I tremble in front of the massive roaring fire in a state of a surreal daydream in the room that Colton left me in when he brought me into his packhouse. A blanket draped around my shoulders, covering my modesty as he went and got clothes.
I’m tucked into the armchair in the corner, out of the way, while some of his pack pace around in the clearing directly in front of the flames, inwardly thrashing something out. They’re wired, agitated, the air thick with the stench of testosterone, blood, and fury, and more are returning by the minute to convene here in this house. The pack is returning from chasing off those vile murderous intruders.
It’s all in their actions, their mannerisms, but, as I’m not privy to Santo Pack linking, all I can do is watch the animated expressions and occasional outbursts of a word here and there.
They know I’m here, but they’re completely ignoring my presence, much as they have done for years. It’s not like I care. My head aches, and emotions are fragile, barely keeping it together, and I can’t stop replaying the horrific scene in my head of what I saw laid out in front of me in my courtyard. Vanka’s scent burns my nose even still, and I shudder at every thud they make while pacing around so erratically. Unable to wipe that noise from memory.
“Here.” I jump when Colton touches my shoulder, so preoccupied in my mind I didn’t even notice he’d come back. I’m too nervy, coiled tight, and antsy. He drops a pile of clothes on my lap, a simple gray hoody, a pair of sweats, and a T-shirt that I guess is all his.
“I’ll show you where you can dress in private,” he motions for me to follow, his face softening and his manner following. I think he can sense how not myself I am right now and reverts to gentle handling. He waits for me to get up, pulling the dark gray covering around myself a little more snugly, before leading the way out of the room with me close on his heel, cradling my new bundle against me. My head stuck in surreality and detached from a whole lot of feelings at this moment.
“Cole? We need you in this!” A voice echoes his way, and he throws the male a silent look, eyes glinting as his wolf connects with his packmate. An exchange of nods, and he turns his attention back to me to hold the door open out into the large, spacious hallway.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” A nasty biting tone is spat our way as Carmen comes marching across from the open doorway in the main hall, which is sitting wide open for returning wolves, and squares up in front of me, accusingly, shoving Colton hard in the shoulder as she does so. It looks like she’s just returned from the hunt, robed in a blanket like mine, and visibly grimy from being out as her wolf self. Most of the pack have gone straight to their rooms for fresh clothes on entry, but I guess she thinks yelling at us is more important.
Something inside me lets out a tiny murmur of a growl in outrage that she would physically shove him, come at us angrily after the night we have all had, and I quickly swallow it down and drop my eyes to the floor as she spins on me hatefully. Bravado waning fast as I sigh at my impulsive reaction with immediate regret.
“Did you just growl at me, Reject?” Anger swirling warmly in my belly as she pokes some deep internal beast. She bites it at my face, getting close enough to make me flinch. Snarling, scathing anger makes my body bristle, and, for a second, I swear my claws begin to peak involuntarily.
“Leave her alone. Go into the main room. I’ll be there in a minute.” Colton pushes in front of me to make her step back, intent on still guiding me away, but his need to protect takes over. She doesn’t like it one bit, and the change in her manner is evident. She gets even madder. Spinning to face him down instead of me.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell she’s doing here!” She spits a little more venomously this time, eyes glowing bright amber and throat eliciting a snarling, growling undertone in her words. She’s on the verge of turning, and her wolf is already riled and ready to fight. I shiver, not sure I can take any more violence tonight. I may have healed, but I’m in no state to have a femme go at it with me over a mate who doesn’t even want me.
“Trying not to die so I can also carry on breathing. Do you mind?” He snaps right back and extends a hand as if to say, ‘can we get by.’ Ignoring her hostility, exerting his dominance, but even I can tell it’s not the right way to handle Carmen right now. She’s running on extreme female possessiveness and green-eyed rage. Colton should be soothing her as gently as he is handling me, but he seems oblivious to that fact.
Carmen turns almost feral at his response, hackles rising, and her fingernails extend to claws as her anger leaches out of every pore. Turning and ready to thrash it out with her so-called mate because, quite frankly, he’s being insensitive to what she’s feeling about me being here. If I were her, it would probably be my reaction too.
“Over my dead body, you go anywhere with that mongrel! I forbid it. She shouldn’t even be here!” She can’t conceal her hatred and jealousy, barking an order that even I know she has no right to make to an Alpha, even if he is her mate now. I sink inside my wrap of an itchy blanket and try not to make eye contact in the hope she runs out of steam.
Submissive, nervous, beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically, and too tired for this. Doing anything with Colton is not high on my list of priorities when I just had the worst night of my life. I have more significant problems than teen drama and broken hearts.
“It’s called trust. She’s here for protection, and I’m showing her to a room so she can pull herself together ... nothing else. Don’t assume you can tell me what to do, Carmen. That’s not how this works.” There’s an edge to his tone, but as yet, his dominant vibe is playing cool and humoring her a little. He’s aware he could shut her down with that one tone, but he’s not trying to. I think it’s dawning on him she’s mad because she’s insecure, and I’m the very good reason to be so. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have the love of your life suddenly start loving another.
