Chapter 4 continued

"No. I'm fine." I muttered, pressing my lips together to keep myself from blurting out something I would surely regret, just like how I did at that stupid party.

Danny's expression was one of knowing and understanding, and for some reason it pissed me off even more.

He doesn't understand me.

No one understands me and no one ever will.

"Well, let me know if you ever want to talk." He replied before returning his gaze to his husband. "and as for you... if you really want to take me to bed then come on and make me." 

I watched in horror as Danny lifted the pickle to his mouth and stuck out his tongue, licking the thing slowly from top to bottom while staring straight at his husband. Rayson visibly stiffened and his eyes darkened before quickly grabbing his small husband around the waist.

"Bye." the larger man muttered before growling and charging out of the kitchen, Danny's giggles growing fainter as Rayson bolted down the hall and up the stairs. 

The pain in my chest flared and I quickly chugged down the glass of water, feeling the cold liquid wash down my throat and settle the sharp pain to some extent. 

"Fuck." I whispered, filling up the glass of water again to take upstairs with me. I rubbed my chest where the dull pain remained while I padded back upstairs. On the way back up, I couldn't help but notice a trail of flowers that left a path of the Fae's movement from the living room, leading to the wing of the house that held Tyrus' room. 

I pushed my door open when I got back to my room, happy to be away from the commotion that was ever-present in the pack house, but once I looked up, I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath got caught in my throat and I thought - for sure - I was going to throw up.

Corey's sweaty, incredibly muscular back faced me as he picked something up from the mess of clothes on my floor before turning around and facing me, his under-eyes dark with what I assumed was exhaustion. 

I was stuck in place, my brain frozen as I tried to figure out how to react. His face was just as stoic and indecipherable as it usually was and he stared holes straight into my face. His bare chest glistened with sweat, making me involuntarily tingle inside as I my brain reminded me how it felt to moan against the muscular contours of his sweaty body as he moved on top of me... 

Inside of me.

At that moment, I wanted to die. The pain in my chest flared to unbelievable heights and I felt so, utterly confused as my mind betrayed me and replayed the events of the mixer in my head like a broken tape, tormenting me and reminding me that I hurt him.

'I will never love another man like the faggot you are! You're an abomination to this entire fucking world!'

My throat closed up at the memory of my words, choking my words in my throat as I attempted to form them.

"I am not here to talk." 

My heart sank 6 feet deep at Corey's monotone words, still struggling to find my own as I stood frozen. My fingers squeezed the glass cup in my hand so hard I could feel how close it was to rupturing and cutting through my flesh. 

"...I left warrior training and realized I left my clothes. I am simply returning to retrieve them." With that he headed for my door, accidentally brushing my shoulder with his arm as his large body moved past, knocking me out of paralysis when sparks traveled down my arms and warmed me to my toes.

"Wait, I-..." Corey paused as I spoke quietly, turning and looking at me expectantly as my lips opened and closed like a fish on land, and words once again lodged themselves painfully in my throat. 

I hated how expressionless his face was as he stared at me, and it made it that much harder to try to choose what words to force words from my throat, which suddenly felt so dry and parched despite drinking an entire glass of water only minutes before.

A few moments of torturous silence passed as I tried to will my body to do something, say something to him. But of course, my body still didn't listen.

"Hm." Corey lightly shook his head and turned on his heel before I could force my body to work, and all I could do was watch as the muscles of his back rippled as he walked down the hall to the wing that his room resided in. It wasn't until he was out of sight that I frowned, stepping back into my room and slamming my door behind me.

He's such an asshole! Serves him right!

I'm glad he heard what I said! 

I fumed as I set my cup down next to my bed. I deflated a little when I remembered how cold and empty it felt the last time I slept in it. 

"How could he just walk away like that?" I muttered, rubbing my chest because the pain had once again flared up again to an extremely painful level. With a frown, I walked to my closet, bending down and reaching far into the back to root around. After a few seconds, I found what I was looking for, dusting off the thick layer of dust that had formed before unfolding it. 

I hadn't used my weighted blanket since I was a child. Since after...

I shook my head to push away the memory and stood up, flicking off the lights before laying down in my bed and pulling the ten pound blanket over my shoulders. 

It was nothing close to what I wanted, what I craved. Nothing close to the warmth and feather light touch that he provided when we laid together, or the way he enclosed me in those muscular, tanned arms with scars that showed his dedication to protecting his pack as head warrior. 

This is fine. 

This will do. 

I don't need him. I won't apologize. I don't need a man as a mate. I don't want a man as a mate. 

I repeated those lines to myself as I curled up into myself under the heavy blanket, my chest burning with pain.

I don't need him.

I don't want him.

But once again, my body betrayed me as I touched my cheeks, only to find them wet with salty tears.