Page 7 of Reclaiming His Lost Mate
Bile churned in my stomach, rising to my throat within seconds, and I grimaced at the bitter taste, not that it could compare to the pounding ache that seared through my chest.
“You don’t have to be so cold and dismissive about it,” I ground out, looking at the parcel in my hands rather than his face. “I only brought this to you on my father’s command, and the fact that you’ve chosen someone else over me doesn’t mean there should be so much hostility between us,” I found myself saying through the ache.
Alexis didn’t care that I was hurt. He replied in a clipped tone. “You should put that down and leave.”
A wave of anger washed over me as my teeth ground against themselves. My nostrils flared, and a burst of sarcastic laughter finally fell from my lips. Directing the emotions to my limbs, I shoved the basket into Alexis’s chest, telling myself that this was the last time I would grovel for his attention.
“I do not fault you, Alexis. I blame myself for being so weak that I’m unable to resist a mere physiological reaction like you,” I said, blinking away my tears as I threw his words back at him.
As his hands snapped forward to keep the basket from falling, his fingers connected with mine, and immediately, a flip switched in my head, turning all my anger to something else.
The thrill started from the point of contact, spreading over my skin like wildfire, devastating and consuming. Alexis froze, not pulling his long fingers from mine, and his once bright eyes began to darken, pupils blowing outward in dilation.
Words were on the tip of my mouth, but in half a second, a feral growl reverberated through the space between Alexis and me, and he snatched the basket, hurling it across the room to scatter its content all over the place with abandon. I inhaled a shocked gasp, taking a cautious step back, but Alexis’s left palm was on my right wrist instantly, dragging me inside the house and pressing my back against the wall as his solid bulk of muscles covered my slender frame. My heart hammered furiously. My temperature shot off the roof with his closeness, his heat, his breath on my face, and the hardness of his erection pressing against my core.
Alexis was roused.
His mouth opened, and I waited for his words, panting heavily, doused in arousal.
“I already rejected you and chose Marissa, a better pick, so stop throwing yourself at me because it’s honestly pathetic,” he bit out, his voice loaded and heavy with—was it lust…irritation…hate? I couldn’t place it as my heart bottomed out.
“Throwing myself? That is what this is to you?” I balked. “You are the one who put your hands on me, Alexis, and I am the one currentlypinned underneath you,” I said breathlessly, my heart still galloping like a racehorse.
The haze must have fallen from Alexis’s eyes because he blinked and yanked me to the door the same way he pulled me in, shoving me outside like trash. “This bond means nothing to me, so trust that I’ll find a way to rid myself of it as soon as possible. If I were you, I would stay. The. Heck. Away.” The emotions rolled off Alexis in waves, and I found myself believing his words. With that, he slammed the door in my face.
My throat was parched, my wrists still tingled from where he held onto me, but mostly, my heart was shattered. I couldn’t yet process what just happened, but I knew that I could not handle the steady rejection and embarrassment anymore, so I did exactly as Alexis had said.
I stayed away.
For the following days, I made sure to steer clear of any paths that he could likely cross, keeping my distance. I chose to remain in the confines of the pack’s treatment hut instead, numbing my mind with as much work as I could lay my hands on.
Sick and injured pack members in need of my mastery in herbal medicine flooded the treatment hut daily, keeping me busy and helping me take my mind off thoughts of Alexis. So, I decided to extend my closing time each day. I always returned to my cabin way past dark and fell asleep without much difficulty.
After a long day of mixing herbs and forming poultices, salves, and infusions to care for packmates who sought me out, I was ready to head out when the entrance door of the hut opened, signaling someone’s arrival.
“This late?” I muttered to myself in question, but a thought quickly formed.
I’d refused to admit it, but sometimes, when a new patient came in through the door, I held my breath, and a small part of me usually hoped that Alexis would walk in to surprise me, but that never happened. Turning around a little too quickly to see if my imagination manifested him this time, I was met with not only disappointment but a sense of foreboding at the visitor’s tall and lanky outlook.
Simon.
The urgent need to flee from his presence gripped me, but he had shut the door behind him, offering me a strained smile.
“I’m injured, Selina. That’s why I’m here. I’m not here to chase you. I just need your help,” he said, only taking two steps forward, and it was then that I noticed an apparent limp that he was nursing on his left leg.
Simon was…a suitor, to say the least, but not the kind that came to your father’s chambers with kills or retrievals from other packs that we treasured, asking for his permission to pursue you. No. Simon was the type that forced himself on someone as long as his sights were set on them and that someone had been me for a very long time, even though I’d told him off so many times.
Simon found a way to insert himself in my life from time to time, pestering me to give him a chance, but I always refused, and although I suspected this “injury” of his was being faked right now, I couldn’t turn a patient down.
Looking around the small hut cautiously, I let my gaze settle on Simon with a forced smile.
“You can have a seat and let me take a look,” I said, and Simon inched forward, taking a seat on the bed closest to him.
With his five steps to the bed, the discrepancy between his exaggerated limp and pain exhibition had already told me that he was definitely faking his limp, but I said nothing of it. It was better to let him have his moment so I could return to my cabin quickly. Keeping my gaze on him, I retrieved a salve I had made from the fresh Pomenta leaves earlier, and I approached Simon, swallowing down the nerves as he rolled up his pants to reveal only a blistered ankle.
“This will reduce the inflammation and help you heal faster.” I applied the salve, hoping to put an end to this farce immediately, but it seemed Simon had other plans.
“You’ve always been so delicate when it came to me, Selina,” Simon said, his tone dripping with something that made my skin crawl.
