(Chapter song âBittersweet Symphonyâ by The Verve)
SAMMY I know there's something about him.
Thereâs something heâs doing that's scaring me. I know it. I just wish I knew what that was. I was fine. For the last 10 years, Iâve been fine. One week with Bastian around me and my worst nightmares are resurfacing. I canât go through this again. I canât be responsible for any more death.
I guess I should share a little bit. I donât like talking about this at all, butâ¦
Dylan. My sweet brother. The reason he doesnât look like me because Iâm adopted. My mother found me in an orphanage she volunteered at and took me home at 8. At 10, thatâs when my night terrors started. I donât know where they come from because most of my dreams arenât related to why I was an orphan in the first place.
At 5. My parents were killed in a wolf attack. I barely escaped with my life. I was found and taken to hospital then the orphanage. The wolf was never found.
My night terrors are a childâs imagination, but they affect me outwardly. Generally, itâs just me and my body that suffers, but when the sleepwalking began, people died.
At that moment, my parents took me to a hypnotherapist. It worked. The doctor put up a wall between me and my dreams. Now, it seems that wall has been broken in some way and I believe Bastian is the cause of it.
When he was close to me, he smelled like spices. Not just any spices. The kind that tickle your nose for a second, but then start to smell good.
I felt a little uncomfortable with him being next to me like that. After the week we had, I wasnât expecting him to care about my well-being. But the last thing I want to do is share this with him. Thereâs only four people that know and I want to keep it that way. He doesnât need to know what goes on in my personal life just like I donât care what goes on in his.
Judging from the woman in the doorway, he has his own problems. She didnât look nice at all. In fact, she looks like a female version of Bastian with her perfect salon hair, manicured nails and designer blouse with high end skirt. She looks like Bastianâs type. Rich and snobby.
Bastian was acting weird though. I could see in his eye that he was confused about something. When he interrogated me about perfume, I almost felt like laughing. I understand why a policy like that would exist, but to accuse me of filling the house, give me a break. Especially, when I told him Iâm not wearing any. He, then, dared to call me a liar. I couldnât believe his audacity.
I was still annoyed when I took the snaps of the project board I was working on for Bastianâs concept approval, then broke for lunch.
I walk into the dining hall and get in line to order. I open my phone and send my pictures to the developers to print them for me. I sent a message off to Dylan to check in. He ordered me to text him regularly to make sure nothingâs happening. I told him to relax and that Iâll already have it blocked before things get that bad.
What happened last night was just the start. It can get progressively worse to the point where I kind of lose sight of myself and hurt myself in public. Thereâs only two options if that happens. An ice cold shower or I get put down. Most times, option one works.
I'll need to see my doctor as soon as possible.
As I wait for Dylan's response, I glance around the decorated tables. Itâs pretty full, but thereâs still some empty tables left and I proceeded to decide which one until I see Bastian with that blonde woman, eating and talking. I look back to my phone. I think Iâm eating in the common room.
As I step forward and type, I feel a heat on my back. I cinch my brow and look over my shoulder. I have to lean back because Bastianâs head was right next to my head. I give him a questioning look.
âI recommend the steak.â He says then stands straight.
I hold my phone to my chest and turn. âWere you reading over my shoulder?â
âNo.â He chuckles. âI just got here.â
I second glance him and turn back. âGood because you should know that's rude.â
âWhatâs rude is not allowing people to take an interest in you.â He holds his nose up.
âWhat?â I spin around and look at him like heâs crazy.
âSeriously, thereâs a certain rudeness felt when people want to talk to you and they get attitude back.â He looks down on me.
I place a hand on my hip. âWhat makes you think I want to talk you?â
He points to my nose. âLike that.â
I shake my head then glare.
He smiles. âEveryone wants to talk to me. Except you for some reason. My only conclusion isâ¦youâre just rude and unapproachable.â
I cross my arms. âAnd you arenât?â I raise a brow and tick my head.
âIâm direct. Most people mistake it for being rude. Most people canât handle direct people. Especially, if they tell the truth.â He chews his lip and I shake my head.
âYouâre unbelievable.â I spin around and step to get my food.
He leans to my ear. âYou have no idea how unbelievable I am.â
I huff and turn with my plate. âTrust me, Alpha Cole. You arenât that special.â
He reaches to my plate and takes a baby carrot. âI am. And you know it. Thatâs why I scare you so much.â
âHow did you come to that conclusion?!â I look around the room and back up at him.
