ARTEMIS' POV
Olivia literally karate chops Sera right into her delicate neck. Her eyes roll back into her head, and she falls on top of me.
One moment, Sera's obsidian black eyes were filled with animosity, craving nothing but death and vengeance.
If she could, she would have been foaming at the mouth while pressing down on my windpipe with a strength I never imagined such a petite body could possess.
In any other circumstance, her tiny hands wouldn't have had the power to restrain me, but that wasn't the Sera I knew. That version had been enraged, screaming bloody murder, and sobbing from an intense pain that I couldn't - still can't - understand.
Her hand, trembling with fury, had remained on my neck, each shudder directed at me. Several reasons she might have been angry came to mind: perhaps it was Ace, the contract, or maybe even the betrayal on my part.
I hadn't expected her to be so enraged that she'd smash a globe against my head or stab me in the arm.
And still, none of that even comes close to explain why her eyes had been black.
Could it have been an allergic reaction?
The eyes had been one thing, but her voice, almost chilling, slightly distorted, said things that made my wolf shiver - he crawled deep into my mind, hiding from her fury, almost like she was the embodiment of his nightmares.
I ponder this, sidetracking it for more urgent concerns, like understanding what's happening and how I can assist her.
For all I care, she could stab me in the eye many times, as long as she eventually calms down and communicates with me.
However, in the next instant, she's asleep.
After stabbing me in the arm, smashing my head, and strangling me with those hate-filled eyes-following the most passionate make-out session I've ever experienced-she simply passes out on my chest.
"Wow," Olivia murmurs, staring at her own hand, seemingly surprised by her actions.
"What just happened?" I ask, bewildered, as I gently lift Sera into a more comfortable position.
Olivia's eyes dart around anxiously before she nervously stammers, "Uh... you should probably leave. Like, right now."
As I slowly rise, pausing for a moment to process everything, countless questions race through my mind.
My eyes stay pinned on Olivia who is visibly on the edge.
She knows something.
"Explain what just what happened." My voice is firm - I'm no longer asking.
"Well, I..."
"Don't lie."
She winces. "I don't want to lie, but...I swear, I don't understand what just happened either. Sera would best explain it herself. I think..."
"Olivia."
"I'm serious. You can grill me later but right now, I really think you need to leave."
Olivia moves past me and cradles Sera, tucking her in as one would a child. The steady rhythm of her breathing and the gentle rise and fall of her chest offer the only sense of calm in the room.
I sigh. Maybe this wasn't the best time to get answers.
Then I'm escorted through the balcony, and the door is shut firmly behind me.
Damn, what a night.
But that make-out session though...
It was good. Too good.
Perfect.
Having her pressed against me, feeling every square inch of her skin, worshipping her curves and those supple breasts...
It was everything I imagined it would be and so much more. Every kiss felt laced with a drug, every touch ignited even more fire in my blood, and my wolf wanted to devour her.
I wanted to devour her... and I lost control.
I hate that I did, but I don't regret any of it, not even the stabbing part, I guess.
Truthfully, for a moment, I feared that this intense attraction to her, this urge to claim her, was just a way to satisfy my boredom. That perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me and once I had her, it would be over.
But now, I know.
No matter how many times I touch or kiss her, it will never be enough.
I will never get enough of her.
I want her.
Coming down hurts, especially when you've been stabbed by the girl you're desperately craving. And for some damn reason, the wound is taking an unusually long time to stop bleeding.
Where did she get the knife from?
Why were her eyes so black?
The thoughts return.
I ponder, frowning just a bit.
Does she really hate me, like she said?
More thoughts assail me on my way to my dorm, as I climb the stairwell, and as I stand just outside my door.
It's more overthinking than I've ever done. I feel like a child, unsure of the world, questioning everything out of fear.
What am I so afraid of?
I kick my door open, stepping in and locking it behind me. My heavy thoughts persist until her scent, thick in the air, distracts me.
My wolf alerts me that she's here - our mate, Kamila.
She sits on the bed, the one Sera used to sleep on when we actively shared this room. The bed I haven't gotten rid of and don't want to. The bed I sometimes sleep in just to inhale her scent, which covers every bit of the sheets.
That maddening, addictive scent.
Now, Kamila's tainting it.
"What are you doing in my room?" I ask, my frown deepening as I stare at the sheets rather than into her eyes.
