I sit quietly in the bedroom I was frogmarched into a few hours ago.
The food tray some random Santo dumped in here for me is untouched, as Iâve no appetite.
Iâm lying on the bed staring at the endless white ceiling of a room that probably cost more to decorate than they spent on the orphanage the whole time I was there. Iâm bored out of my mind.
Nothing in the house has been working since my explosion. Nothing electronic, no lights at all, and they are working on rectifying it. Iâm still not convinced I did this, but it all seems to point that way.
Apart from the boarded-up window and the now décor-free shelves after they swept through, removing the carnage of smashed items, itâs pretty nice, all gold and cream with brown leather and opulent fabrics.
Itâs like a hotel boudoir in a five-star establishment and bigger than the entire lounge and kitchen at the rejectsâ home.
The Santos always were one of the wealthiest packs in Radstone, and it shows.
Their pack house is a mansion with endless hallways and rooms, and they have stuck me in their west wing, far from everyone else in the building, until they figure out what I can do.
I could scream and erupt in here, and no one would hear me. Iâm shunned to an unused part of their building.
Nothing has changed there from being one of the black marks they left to rot on the darker side of the mountain.
The house is now echoing with distant banging, drilling, and all sorts of construction sounds, as they try to secure their abode once more, and I canât say I feel any kind of remorse.
I mean, at first, I was in shock, kept questioning if I did that, if I was capable, and now Iâm numb again. Iâm exhausted, in need of sleep, but empty of all other emotions.
A light tap on the door draws my attention from counting cracks that arenât there, and I know who it is before they open it. I can feel him.
I felt him making his way down the hall toward me moments ago, and I really donât want to see him, or anyone for that matter.
That intense excitement at his presence that was there before is waning with everything thatâs happened since.
The bond isnât weakening, but my emotions are overpowering everything else right now.
Iâm grieving a family I never knew was mine and replaying the horrors while also trying to push them deep down in the recess of my brain.
âHow are you holding up in here?â Coltonâs voice drifts my way as he slides inâthat sultry sexiness that still elicits tingles on my skinâand closes the door behind him quickly.
I catch sight of him checking the hall before he does.
Obviously, by his swift maneuver, he shouldnât be in here with me and is defying some rule, probably from his father or maybe Carmen.
He checks no one followed him to the empty side of their palace.
I sigh, look back at the ceiling, and ignore him. Iâm annoyed that he is a part of all this and just another member of a pack thatâs shunned me for years.
âStill pissed, huh?â Thereâs a defensive quality in his tone, not his usual commanding strength, and I roll away to face the wall and turn my back on him.
I said all I needed to downstairs, and I donât know why he canât just leave me alone.
He told me how it was going to be that day in the forest, and yet heâs the one who keeps breaking his word and reaching out to me. Heâs pretty useless at staying away, and it doesnât help.
Every contact and conversation just makes us bond all the more, and I feel like I do know him.
It doesnât matter if our interactions to date have been sporadic and brief. I know him inside and out in ways that only imprinting can give you.
âI donât blame you. What you said before⦠itâs true. I made a choice, but you know why, Lorey. Donât hate me for that. Not that right now any of that holds significance with the new current events.
âThe elders are in lockdown in the grand hall. I couldnât stand being in there anymore. I had to come to make things right with you and talk.â
I hate that he has a pleasant voice, unique, sensually melodic, and that alone is enough to affect me.
I close my eyes to blot him out, wondering if the topic of the day is vampires or the freak wolf who just busted their house up. Not that I care enough to ask.
I remain still, donât react, open my eyes again and continue to stare at the shadowy and uninteresting cream-painted wall.
My body is betraying me in small ways at his nearness, but I clamp down on the sensations winding through my limbs and stiffen to stop his effect on me.
âSay something, please.â Colton appears closer in a flash, and I jump when the bed dips behind me, his warm body sliding up close against me as he lies down and winds an arm around my waist to turn me.
I donât resist but let him roll me onto my back, pulling my face to him until we are almost nose-to-nose, leaning over me and scooping down to bridge the gap.
Itâs an intimacy he shouldnât be encouraging.
The room isnât brightly lit, only glowing from candles in the far corner, seeing as I smashed every bulb in the house, so he casts a shadow over the both of us, making it near impossible to make him out.
I shiver involuntarily at our close contact, instant goosebumps from his touch and his general effect on my body and soul.
Iâm cursing the Fates for making me crave his touch, even when Iâm seething inside.
âSomething,â I mumble with lackluster and catch a slight hint of a cute-boy smile from him, making him more handsome.
Heâs amused at me for giving him an attitude. It serves the purpose of softening me a minuscule amount.
I canât deny the way contact with him always calms me, brings me instant peace when heâs not being a jerk, and sends my body and senses on high alert, even when I feel like this.
I push my bitterness aside and let his warmer mood seep in.
âYou asked me a question downstairs. You asked me if I remembered you.â Itâs softly spoken, the way a lover would whisper to you while held in their arms.
He lifts his hands to trace my cheek with his finger, removing a strand of hair that I couldnât even feel.
He leans down closer toward me so his breath fans my face, and for a moment, I wonder if he might kiss me again. I shake it away mentally, knowing how stupid Iâm being.
He already made it clear we would never be that.
He raises a brow as though expecting me to at least say something to that, but I stare at him blankly and give him nothing.
My head is busy with ludicrous thoughts, and I try to empty my mind before he picks up on it.
âItâs like that, huh?â He sighs, adjusting his position so he is propped up on his arm, a hand fisted against the edge of his jaw, and gives me a little breathing space.
He moves back a few inches but is still pressed against the entire length of my body and touching my face.
âTwo summers ago, before Carmen and I started dating. You were wearing a green dress, serving candy floss at the meadow festival.
âYou served me, wouldnât look me in the eye, and when you passed me my change, you dropped it on the ledge rather than hand it to me. You had a yellow flower in your hair.â
His voice is soft and husky, and I try hard to lock on his gaze as my memory dashes backward, trying to pinpoint what heâs remembering.
Itâs vague, but I remember the festival and the way his whole pack spent the entire day lording over the rest of us and causing mayhem.
It was an ordinary day, and nothing sticks out as memorable about it.
âYou have my memories, so how do I know youâre not just tapping into one of mine,â I blurt out, a little stubborn indignation in the mix because I know heâs trying to get me to be a little less mad at him.
Colton smiles, shaking his head softly with a frown, lifts his fingers to my temple, and gently presses, projecting his memory to me among the many we share.
It wouldnât be hard for him to look back and see me when he has all of mine in there to choose from.