"Do you think you could love him?" She asks me, hopeful.
"If he was made for me don't you think he would be better to me, treat me like an equal? Don't you think that he would be nicer, simply just appreciate that I'm here? That he would try and mak...
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I awake with a cough, Feeling like I had been out for a lifetime.
I moan at the pain in my neck, sitting up and opening my eyes I noticed it was morning, or at least lunchtime.
I get out of the familiar bed, luckily Odysseus wasn't here, I don't remember what happened. Walking to the bathroom I open the door and stare at my reflection. I move my hair and look at my two puncture wounds that were healing over. A mark.
Odysseus' mark.
That bastard. He actually claimed me without my permission.
"It was for your own good," Odysseus voice floods echos through the bathroom, I look behind me in the mirror and see Odysseus staring back at me.
I turn around and give him the stink eye.
"How was marking me without my permission good? What good has come out of that?" I spit out at him, stupid lying bastard.
"It means I can take care you, I can hear your thoughts and you can hear mine. I can talk to you without talking to you and I can know where you are, and every male and female knows who you belong to," he says to me, a small smile playing on his lips. He was happy with himself.
"How is any of that good? You're controlling me," I growl at him, getting closer to him. I was sick of his bullshit and games.
"I'm not controlling you, baby." He says to me, the nickname causing desire to pool between my legs.
"I'm simply taking care of you," he says to me with a smile.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, you bastard," I spit at him before barging past him, making sure to hit my shoulder into his on the way out.
"What do you expect me to do, Tatum? You weren't going to accept me," he says now turned around facing me a heated glare on his face.
"Exactly! I wanted you to realise I was never going to accept you and that I don't want to be your mate!" I say to him as a matter of fact. What they said was true. Wolves clearly couldn't handle rejection.
"You don't mean that," he says causing me to look at him, he was fuming.
"I do," I say to piss him off further as I walked into the walk-in-wardrobe. It wasn't like he could do anything worse to me.
I hear a bang and look back at where he was standing, only to notice where he had stood just a second ago was bare. I didn't even know he had left, it had happened so quickly.
Of course he was mad, he couldn't handle the truth. He couldn't handle the fact that I didn't want him. I feel a wave of satisfaction flow over me at the fact that I had set him off.
I pick out some of Odysseus' clothes and go to the bathroom to get changed. I look back at my reflection and notice how bad I look, with all the dirt I had failed to notice, all the scratches on my face and not to mention that huge red mark resting on my neck.