“Trust!! Don’t make me laugh. Where was that trust when you were inches from marking this little tramp? I wouldn’t trust you with her any day of the week. I meant nothing at that moment,” she spits, thrusting words like knives at his face.
“Well, it’s just as well we aren’t dating right now then, isn’t it? Might be an issue otherwise.” Colton snaps back in an icy tone, surprising me with that little statement. He shoves her aside aggressively before turning to catch my hand firmly and yanks me with him. I yelp at the sudden motion and almost drop the clothes I’m holding to my chest, anchoring the blanket in place. Distracted by his warm touch in my cool hand and by the absolute hatred being thrown at me from poisonous glares.
“I swear. You get one shot, Cole. You fuck up a second time, and we won’t ever be mates. I won’t even try to forgive you again. I mean it. Don’t fucking touch her!” She yells it after us, a stifled sob mixed with bitterness, and I can smell the stench of the betrayal which fuels her. He bristles slightly but keeps pulling me across the hall without looking back, his mood taking a turn, and I can taste his aggression flaring up.
“Like you have in the first place.” He snarls under his breath, out of her earshot, and I stare at his muscular back and shoulders and try not to react in any way. I never thought I would ever see the Packdom’s dream couple talking to each other like this or for Colton to be so cold towards her.
I’m supposed to be fixing things with her and rebuilding trust. Fat chance when she throws it at me, every second of every hour of every fucking day.
He sounds pissed, and he’s giving me the vibes as I feed on his emotions. It’s said in the link, and I dart a glance back at the seething bitch watching us go before hurrying to close the gap and pull my hand out of his with irritation. Something rises from inside me, but I try to ignore it.
I’m sorry that I ruined things between you.
Even though it hurts me, for the obvious reason, that there is a Carmen and they’re trying to work it out, I’m sorry I screwed it up for him. His life was fine before my cursed blood latched onto it and sucked all the goodness right out. I feel like I should apologize for something, anyway.
“Just remember who you chose as your mate, Colton Santo. Remember, you made a choice. A commitment. Remember you chose ME over HER!” She screeches as we reach a door diagonally from the one we came out of, and he throws her a stiff look back. Carmen is full-on shaking with a mix of anger and hysteria, obviously torn about her mate dragging his bond to some secluded room to dress. I can almost taste her mistrust and panic and can’t help but pick up on her projections of seeing him kissing me that night. She’s completely absorbed in misery.
“Yeah, I made a choice, but that doesn’t seem to register with you, does it. I denied the Fates and stuck with you, yet it doesn’t seem to weigh up much. I’m still dealing with this shit every day.” Oozing with sarcasm and simmering anger, he opens the door, ushering me inside with a gentle push as he slides a hand behind me, but he stays out there glaring at her in a war of angry snarls. I duck under his arm and turn to grip the bathroom door handle to shut it, but he still has his hand on the edge up top, holding it open. I sigh inwardly, wanting to be free of this little battle and not stuck witnessing it.
“That’s because I’m the mate you were meant for ... not that reject. Just remember that it’s me you loved first and me that’s made for you in all of this. You betrayed me, and I have every right to be mad about that.” Her tone is more pained sadness than rage now, but he misses it entirely. I stand here, mutely uncomfortable, trying not to feel anything at all.
“Actually, I think if anyone should be mad, then it’s Lorey. I denied the Fates and abandoned her to take my place with a chick the Fates didn’t pick. How about you go be mad at them for not agreeing that you were made for me.” He spits it at her, emphasizing her own words mockingly, and her instant gawping, shock, and sharp inhale make me wince.
That had to sting. I mean, it made me cringe, and it wasn’t even about me.
Colton is pissed. Majorly so. I mean, to say something as hurtful as that to the girl he’s supposedly repairing his bond with. I clock on to the fact my mouth is sagging open, and I quickly shut it and turn inside, trying to yank the door with me, sighing with relief when he realizes he is still jamming it open and lets it go.
“Screw you, Colton.” She screams it at him, that piercing, high-pitched sound that sends me into a slumping cringe as I grab my ears and attempt to keep the pain out. I sync with Colton’s pain, crumbling in the same kind of agony, and know she’s just used her gift as an effective weapon against us once more. She likes to throw that around the way a toddler throws tantrums.
It stops as quickly as it starts, and then an eerie silence. I pick myself up from the floor, push the bathroom door to click fully closed with my foot, and hurry to pull his clothes on. Shaking from that assault and hoping to God she’s run off to carry on her hysterics where her screams can’t rupture my eardrums.
You okay? Carmen needs to control her gift when she’s mad. That girl gives me major headaches.
He links me from the other side of the door, and I nod, stupidly forgetting he can’t see me. Not that it matters; his voice is tense, and I pick up on the frustration and turmoil in his emotions, wondering if it’s why I feel so tetchy too.
There’s a profound irritation rising in me, I assume, is what he’s feeling, and I’m absorbing. There’s a burning ember of ‘grrr’ growing in my belly, and I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s fallout from my trauma, and the anger and aggression coursing slowly through my veins is some kind of temporary PTSD. I push it aside and focus on getting these sweats on and tying them tight enough, so they don’t slide down. He’s so much bigger than me, and they swamp me.
