“Scarlett, stop being so unreasonable.” His chest heaved up and down, and I could feel his grip tightening on me. It hurt, but then the cold numbed my pain.
I let out a bitter laugh, and he frowned at me.
“Let’s find some place to talk first.” He muttered as he dragged me toward the small gazebo near her.
“Why are you so pale?” He tried to reach for my face, but I turned away. His outstretched hand turned to a fist, and a flicker of rage crossed his countenance.
“You don’t need to care, Ryan. I am going to die soon, anyway.” I said nonchalantly.
He clutched my face roughly and forced me to look at him. “Scarlett, why are you like this? Don’t curse yourself like that because you are angry.”
The way he uttered that was really hilarious. But I didn’t like it that he was pretending to care about me when he actually didn’t. Was he doing it out of pity? Or maybe it was just his conscience. He could tell himself that he had done his best to take care of me.
So that after he discarded me, he wouldn’t feel guilty. The condition of my body was deteriorating, but he didn’t seem to care at all.
I heard that some werewolves got lucky that they found a second chance mate after their first one died. This might be the case for Ryan. Perhaps Violett was his second chance mate.
Our mate bond was weakening because I and my wolf's spirit were dying and it made their bond become stronger instead? My brain made up a scenario I couldn’t get out of my mind.
“You don’t believe it?” I tilted my head, then snorted. “You don’t need to believe it, anyway.”
When he was surprised, I pulled my hands out of his grip. The warmth that he provided was instantly gone, replaced by extreme coldness. However, I wouldn’t protest. This was better than his words of sweet nothings that were now woven in a tapestry of lies.
I stood up and turned around, ready to go through the rain, anywhere away from this man.
“Scarlett, enough of it.” He pulled me roughly, his arms snaked around me in an embrace.
I froze, and my mind instantly relieved that the scenario where Ryan’s body was tangled with Violet, their lips dangerously close until they were only less than an inch apart from touching each other.
My stomach churned, and I had the urge to throw up whatever contents inside. It was sickening; he was incredibly sickening. If I used to yearn for his touch, now I just couldn’t wait to get away from him.
He turned my body around and his face went closer to mine. When he was about to kiss me, I turned my face away. That action seemed to provoke him, that he froze and then clutched my face to look at him.
“Maybe I should remind you that we are mates. You seem to have forgotten.” His eyes were like an endless abyss, staring at me.
Oh, so according to him, I was the one who had forgotten that I have a mate? It was he who had forgotten, entangled in another female werewolf while I was still alive.
His face became closer again, and I could smell the familiar scent of Violet from him. I turned my head away again and pulled myself from his embrace.
I went to the edge of the gazebo and vomited all the contents inside my stomach. Ah, I also forgot the fact that I was pregnant. Suddenly, I felt incredibly sorry for this baby that would never be born.
“Is my touch that repulsive to you?” Ryan glared at me as I wiped my mouth. I didn’t eat anything last night; unexpectedly some blood was mixed between, and I had hurriedly wiped any traces of it before Ryan could see.
The rain washed it away. Ryan walked closer to me and then he sniffed.
My pupils constricted. After losing my heightened senses as a werewolf, I forgot that they could easily identify blood from its smell.
A flash of concern passed through his eyes, and it was quickly gone. “Are you feeling unwell?”
He reached his hands toward me, but I snarled at him and said persistently. “I said, don’t touch me.”
“But you are sick, Scarlett.” He insisted. “Let me take a look at you.”
I couldn’t stand his pretense anymore. Why bother pretending like he cares when he doesn’t? He didn’t even ask about Lupin after I was done burying him.
It was until I couldn’t control my hand, and a resounding slap echoed through the gazebo, muffled by the rain. He looked at me with a face full of disbelief and anger.
“You are dirty, so don’t touch me.” I glared at him. “It’s not because I am sick that I vomited, it’s because you are sickening me.”
“Fine. Don’t regret it.” He growled at me, then marched toward the rain. His figure was quickly gone from the sight, swallowed by the heavy rain.
I collapsed to the floor, vomiting again whatever was left inside my stomach, which was mostly blood.
