Chapter 30

Soren

A jealous feeling tinges the back of my mind. Watching Celia give Ethan a hug makes my blood boil. Seeing her touch someone else so casually — someone other than me — makes me want to start a war with any one of the Werewolves’ enemies.

Could I possibly care for Celia more than I realized? Even when Bianca hugs another Werewolve noble, a game of hers that I know all too well, I do not feel a single thing.

Not an ounce of hatred or annoyance or anger. If anything, all I can feel towards Bianca’s desperate attempts is a sense of neutrality — no — one of disinterest.

The image of Celia with another man does not sit right with me. Even as I came here to scold her about the way she treated Bianca at the hospital, I cannot help but feel as if I need to steal her from the world, to take her away from prying eyes. To take her to a place where she is mine and mine alone.

Celia walks towards me with a scowl on her face. The closer she gets to me, the more and more my heartbeat becomes erratic. The large organ thumps inside my ribcage, pushing against the bones and muscles inside my chest.

She stops across the street, not daring to cross the road to get to me. I scoff and roll my eyes at her. With one eyebrow raised up, she crosses her arms over her chest. She nods her head to the spot beside her and leans against the brick wall that wraps around the beautifully decorated park.

We stand like this for what seems like ages. Neither one of us dares to move. Celia stands by her brick wall and I remain glued to the hood of my car.

The street is as busy as ever with cars zooming past without a care in the world. I watch, jaw clenching before relaxing. I turn to look back at Celia. She rolls her eyes and pushes off of the brick wall.

This is it! She will be the one to break the distance between us. Maybe she does still care and love for me after all!

My heart plummets into my stomach. Celia turns her back to me, rewrapping her purse around her body. Disappointment crashes into my mind, my mouth going dry.

Has her love for me been fake this whole time? Even now as we stand across from each other she still dares to defy me.

Maybe I was right all along. Maybe Celia was only with me for the money.

“Celia!” I call out over the sound of traffic. She stops walking.

After five years together, I like to think that I have picked up on a few of her mannerisms. I know that whenever she has a lot on her mind, her shoulders push up, hiding her neck. She looks that way now, tense and coiled up, ready to spring and break at any moment.

The woman turns around and looks at me. She nears the sidewalk on the other side of the streets. Her lips are pushed to one side of her face.

What is going on behind those eyes of yours? What is your brain telling you to do?

And why do I care so much about what she thinks?

“What?” Celia asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We need to talk,” I raise my voice loud enough for it to carry across the street.

“I know,” she yells back, a car honking as it drives by, “that’s what I’m afraid of.”

I sigh, her response leaving me feeling less than satisfied. Why would she be afraid of talking to me?

Oh, right, because every single time it happens, she ends up in tears after we scream at each other. We always dish out low blows and say things that neither of us wish to say…just like me regretting my choice to make her leave the pack.

It has to be done, though. The two of us know that it is for the best, especially since I will be taking Bianca as my wife. It is a bitter truth that we must come to accept.

Celia begins to cross the street. With every step she takes, I can feel my walls slowly rebuild, towering high and piercing the tall skies. I do not wish to be this way, to have to protect myself against her, but my emotions have been so erratic since she’s left, leaving me feeling so unstable and out of balance.

“Soren, there is something that I need to tell you,” Celia says to me as soon as she’s close enough.

“Me first,” I hold up a hand, immediately silencing her. She sighs and nods, looking towards my car. “Get inside.”

Celia nods and obeys my command, circling around the car. She gets inside and I follow suit, instinctually grabbing the steering wheel of the car.

An uncomfortable silence fills the car’s atmosphere. Neither of us look at each other. We look outside as people pass by, opting for the comfort that they can bring instead of each other. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“I need you to stop being rude to Bianca at work, Celia,” I break the silence. She sharply inhales but remains quiet. “You will be gone soon, but be mindful these next couple of days.”

“Okay.”

Celia’s one worded anger warms my blood. I turn to look at her as my annoyance overtakes my emotions. She does not even look at me as I speak. It’s disrespectful, especially when I am her Alpha King.

“Do you love me?” I ask.

“What?” Celia’s laugh is filled with surprise. She finally turns to look at me.

“You said you loved me. Has it been fake this entire time?” I push further. Before she can respond, I add on to my question, “If you loved me, how could you have moved on so fast?”

“That’s not fair, Soren, and you know it,” Celia scoffs. My anger only rises from her evasive answer.

“Do you love me, Celia?” I firmly ask again. She falls silent. After a few moments, though, she finally responds.

“No. I do not love you.”

It is like I have been stabbed in the chest hundred of times. I nod and swallow the bitter taste that spreads across my tongue. Before I know it, my anger soars to new heights.

“Was money the only thing you wanted from me? It’s what you used me for, right?” I cannot stop my anger, unable to prohibit my hatred filled words from escaping my mouth. “If it’s money you want, then you can have it!”

“Soren, what are you talking about?” Celia looks at me and shakes her head, still in shock by my sudden anger.

I reach into the side pocket of my car and fumble around. I grab my wallet and open it up, snatching the thick stack of money that rests inside.

One by one, the thin paper bills cascading through the air and into her lap. Humiliation spreads across her face, her eyes welling with tears. I can’t stop, though, and continue to throw the money at her. The bills pool in her lap. Once I run out of bills, I turn away and stare in front of me.

“Get out.”

“Soren…”

“Get out, Celia!” I yell at her.

The woman remains still in the seat next to me. As predicted, our meetings end with one of us yelling and digging the imaginary knife deeper into the other person’s chest.

I can hear a faint sniffle and the scuffle of her picking up the bills. I roll my eyes, scoffing.

Of course, she’s collecting the money. I was right all along. Celia is nothing more than a gold digging woman. How shallow can this woman be?

“Soren…I have something to tell you,” she quietly says from the side.

“I don’t want to hear it. Just leave,” I immediately retort, my words sharper than usual.

Celia places the stack of cash back into my lap. I look down at it, my heart coming to a slow as the symbol of my anger is returned back to me. I look at Celia with widened eyes, unsure as to what her motive is.

“Soren…I can heal you,” she says. The world all around me falls silent from her revelation.