Chapter 27: I’m Sorry: Part 2

The Awakening SeriesWords: 11431

“There’s one problem with that little ‘hope.’ I don’t want you to touch me ever again,” I snarl out, penetrating him with my glare.

It’s the second wave of anger, even though I’m beginning to see that maybe, partially, he isn’t lying to me. He still made me believe he would; he scared me.

I can’t be sure he would have stopped, and for those few seconds of panic, before I blacked out, I was utterly afraid of him. You never do that to your bond.

“You’re upset and angry with me. Baby, I would never do that. I swear on the bloodline of my pack. It was killing me to push you that far, and I almost gave in because I couldn’t stomach hurting you like that.

“I had to see, I had to force your hand, and now look at you standing there, poised for a second round like a seasoned warrior.

“You weren’t that girl yesterday. You’re changing. Coming into your true form and adapting as you do.” He looks almost proud, but it tears through me, igniting the wrong bomb.

“Changing? I’m FUCKING furious with you! I’m REACTING because you’re a sick, twisted bastard who laid his goddamn hands on me in the worst kind of way.

“I can’t ever know for sure if you stopped. I only have your word. And nothing you say means shit to me now!” I scream at him, not caring if everyone in this house hears me blow a fuse and go nuclear.

What he’s done is unforgivable. If we weren’t so far on this side of the house, I’m sure a dozen Santos would have been in here already to see what the chaos and noise from this prominent battle zone were all about.

“You can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you that way.” Colton goes for endearing and submissively calm. It’s the wrong thing to say entirely, as I’m already volcanic. He makes me erupt.

“TRUST?! Like I trusted the Santos to care for their own when our people didn’t come home? Like I trusted you to stand for me and honor our bond when we were imprinted?

“Like I trusted you to be alone with me in a fucking bedroom and not try to defile my fucking body?! Trust, Colton? You’ve denied me—let me down more than once in our lifetime.

“You fall at every hurdle the second Daddy says NO. Maybe Carmen has the right idea, and you’re not someone I should ever trust.

“Look at how you discard women and pick them up as you fancy. You’re weak. You’re no alpha. Always in your father’s shadow. ~You~ are the last wolf I would ever trust or choose to bond myself to. Not after this!”

My words hit him hard, and his face closes up, the muscles in his jaw tensing as his eyes dart to the floor, trying to conceal the wounds I just inflicted upon his heart, but I don’t care.

He has done nothing to prove I can trust him, and imprinting stupidly made me think I could. You don’t insult a male’s pride and ego, and definitely not his strength.

Especially not an alpha, but Colton has not been a man for me. He’s been a boy doing what he’s told and denying what the Fates asked of him.

“Carmen slept with someone else, one of my brothers of Santo. She said it was out of heartbreak and anger to make me feel the pain I’d inflicted on her.

“So no, I didn’t just discard her. I had to swallow all of that and stick to my commitment. I made my choice, but she kept using us as a reason to punish me while conveniently forgetting her sins.

“Her jealousy and mistrust are her guilt. The imprinting didn’t make me indifferent to her—she did.

“She wasn’t fighting the bond or the lure of the Fates as I was; she was trying to wound me, and that, Lorey, is something you never do to a mate.

“That’s why I can’t feel anything for her anymore. It’s why we’re not dating. I found out after the forest, and since then, I haven’t been able to feel anything but disdain for her.”

His pained, low-toned words momentarily silence me and my anger, not expecting that mouthful or the knowledge a femme would betray a mate with his pack brother.

That’s all kinds of messed up, and I can’t believe he is only telling me now, even if his heart is no longer invested.

It would crush an alpha’s pride and ego to have been played like that. It could dent his respect in the pack, especially if he never took out any act of revenge on his pack brother to balance the scales.

By lycanthrope law, he should have publicly shamed her and punished her and his pack brother. Instead, he was still trying to fix everything.

With my rage fizzing out and my logical brain easing in to calm my impulse to wreak havoc on him, I slump onto the floor, completely exhausted, and pull my ripped sheets around me to self-console.

My head is a blur of what he just said, some weird sympathy for him, even if I should still hate his very bones.

“Show me. Prove it… that you never…” I can’t look at him. The storm has blown out of my sails, and I’m tired, but he knows what I’m asking and cautiously walks to me.

Slowly and surely, he keeps his eyes on me as though he expects me to turn and go for him at any second.

I can sense his apprehension, which gives me a hint that maybe some of what he said was true. Something made him afraid, something happened between us, and he is still wary and ready to defend himself if needed.

He reaches out when he gets close enough and touches his fingers to my temple so gently I barely feel it as he slides down to his knees, bringing his mind to mine, and projects the memory I am missing.

I close my eyes and let it flood my mind.

It’s as he says. After I blacked out, there was a moment of pause when he stopped, pulled my face to him from the pillows, and looked me over, aware I was no longer responding.