"I've never really been able to let go of the fact that you asked another girl to be your roommate before me," she comments coldly, despite the wide grin on her lips.
Her legs are crossed, her fingers grazing the soft white sheets. She smirks with pure amusement, her head tilted to the side as she looks me up and down.
Her eyes linger on the blood on my shoulder and the side of my head before she looks away.
"You seem to have had a very interesting night out. I'm curious."
I remain silent.
Usually, I'd feel guilt at this point, guilt from finding someone else to fill the void in my chest, from running from my responsibilities and from her, time and time again.
My head would usually hang low, unable to meet her eyes. I'd apologize, promise it was nothing, and never look at the same girl again.
But this time, it's different.
There's no guilt, no reason to feel sorry or beg. No void left to fill.
I feel reborn, more confident in the fact that I want nothing to do with this relationship or mate bond anymore.
I'm done.
The moon goddess made a mistake, and even if she didn't, even if she believed Kamila was right for me, I reject it.
I sigh, walking deeper into my room, indifferent to Kamila's presence.
"I don't need to explain anything to you, Kamila."
She scoffs, rolling her eyes, almost as if mocking me.
I remain unfazed.
"I'm not surprised. It isn't the first time, and it won't be the last. I've grown numb to the pain," she says.
I don't react.
"My father called. In a week, they'll be visiting the school, and they want to know if we'll be fully bonded by then."
"Tell them I'm not interested," I reply coldly, focusing on changing out of my bloodied clothes.
"I understand you often jest and evade responsibilities. You're young, and you should have a life, but this is different, this is serious. It's not just about us; our families rely on this bond," she continues, emphasizing the practicalities as she always does, wanting me to yield out of obligation.
"I'm not interested, Kamila, in any of this with you. I've said it before. We should end this charade and free ourselves from the shackles our families placed on us," I state, clarifying my stance.
A silent pause fills the room before she blinks and looks away, a brief moment of pain flashing in her eyes before she hides it, just like she always hides her emotions.
"I see," she says simply and tersely.
I turn back to find my shorts, half-expecting her to throw a tantrum or guilt-trip me again before she eventually leaves, but then she remarks, "I guess one time wasn't enough."
"What wasn't enough?" I inquire, puzzled.
"How many times will it take?"
"Will what take? What are you talking about?"
"How many times will it take for you to sleep with her until you're bored? Until this game of yours is over, and you can go back to focusing on what truly matters? I've learned patience, you see. So, how many times will it take?"
Her words feel like a freezing gust, turning the world around me into ice, temporarily holding me in its chilling grasp.
Something about that wicked look on her face makes my stomach churn. I instantly sense that something is wrong. Her sudden presence no longer feels like a mere coincidence.
I pivot towards her, taking long strides until I stand directly in front of her.
"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" I demand, a surge of anger rising within me.
Why am I so riled up?
She doesn't flinch, maintaining her composure. "What do I mean? You slept with her, didn't you? That was the plan, after all."
A tightness grips my chest, my heart aches.
"What plan?"
Her smile broadens, a sly satisfaction evident as she holds something over me.
"The plan to make you get tired of her, to move on, just like you have with every other girl who caught your eye. The plan she agreed to in exchange for a favor from me. Oops, have I revealed too much?"
"You're lying," I grit out.
She raises an eyebrow. "Why would I fabricate such a tale? Think about it. Why would she suddenly invite you, especially after your little squabble? Did you notice the wine? Did you enjoy it? I picked it myself; I knew it was your favorite."
She chuckles, a self-satisfied sound, her fingers delicately covering her smiling lips. I reel backward, internally denying her words. But the pieces fit too seamlessly.
"Oh, dear. Is my cheating boyfriend hurt? Has your little human obsession betrayed your trust? You know, it was really easy - I guess you don't mean that much to her as you might think." Her grin widens, venomous and cutting. "The taste of heartbreak, Artemis, must be such a bitter pill to swallow. What is that old saying again? Ah, yes..."
Kamila languidly gets up from the bed, moving slowly toward me, leaning in till her lips grazed my ear.
"...what goes around, comes around."
I'm speechless.
Recalling how she'd kissed me after weeks of maintaining distance, her provocative attire, her initial nervousness - all of it starts making sense.
Her subsequent aggression was perhaps a means of revenge, a way to inflict pain for all the wrongs I'd done.
Vengeance.
As much as I want to deny, deep down, an unsettling realization dawns - it's all true.