Chapter 32

(Isabella’s POV)

I’ve never seen one werewolf try to escape a situation so fast. The way he flew out of his study, one would think the pack was under a rogue attack. I can only assume he finds me repulsive.

I stand there in my flimsy dress, in bright red lipstick, no less in hooker heels and he looked through me like I was not really there. I feel cheap.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach as a tension headache sets in and pounds through my ears and down my spine.

I help myself to the bar, pour myself a whiskey and down it in record time. Followed by another and then another.

“Slow down,” my wolf says sternly. “You are an Alpha, Isabella Costa. Act like it.”

“I’m not drunk, nor am I getting drunk. I’m just trying to wash the bitterness down my throat.”

“He left so fast to avoid reacting to his attraction to you, Bella,” my wolf says. “He’s our second chance mate, and like you, he’s fighting it.”

I see my reflection in the mirror before leaving Santiago’s study. “Yeah, clearly, I wasn’t fighting it,” I tell her.

“I promise you; he’s our second chance. I can feel it. But, because of his experiences, he’s suppressing it, Bella.”

I sigh “Sure, ok.”

I text Ariana,

Hey, are you up? If so, meet me in the kitchen?

I raid the kitchen freezer, pull out a pint of Rocky Road and a spoon. I’m about a quarter of the way through when Ariana walks in.

She eyes the ice cream and follows suit, pulls out the Cherry Garcia. We tap the cartons together

“Cheers,” we say.

“Okay, tell me what happened,” Ariana says with concern etched in the lines of her face.

I gesture down my body, my cheeks blushing as I speak. “Well, you know, Santiago’s disgusted by me.”

Ariana’s eyes scan my face and skim down my body. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“He stared at me then fled like he was evading arrest.”

Ariana nearly spits out her Cherry Garcia laughing until she snorts. “No, he didn’t.”

“Yeah, he did…seriously. He couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“Isabella, have you considered that the opposite may be true here? From what I understand, a mate bond is responsible for his own mother’s death, and then look what happened with his first mate. Layla cheated. You know firsthand the pain there. I don’t know…I think he is trying to ignore his attraction.”

I nod.

“I said the same thing and got a ‘sure, okay,” my wolf growls.

“Shh,” I say back.

We finish our ice cream and leave the kitchen. Ariana has been staying in a guest house just off the west entrance to the courtyard. I decide I want to be outside for a while, so I walk her back.

The air feels fresh and crisp against my exposed skin. I calm myself by taking deep, targeted breaths. The harvest orange glow of moon beams luminates a cobblestone pathway that I follow back to the packhouse and then up to my room.

Sleep is restless. Half the bed feels cold. I feel myself tossing and turning in discomfort as beads of sweat build up until my clothes and blanket are dampened. The sensation contrasts with the cold, unused side of my bed. Visions in my mind are a far cry from jovial. Tonight, it’s nightmares then.

Layla, dressed in black lace lingerie, opens her hotel room door, letting Jesse in. I see myself sitting straight up on the couch in our pack sitting room. My feet are flat on the ground. I scrunch my toes over the fibers of the carpet, hoping to ground myself.

My hands sit in my lap, tugging my wedding ring up and down on my finger. I turn it in small circles. The mate bond is merciless. I know when they remove each other’s clothes.

When he holds her against him…flesh to flesh it's as though a silver-bladed dagger stabs through my sternum. My mouth goes dry when his tongue slides into hers. The dagger turns the moment he’s inside her.

I jolt awake, throw the soaked sheets off my body and thank the Moon Goddess that I didn’t scream to call attention to myself.

Tomorrow will be better. It’ll be okay. I’ll apologize at breakfast for my little test of interest. I’ll back off, I think to myself. I don’t need an emotional connection.

Clearly, I’m nowhere near ready for a physical one.

I get up early and go for a walk. My hope is that this will calm my nerves. I run into Levi who looks like well…shit.

He clearly was woken up to go aid Santiago with something. His hair is all disheveled and his face stubble suggests he needs a shave, not to mention the wrinkled, tattered flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt.

“Nice bunny slippers,” I say as we cross paths.

“Good morning, Alpha…and thanks.”

“You look like you’ve been sent on a mission, will you have time to change out of those slippers first,” I say with a chuckle and raised eyebrow.

“Definitely. Alpha Santiago needs some reports run. I’m heading for proper work attire via the coffee pot, though.”

I nod slowly, my mind drifting off to what Santiago is up to this early. “Anything, I can help you with?”

“You’re too kind, Alpha Isabella, but no, it’s a one-man job.”

“Very well, Levi…when it's just the two of us, please just call me Isabella.”

He smiles, “As you wish.”

I go to breakfast and wait for Santiago, but he never shows up. I guess he’s back to ignoring me.

I decide to get cleaned up and go into town. I opt to leave my hair down and curly, toss on a gray t-shirt, and tuck it in partially in the front of skinny jeans that I pair with white running shoes.

I pop into a café at lunchtime, only to lose my appetite completely.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I swear, it stops beating for a moment when I discover that Santiago has taken Layla out.

I’ve never been jealous of her before. What is this feeling in my chest and stomach? She’s not wearing makeup which suits her.

She is actually quite beautiful with her fair skin and golden-honey-hued blond hair that effortlessly frames her face. It falls just below her chin and highlights her green eyes. Pregnancy seems to have given her a sun-kissed glow.

She wears a cotton white babydoll long-sleeve style dress with leggings and ankle boots.

He has been swamped with pack business, far too busy to hang out with me, but there he sits having what looks like a romantic dinner for two.

“Breathe, Bella. This must be some sort of misunderstanding,” my wolf insists.

“The misunderstanding is mine. He rejected me, only to turn around and go out with Layla.”

My heart and soul physically ache in a way that reminds me of Jesse’s infidelity through our mate bond. This is crazy. Why does seeing him with her cause my heart to thump so erratically with a tightness in my throat I can’t relieve? Why is there this hollow pit forming in my stomach, churning with nausea? He’s not my mate, so why does this pain feel so familiar? If Jesse left my heart with scars, Santiago has reopened them. It feels as though they might actually be bleeding. It doesn’t make a bit of sense.

Tears sting in the corner of my eyes. Moon Goddess, he’s gorgeous. He’s wearing a charcoal-gray blazer over a dark blue button-down shirt, the same one I remember borrowing not long before we met. The blazer is left open, while the shirt is unbuttoned at the collar. He has the sleeves rolled up to his forearm, showing off his tattoos.

I enter and walk right by them, make my way to the bar without looking their way, and order myself a hamburger and a beer.

Suddenly, I feel the icy blue stare of a Greek god.