26

“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 down inside my own wrap of itchy blanket and try to not make eye contact; in the hopes 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 bigger 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 of 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 that 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 to love 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 in that moment.” She blanches, 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, 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 my blanket I 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 utter bitterness, and I can smell the stench of the betrayal which fuels her. He bristles lightly but just keeps pulling me across the hall without looking back, his mood taking a turn and I can taste his own aggression starting to peak.

“Like you have in the first place.” He snarls under his breath, out of her ear shot and I stare at his muscular back and shoulders and try not to react in any kind of way. I never thought I would ever see the Packdom’s dream couple talking to one another 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 definitely giving me the vibes as I feed on his emotions. It’s said in 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 rising up from inside of me, but I try and 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, but I’m sorry I screwed it up for him. I feel like I should be apologizing for something anyway. His life was fine before my cursed blood latched onto it and sucked all the goodness right out.

“Just remember who you chose as your mate, Colton Santo…. Remember, you made a choice! A commitment. Remember you chose ME over HER!” She yells it screechingly so, 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, from sheer proximity, of seeing his kissing me that night. She’s completely absorbed in her own 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 to 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, one of his hands sliding 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 handle of the bathroom door 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 in all of this, that it’s me you first loved, and me that’s made for you. 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 literally denied the fates and abandoned her, to take my place with a chick the fates obviously didn’t pick. How about, go be mad with 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 flinch and it wasn’t even about me.

Colton is obviously pissed. Majorly so. I mean to say something as hurtful as that to the girl he’s meant to be 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 pitch sound that sends me into a slumping cringe as I grab my ears and attempt to keep the pain out. I literally sync with Colton’s pain, crumbling in the same kind of agony, and know her ‘gift’ has just been used against us once more as an effective weapon. She really likes to throw that around the way a toddler throws tantrums.

It stops as quickly as it hits and then in eerie silence and I pick myself up from the floor, pushing 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 somewhere 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 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 deep irritation rising in me that I assume is what he’s feeling, and I’m absorbing. There’s definitely 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 theses sweats on and tying them tight enough, so they don’t slide down. He’s so much bigger than me and they swamp me with oversizedness.