Rejected Mate and Following Fate

Chapter 14: A War is Coming

I sit quietly in the bedroom I was frog marched into some hours ago. The food tray some random Santo dumped in here for me untouched, as I've literally no appetite and I'm laid out 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 in it. Bored out of my mind, but since my explosion, nothing in the house is working. Nothing electronic, no lights at all, and they are working on rectifying it. I'm still not convinced I did this, but it all seems to point this way.

Apart from the boarded-up window and the now décor free shelves and such after they swept through, removing the carnage of smashed items, it's pretty nice. Gold and cream with brown leather and opulent fabrics. It's like a hotel boudoir in a five-star establishment and bigger than the entire lounge and kitchen at the rejects home.

The Santo's always were one of the wealthiest packs in Radstone, and it shows. Their pack house is a mansion with endless corridors 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.

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 can't say I feel any kind of remorse. I mean at first, I was in shock, kept questioning if I really did that, if I was capable, and now, I'm numb once more. Shunned to an unused part of their building, nothing changed there from being one of the black marks they left to rot on the darker side of the mountain. I'm exhausted, in need of sleep but completely blank to all other emotions.

A light tap on the door draws my attention from trying to count cracks that aren't there, and I know before they open it who it is. I can feel him. Felt him making his way down the hall towards me moments ago and I really don't want to see him, or anyone for that matter.

That intense excitement at his presence, that was there before, is waning with everything that's happened since. The bond isn't weakening, but my own emotions are overpowering everything else right now. 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.

"How are you holding up in here?' Colton's voice sways my way as he slides in, that sultry sexiness that does still manage to illicit tingles on my skin, closing the door behind him quickly, and I catch sight of him checking the hall before he does. It's obvious by his swift maneuver that he shouldn't be in here with me and is defying some rule, probably from his father, or maybe Carmen. Checking no one followed him to the empty side of their palace. I sigh, look back at the ceiling and ignore him. Annoyed that he is a part of all this and just another member of a pack that's outcast me for years.

"Still pissed, huh?" There's 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. Said all I needed to downstairs, and I don't know why he can't just leave me alone. He told me that's how it was going to be that day in the forest, and yet he's the one who keeps breaking his word and reaching out to me. He's pretty useless at staying away, and it doesn't help.

Every contact, every conversation, just makes us bond all the more, and feel like I really do know him. It doesn't 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.

"I don't blame you. What you said before…. It's true. I did make a choice, but you know why, Lorey. Don't hate me for that. Not that right now any of that holds significance with the new current events. The elders are in lockdown in the grand hall, I couldn't stand being in there anymore, I had to come make things right with you and to talk." I hate that he has a nice voice, unique, sensually melodic, and that it 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, don't react, open my eyes again and continue to stare at the shadowy and uninteresting cream painted wall. My body 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.

"Say something, please." 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 too lays out and slides an arm around my waist to turn me. I don't resist, but let him roll me onto my back, pulling my face to him until we are almost nose to nose, leaning over me, scooping down to bridge the gap. An intimacy he shouldn't be encouraging.

impossible to really make him out. I shiver involuntarily, at our close contact, instant goosebumps from his touch and his

lack luster and catch a slight hint of a cute boy smile from him, making him handsomer. Amused at me for giving him attitude, and it serve's the purpose of softening me a minuscule amount. I can't deny the way contact with him always calms me, brings

of hair that I couldn't even feel and leans down closer towards me so his breath fans my face, and for a moment, I wonder if he might

a brow as though expecting me to at least say something to that, but I blankly stare at him and give him nothing. My head busy with ludicrous thoughts and I try to empty my mind before

inches, but still pressed against the side of my full length, and still touching my face. "Two summers ago, before Carmen and I started dating. You were wearing a green dress, serving candy floss at the meadow festival. You served me, wouldn't 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." His voice is soft and husky, and I try hard to lock on his gaze as my memory dashes backwards, trying to pinpoint what he's remembering. It's vague, but I remember the festival and the way his whole pack spent the entire day lording

stubborn indignation in the mix because I know he's trying to get me to be a little less mad at him. It wouldn't be hard for him to now look backwards and see me when he has all of mine

a nice shade of mint green that brings out a golden color in my hair. My

heading my way, looking towards this person, of the head I'm inside and instantly put my nose down and go into full submission. You can almost taste the change in my disposition as I realize they're coming to my stall and I'm not happy about it. I pull his fingers away sharply, cutting the visual and seeing enough, not wanting to watch anymore of how feeble and unworthy I always was

I shrug and turn my face from him. Not wanting to revisit any memories

for my own liking. It annoys me how easily he finds this slide into touchy feely when he's the one who chose to sever our ties. He has a woman somewhere in this house, pining for him, and yet here he is

I roll away pushing his hand off me fully, hinting to give me space, and return to

I shirk him off. Not impressed with him trying to turn this around and roll my eyes. He's being a little too flippant

doom and our life from here on in, and not whatever this is. Reminiscing the 'good old days' and adding weight to why he will never rebuild trust with his chosen 'mate'. He's not exactly acting like he cares about doing it

every single memory each harbor, so it's pretty dumb telling me I wouldn't know something that he does. Or that I didn't remember him all these years. How could I forget the guy who walked around

chance to hit him with any kind of comeback, his hand comes at me from behind and he feels out my temple once more, projecting from the many hours of mental movies, a single one that shoots to the forefront in the blink of an eye and renders me mute. I inhale sharply as the visual of my mother comes to

and yet, I'm seeing it from the eyes of someone in the water. I'm a kid, maybe seven, maybe eight, but I recognize myself. I recognize her too, my breathtaking mom and that dazzling smile, those blue eyes that are missing

edge and lets me go, so I can play, go to swim. I run forward and splash into the water, no sign of hesitation. A brave little girl who thought she was capable of anything when sheltered in the shadow of her family. I clumsily gallop, splash in cannonball style and dive under as soon as I get waist deep, her calling encouragement from the edge as she watches me. I can't pull my mental sight from

where he looks, because this is his memory. He follows my progress as I swim across the lake and then he's pulled sideways, and I'm suddenly seeing water. Submerged in bubbles and blurry sight, hands in front, waving as I swim back to the surface, coughing and spluttering as another boy blocks my view. I recognize him as one of his closest Santo pack. A boy called Matteo, who's usually in Colton's shadow wherever he goes.

why you made me come here? I feel like she's wherever we go nowadays." He teases, pushing me back and all

he sounds now. The completely defensive edge, and embarrassment, hints that his friend is right, and I know from learning so much about him

him at speed, eyes wide and gawping, not really sure