He gazed at me until I couldn’t see him anymore. And that’s when I knew that nothing would ever be the same anymore.
Chapter 35
Isabella
“New pack, new you, huh?” Ryker asked from the doorway to my room in the Lycan’s packhouse. He stared at my freshly cut and highlighted hair that sat in loose curls at my shoulders.
A smile twitched on my lips—the first smile in nearly two-weeks since I left—and I glanced at him through the mirror. Moonflowers twinkled in the corner of my room, near the window. “You can complain about it all you want, Mr. Ryker, but I like it.”
I wanted him to respond with a sly comment, something that Roman would say, something to remind me of him. But instead, he walked over to me, tugged on one of my curls, and said, “I like it.”
“You like it?” I asked, my finger brushing against my mate’s necklace. The metal was cool—cold even.
He gazed down at the pendant, then looked back at me and nodded his head. “It fits you, Bella.”
I playfully pushed past him and walked into the living room. Though I had barely smiled these past two weeks, I liked this new me. I liked being able to train and to protect others. I liked being able to do what I loved, and I liked having a pack that supported me. I liked everyone here.
But I missed him.
It had been an agonizing two weeks without relaxing into his scent or in his arms or even in the thought of him. Mom was wrong about Roman. He wasn’t going to come around anytime soon.
“We’re going to be late for practice,” I said.
“Practice doesn’t start for another half-hour.” He followed me into the living room and sat across from me on the couch, resting his forearms on his thighs and letting his biceps ripple. “Now, do you have anything you want to tell me?”
“No.”
He raised a single sharp brow. “Not even about the mate’s necklace around your neck?”
I fingered the necklace again, heart racing. He had seen it plenty of times since I had been here, and he let it slide. I knew he would ask about it sooner or later.
“Is it someone in the Lycans?”
“No.”
He raised his brows, amused. “You and Raj seem to get along quite nicely.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Raj’s attractive, but he’s not my type.”
“Who?”
“Why do you want to know?”
He paused for a moment; his lips pursed together. “Because you have a necklace but aren’t marked.”
Of course. I must’ve been the only werewolf ever who had a mate’s necklace but wasn’t marked. One without the other was the first sign of rejection. I sighed, rested my head against the couch, and closed my eyes.
A part of me still didn’t blame him for not marking me, and I hated it. My wolf wanted him more than anything she had ever wanted. These past two weeks she refused to push herself hard in training. She was hurt that Roman didn’t want us for who we truly were:warriors.
I gripped the edge of the couch, trying to hold back the tears. She felt rejected. I felt rejected. And, now, I wasn’t only adjusting to a new life with a new pack, but I was adjusting to a life without him.
The threat of roguesandthe threat of going into heat weighed heavily on my shoulders. It was so stupid for me to cry in front of Ryker—my leader. But I gazed right at him with tears in my eyes. “Roman is my mate.”
“Roman?” he asked, almost in disbelief.
Before I could shed a tear, I wiped the corner of my eye with my finger. “Yes.”
He ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed his face with his hands. “Let me guess, he was too angry to mark you.”