I shouldn’t have said that to her. She just makes me crazy lately. It’s like I have no patience for her and no real guilt over what we did. I know that makes me shitty, but we are bonded, and she has no idea how hard fighting that is. In my head, we did nothing wrong, even though I know, technically, I cheated on my girlfriend. But she wasn’t anymore. I mean ... we imprinted! And that pretty much meant you were my mate from that second on, and it blanked out all other feelings for her. What we did was what we were meant to do.
He stops, and I inhale heavily. Guilt instantly thudding down on top of me from my own heart and not his, pushing my irritation button all the more, and I answer abruptly. Not sure I want to be the one he pours all his Carmen issues out on. I mean, this alone is making me feel sick with the stabbing pain it’s inflicting on my heart. I still feel the same way about him, so I don’t know why he’s trying to talk to me about her.
You don’t need to explain this to me.
In other words, I don’t want to hear this.
I know. It’s just this whole thing sucks. It’s a mess, and despite her being the one I’m supposed to be working things out with, I never stop thinking about you.
I inhale sharply, and tears instantly sting my eyes that I try to shake away. We went through this already, and it’s futile talking about it again. I know what we are and that there is nothing we can do about it. This is pointless and only drags out the agony of knowing so. He walked away and left me alone for these past weeks to let that hit home. This, now, it’s all just fallout from something more significant than this mess. The attack brought him to me and nothing else. His survival rests on mine, too.
Please don’t.
I try to shake him out of my head, but I’m too tired to close the link when he is this close.
I know. I made my bed, right? I chose. And it’s not like this could ever work. My father would never allow it. I just don’t get why the Fates would throw us together like this if we can’t ever be together. They’re meant to be the all-seeing power, and every choice has a reason. What reason did they have to do this to us?
His angst is evident, and I agree, but the way he’s rambling makes me lose all patience with him. Burned with my pain, frustrated with all this Carmen bullshit he’s throwing at me and now this, what sounds like regret and wishful thinking, and questioning our entire belief system as though he had no hand in this at all.
Wolves are superstitious as hell, and condemning the Fates is like breaking a mirror, crossing the path of a black cat, or worse! They always taught us never to question the powers that be, and this kind of crap could have all sorts of consequences for him. Not to mention, he’s getting me mad. It’s like he isn’t listening to the words coming out of his mouth and his utter Prince Santo privilege just plain pisses me off. He has no idea.
You know better than to question the Fates, Colton. Don’t tempt a curse. We shouldn’t question.
I try a diplomatic, please shut up in a stern tone, but he misses it entirely.
Why the fuck not? They gave me you and an inability to do anything about it. They made us love each other in a way that nothing will ever be able to kill, and then they made sure we couldn’t ever act on it. This is a curse! I can’t even be around you without someone busting my ass, let alone touch you.
I fall silent as I pull on the last item from the pile, gritting my teeth at his pigheaded denseness as that ember erupts into a little flame, pushing my nerves taut. A small candle-sized one that hits in the dark recess instantly glows and grows to epic proportions of a full flame that moves me to dress faster with a hostile last tug to secure my pants. My blood is boiling as it overtakes me, and I sweep my hair back with sass and angrily grab the door handle.
Yanking the door open, surprised to come face to face with him as he’s leaning his forehead against the door, and I almost headbutt him full on. His eyes glow with the turmoil of his emotions, but it does little to dampen mine. It only clicks my inner fury up another notch. They meet mine and lock on in that unique way we have whenever our eyes connect, the sizzle, the connection, but he isn’t expecting me to respond. Nor the rage. That little burning flame of crazy that explodes at the sight of him.
“You didn’t even like me before that night! You didn’t know me! This, us, it’s not real. It’s something implanted inside of us by something up there.” I point skyward, aggressively glaring at him. “We would never have fallen for each other, never have crossed paths, in any kind of way, if it wasn’t for the Fates. I wasn’t on your radar, and to be honest, I didn’t like you either.” I shove him back out of my space with a push to his abs, so he clears the doorway, and he just gawps at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have!
“You don’t even remember me do you, before that night? I didn’t think so! You need to pull your head out of your ass and remember that. Carmen was the woman you loved and planned a life with, and you chose her—loud and painfully clear! You said the words to me, and this is done. The Fates didn’t stop us, Colton. You did, and your family, and everyone else in this hellhole that confined my kind to a dark hole on the outskirts and left us there to die. So don’t you dare tell me how awful this is for you because you have no fucking idea what awful is until you’ve walked in my shoes for the last ten years. You have Carmen, and you have a pack, a home, and a fucking choice in all of this. I never did! The Fates didn’t punish you with this. They probably expected you to man up and do what they told you to do; for whatever reason, they decided on us! You did this to us! You did thisto me! Suck it up and shut the fuck up!” I have no idea where this angry outburst comes from, but I deliver it in a raspy, accusatory tone, right in his face.