His voice was laced with concern, asking if I was okay and trying to rouse me, genuinely afraid he’d hurt me or pushed me too far and that maybe he had stopped me from being able to get air.

He turned me over carefully, checked my breathing, leaned in, and tried to stroke my face to wake me, saying my name softly.

It’s like I stopped and became vacant, and there were long seconds of no response from me. He released his hold on me, panic rising inside him.

Afraid he had done something to me, he checked my pulse, stroked my face again, and tried to shake me, whispering my name softly.

He didn’t do anything more to hurt me, just wanted to bring me around.

When it looked like he started moving to pull me up to sit, drenched in concern, I exploded, transforming in a blink, like he’d woken the dormant beast.

My wolf form seemed to combust out of nowhere; my eyes snapped open, burning red with the rage of Lucifer, and then all hell broke loose, just like he said it did.

I was out for his blood, relentless, and I don’t recognize myself in the memory.

I cringe as the pictures and images show me wounding him in ways an average wolf would never have healed from.

I was on him, after him, rolling around as he tried to battle me off without actually trying to hurt me. I bit him, clawed him, and savagely ripped at him, over and over.

I wouldn’t stop, and he was right—his power was no match for mine. He had to heal as fast as I was inflicting savagery to stay breathing.

I was a tornado of hatred that was not willing to give in, delivering a thundering blow, eliciting a yelp from him, so high-pitched it hurts even in memory, my ears wincing at the sound.

My claws sank into his chest, an inch from his heart, which I guess is where I was aiming before my wolf gave up.

Unable to stay in form when it was still so new for me and took so much stamina, I slumped onto the floor, all ability zapped out as I transformed back to human form, passing out in a useless huddle.

Colton crawled from under me, sliding his torn body out while yanking my talons from his chest. Bleeding out and groaning, he struggled to the wall to turn and save himself.

I awoke to find him back as a man, recovering. That’s where my memory rejoins to what I woke up to.

I have no words, and when he lets me go and sits back on his haunches, I can feel the relief swarming my way that he knows I can’t deny what I saw.

We can’t twist or alter the memories; he didn’t lie to me at all. I saw for myself that what he said was true. I can’t deny it in any way.

I sit in stunned silence and let it sink in. I’m so hyper-aware of his presence, sensitive, but emotionally all over the place and unsure how to feel.

“Imagine what you could do when you harness it and train to fight.” His words are hushed, his hand coming up to touch my cheek gently, but I cringe away from him.

I’m still on high alert and wary but also submerged in shame at what I saw myself do. I didn’t recognize that wolf as any connection to me. She was feral and relentless and insanely wild.

This is why they never allow us to turn if we can’t control ourselves.

“I could have killed you. I tried to kill you,” I utter in broken shame, my voice shaking and raspy as it all filters through, steeped in feelings of severe guilt.

I can’t look at him, but he leans in, sliding his hand under my face softly, tilts my chin up, and meets my eyes with his, a smile on that handsome face that shows no anger at what I did.

“The Fates wouldn’t give me a mate I can’t handle. Besides, if I died, you would have too, and we could have been together in the afterlife to carry on without all this drama.”

That cheeky smirk hits his face, mixed with relief that I’m finally calming down, and a little too cocky that he’s winning me over.

I can’t help the tiny ghost of a smile that twinges on my lips, a little annoyed that he always seems to be able to draw me out like this.

I have no words, and as I’m about to say something more, his face falls, and that serious tone kicks in, cutting into our conversation hastily.

“They’ve called all wolves to the great hall immediately.” He drops his hand from my jaw and jumps to his feet in naked glory.

I avert my eyes, suddenly aware of this and instantly shy. He has your typical alpha package going on, and it’s not exactly easy not to look at.

Generally, the males have something to be proud of, and Colton is no exception.

My face reddens, heat rising on my cheeks, and I huddle myself in, still recovering from this shitstorm we just put ourselves through.

And now I’m blushing to my core because I ogled him and realized he’s well-endowed.

I wait for him to leave, hoping to pull myself together with a bit of headspace and try not to check out his ass, but he pauses when he sees I make no effort to follow.

“That means you too. My goal is to have you initiated into this pack, Lorey. No matter what it takes. My father can’t keep denying us if you’re accepted.

“We need to have a plan… steps to being together. I don’t want to keep going through the emptiness of the last weeks and denying this between us. What I said in the forest—I was wrong.”

He shrugs as if he’s reciting some bland speech and not altering everything I thought was happening in the last weeks of agonizing life.

My eyes dart to him, shocked, yet not. Deep down, I guess I knew this was his motive and his feelings on where we should end up. I’m just not so sure anymore.

The words I said in anger still ring true, and my heart tells me that a bond should be stronger than his father’s command. I can’t shift that disappointment in him because I feel like he was too quick to give me up.