His eyes were hard. “Your performance this week was disappointing.”
“That’s bullshit!” I slammed my hand down on his desk. He was lying. Every word that came out of his mouth was a lie. It had to be. It couldn’t be true.
My wolf hurt.
There was no regret in his eyes, no ounce of sorrow. This wasn’t a mistake. This was his decision. This was what he thought was best.
“I’m the best you have, Roman. The best. Do you think little Vanessa could fight against anyone stronger than a pup? She can’t do shit!”
He stood up, looming over me. “So, that’s what this is about.”
I slammed my palm onto his desk again, stepping closer to him. “No! This isn’t what this is about.”
Did he really think this was about Vanessa? About the way she always flirted with him when I was around and tried to get under my skin, the way my wolf always reacted so viciously to her? No, this wasn’t about her.
“I came to practice every single day giving it everything I had which far exceeded anything you could’ve thrown at me. I’ve been working for this position since I was four, Roman! And you’re just going to take it away from me, telling me that my performance was worse than Vanessa’s?”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m giving you one chance to stop disrespecting my decisions. The next time you raise your voice—”
I growled. “You’ll do what, Roman? You’ll punish me?” I shook my head and walked around the room, unable to even look him in the eye anymore. Though he was typically neat, Roman’s office was a complete mess—papers thrown everywhere, the paint on the walls chipped, desk drawers open. “I’m done with this little game that we’ve been playing. I don’t give a fuck about you or your stupid punishments.”
Lie.
I shook my head and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. The sound echoed throughout the house. Everyone probably heard it, but I didn’t care. I pushed past Derek, past Cayden, past Vanessa, promising myself that no tears would fall from my eyes.
None. I would shed none for this.
Punishing me in bed… that was one thing. This punishment was the worst kind, and I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me how he did last night again. Vulnerable, happy, intimate. If he thought I was just another one of the pack whores he could fuck around with and not give a single ounce of respect to, then I didn’t want to see him again. I didn’t care.
Except I did.
My wolf hurt so fucking bad. Why didn’t he want us as a warrior? Why didn’t he wantus? I didn’t know which part of me hurt the worst—my pride, my wolf responding to my alpha’s rejection, or me who kind of thought he may have liked me and my wolf.
As soon as I stepped out of that packhouse, I shredded my clothes and transformed into my wolf, sprinting into the woods. I needed to breathe, to reconnect with my inner self and make sure she was okay.
The wind whipped through my fur, and rain started drizzling through the trees and hitting my face. The water that ran down my cheeks was just rain, not tears. Definitely not tears.
That man didn’t even respect me enough to let me train as a goddamn doctor. He wanted me to be a nurse. A nurse.
Thunder rumbled above me, lightning striking the ground a few hundred feet away. I hated him for it.
There was nothing wrong with being a nurse; Dad was a nurse. But I didn’t want his job. I wanted more, more hands on, more blood, more violence, more. Just more.
Wet branches scraped into my fur, cutting into my side. I jumped over branches and under leaves and around trees, pushing myself to my limits. My wolf let out a howl, her nose lifting to the darkening sky. Running was a sweet release for her.
Not for me.
Nothing would ruin my mood, my ass. This day turned for the worse, and I didn’t think I’d get over it for years. I had prepared for this day. Practiced the fighting moves and beat them into my muscles’ memory with Derek every night. Listened to Mr. Beck’s stupid stories of the wars from years ago. Thought about Luna Raya’s death every night to motivate me to protect.
Did Roman really think I wouldn’t fit well on the team? Was he just lying to hurt me? Why would he lie? Why did he want to hurt me?
I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t know if I wanted to. Was this all just a game to him? Make me catch feelings, then break me to pieces? Because if it was, he won. He won it all.
After hours of nonstop running, I went home, feeling both ashamed that I hadn’t been assigned to the warriors and embarrassed at how childish I reacted in the packhouse. I shouldn’t have let him see me so upset; I was stronger than that.
Derek was sitting outside, head against the side of the house, dozing off to sleep. My keychain was between his fingers. I must’ve dropped it. He opened his eyes, jumped up, and wiped his sleep away. “Isabella!” he said, throwing me a pair of spare clothes that he had in his gym bag.
I tugged them on, trying to hide my tears from him, but he saw right through me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest.
