Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Frigid cold shrouds me as I sprint to bolt in her direction, but since I’m restrained, I’m jerked back painfully, landing on my ass. I don’t know if I’m about to shift or not, this chill is different, but I do know something’s wrong. Cataclysmically wrong.
If I shift, I’ll become the problem instead of the solution, so I box-breathe to the count of two for each edge instead of four while I unlock all the locks. I leave the mask on and sprint for my Airstream. It’s dark, but she’s there.
No other scents; just her. And the door is fucking unlocked!
She’s sitting upright in my bed, eyes full of fear, looking disoriented.
“What?” I demand.
She’s breathless, breathtaking, too. She wears one of those sports bras and a pair of bikini underwear. The blanket and sheets are half-off the bed.
She drags her hands through her hair and shudders.
“I…”
“What?” I demand and it comes out harsher than I want. But I’m amped, because of her.
“I…” She bursts into tears and buries her face in her hands.
And I stand still like a fucking idiot. Because what else would I do?
I don’t even last fifteen seconds before I’m out of there, folded forward with my hands on my thighs, pulling in the wet night air, feeling like the muzzle is stealing the oxygen from me. I hate this fucking thing on my face, part muzzle, part bridle, but it’s all I can do to minimize the danger of damage to her.
She’s behind me.
“What the fuck?” she accuses.
I turn to face her, and she immediately shoves my chest with both hands.
I take a step back. She shoves me again, fire in those eyes.
“I’m not a crier,” she shouts at me, and more tears fall from those pretty eyes.
I say nothing.
She continues, “So… if you see me crying, something is very fucking wrong.”
“No shit,” I mutter sarcastically.
“Yet you didn’t ask! You took one look at me and turned tail, ready to fuck off.”
Bitter laughter bubbles up. “I’ve been ready to fuck off for days now, blue eyes, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She’s pissed. More pissed.
I say, “You’re expecting more than I can give you, woman. This is why it’s better for the both of us that this ends.” I gesture between us.
And the rain starts again.
Hard.
And we’re just standing here, facing one another, her being pissed and disappointed. Me being just who I am, really not good at this shit.
“I don’t cry. I don’t have nightmares,” she informs.
“Yet that’s what you’re doing. Bad dreams and bad feelings. All because of me. Go home. Go back to your life. Get the bond severed and then you don’t have to think about me, and I won’t have to fucking feel it when you’re having nightmares about me.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I am. Get inside. You’re getting drenched.”
I turn to go back to the bunker.
“And a coward,” she calls.
I sigh and trudge through the mud.
“A fucking selfish coward,” she clarifies, trying to get a rise out of me.
I grind my teeth but keep moving.
“Fuck you, you fucking asshole coward dickhead!” she calls out, voice sounding choked.
And I feel her pain in my chest. I’m the cause of it.
“It’s not just your wolf that’s broken. You are, too, Jared Stone.”
I stop and look over my shoulder at my gorgeous, fiery-mad, wet and scantily dressed beautiful mate.
“Now you’re starting to finally get it,” I say before I go into the bunker and close the doors behind me, locking them.
I have the keys. All of them. She won’t be able to get to me again. Won’t be able to tempt me to join her in that warm bed that smells like her. Won’t be able to tempt me with the notion of more meals together, more time spent with my dick inside her perfect body.
17
CICELY
What sort of alpha sees his mate upset and crying and just leaves? He felt my distress enough to rush to me, yet stood there like a deer in headlights before leaving. Just… leaving!
He’s doing a bang-up job of making sure I know just how messed up he is.
I need out of here. I’m going for a run.
I peel my wet clothes off and toss them to the camping chair outside the camper before I shift and sprint deeper into the woods.
I run fast, I run hard, and astonishingly, I skid to a halt just in time because I find myself staring at a valley below, and though it’s not as dramatic of a ledge, the wind hits just like it did in my dream.
I turn and look over my shoulder. No, he’s not behind me. He didn’t follow. And though it’s good this isn’t about to end the way it did in my nightmare, that isn’t much consolation.
I hate this angsty shit. I don’t want to be the sort who’s mad at her man for not considering her feelings. I would never have imagined myself to be the sort who sits around waiting for her guy to come to his senses.