we got mated. He was nice to me," My voice trails off into the distance as I wonder if that was just a facade.

　　"He's got no right to blame you like this," he adds, his voice firm with conviction. "Michael's just a pathetic excuse for an alpha if he thinks he can treat you like crap."

　　Matthew's words hit me right in the chest. It's like this warm blanket of support in the middle of a storm. Even though everything's messed up, his kindness sort of wraps around me, making me feel less alone in all this mess. He has a point.

　　Michael never trusted me in the first place. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so quick to doubt my intentions. It's stupid to think I am the killer when I can't have any motive. What will I get out of killing Ava?

　　My mind drifts back to that day. "But they found the silver dagger in my car trunk. So, naturally, everyone's pointing fingers at me," I say, my voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

　　Matthew cocks his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Finding one piece of evidence doesn't mean the case is closed. That's just lazy investigating," he retorts, his tone firm.

　　I purse my lips, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity. "But why didn't you suspect me? I mean, you barely know me," I ask, my mind buzzing with questions. He could've easily thought I was guilty, like my family and Michael did.

　　As we walk, the leaves crunching beneath our shoes, I glance at Matthew. He stops abruptly, turning to face me. "I don't suspect anyone without solid evidence. And I know that you can't do it, " he says softly, his gaze intense.

　　"Why?" I press, meeting his eyes.

　　"Because," he replies, his voice gentle yet firm, "even if there was a lot of evidence against you, I wouldn't believe it. I've watched you, Emma. You can be stupid, a little annoying at times, but not a killer."

　　As I absorb Matthew's words, a warmth spreads through my chest. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I hold them back, refusing to show my vulnerability. It's the first time someone has shown such unwavering trust in me, believing in my innocence when even my own family turned their backs. A strange mix of gratitude and disbelief washes over me. He believes in me even when he's the Alpha of my enemy pack and an outsider.

　　Is Matthew really just an outsider anymore? I don't know anymore.

　　I push the thought aside, focusing on the present moment.

　　"Thanks for believing in me," I say, my voice catching slightly with emotion.

　　Matthew nods, offering a reassuring smile. "Of course, Emma. Now, let's head back to the pack. I know a shortcut," he says, his tone lightening. "Try not to get lost into the woods." He jokes.

　　I chuckle softly at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Lead the way," I reply, falling into step beside him. As we walk, I can't help but watch him, feeling a strange sense of closeness despite our opposing packs.

　　"Also, I hope you are not bothered by what I said back there," Matthew says suddenly, and my brows knit. Huh? What is he talking about? I narrow my eyes as I try to remember anything that I have missed out. "I am talking about the 'mate' thing," he says as if he read my mind.