He leans close to my face and I have to pull back. âI can smell it. You're scared because youâve never been in the same room with a man of my caliber. Admit it.â He bounces his brow then bounces his brow.
âI will not admit anything. Lest you forget, Alpha, the only thing youâve shown so far is how loud and awful you can be.â I scowl and leave the line.
He is too much. I swear this man is soâ¦justâ¦Argh!
I stomp through the common room and decided to keep right on going. I went straight to the ballroom. I sit down at the table, grumbled while I pulled my fork and knife out of the napkin and cut my steak with irritation. I put it in my mouth and chew. I hate that this is good.
âI'm sorry.â
I slow my chewing and stare out into the ballroom. I chew a bite more and swallow. âFor what?â I cut another piece and pop it in my mouth.
âFor what I said the other day. I⦠just wantedâ¦â
âI donât care, Bastian.â I mumble and continue to eat.
I feel him come up behind me and he leans his elbows on the table beside me. âIâm trying to apologize. I shouldnât have said you didnât deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. Itâ¦was a nasty comment. I'm sorry.â
I side eye him as I swallow. âIt was.â
He laces his fingers together and looks at the table. âI justâ¦I'm not used to hearingâ¦â
âI already apologized. I wonât grovel to you.â I put a piece in my mouth.
âYou donât have to. Look. Thereâs no reason to be angry with me.â
I toll my eyes and stand. âThereâs plenty of reasons, Bastian.â I walk over to my crate filled with fabrics. I snatch one and pull it out. I carry it over to the window and hold it up.
âLike what?â He holds his hands out as he walks to me.
I drop the fabric to my thighs and turn to him. âThese mood swings for one. Youâre nice. Then mean and condescending. Then nice again. Itâs extremely irritating.â I scowl.
He ticks his head as he come closer. âI have that type of personality.â
âYeahâ¦wellâ¦it sucks and not something I need or want.â I fold the fabric up and toss it to the crate.
He steps even closer and I start to get a little heated from him approaching me.
He locks with my eyes. âI think you do need some of it.â
I laugh and cross my arms. âI just saidâ¦â
âI know what you said, but thereâs something you didnât do.â He closes the gap.
My lips shrink. âWhat?â
He looks me over and the heat between us feels like itâs rising. My heart stutters.
He tilts his head. âQuit.â
âI need this.â I whisper.
âI know. Thatâs why I want to give it to you.â He says quietly as he leans closer.
âWhat do you mean?â
He reaches up and touches my cheek and I almost jump from a little spark that hit my skin. I almost get lost in his eyes and his scent. His overwhelming size seems to consume me. He was sucking me in.
Then he spoke.
âIt meansâ¦if you wanted to quitâ¦I wouldnât let you.â He smiles.
âUGGHH!â I throw up my hands and push past him back to my plate.
âWhat?! What did I say?!â
I clean up my spot. âYou donât âletâ me do anything, Bastian. If I wanted to quit, you couldnât stop me and the fact you most likely think you can force me to work for you is why you should just go do whatever it is an Alpha does and let me work in peace.â
âSam, I wasnât implyingâ¦â He scrunches his brow then follows me out of the ballroom.
âYou were. I saw it in your face. You think Iâm easy to control. Well, Iâve got news for you. Iâm not.â I drop my plate off and leave the dining hall. Of course, he's still following me like a lost dog.
âSammyâ¦just listen.â
âNo, Bastian. I think the last thing I need is to hear any more of what you have to say. Iâve already crossed some major client lines with you and I just want to do my job.â I walk into the ballroom and feel myself get even hotter.
âSAM!â
I turn around and throw my arms up. âWhat?!â
Like a lightning bolt struck, he grabs my head and his lips meet mine. His tongue asks for entrance and my lips part. Oh my Godâ¦is thatâ¦music? As his tongue glides with mine as we stand in the middle of the ballroom floor. Fireworks go off in my head and everything I had been feeling over the last few days disappeared.
I hold his arms and whimper as a symphony plays in my mind. My heart races and the heat skyrocketed. His taste is more delicious than I could ever expect. His scent was masculine and strong and his touch was soft and gentle.
He pulls back slowly and sucks on my bottom lip. I fell backwards onto my table edge as my eyes flutter open.
He looks me over and runs the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. âThanks for listening.â He locks with my gaze for a second more, lets go of my head and leaves the ballroom with his hands in his black dress pants pockets.
I lean a hand on the table and raise my other hand to my lips.
I stare at the door as I start to pant. âCrap.â