ALL OF MY PEACHES ARE RUINED || nate & cassie | euphoria abo

c h a p t e r e i g h t

chapter eight: A WAY TO SAY

I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I've laid like that. In a room that looked just like mine but lacked any soul. In a bed that seemed just as comfortable as my own but was different just enough to make me feel uncomfortable – both physically and emotionally. I finally managed to get out of bed and decided to look around because crying, to my knowledge, was of no use whatsoever.

If I wanted to get back home, if I wanted to see my parents again, if I intended to appeal to the cruel Alpha's feelings – my Alpha's feelings – I had to play this game by his rules. I couldn't let myself submit to his will completely, no matter how much his tone affected me, no matter how strongly I wanted to do nothing more but satisfy him, please him – I had to fight back. Now, in broad daylight, he did seem cold and uncaring, and he did frighten me, but I had to use all my willpower not to let him see how much he actually scared me. I had to be stronger than that. So, if I wanted to achieve it, I couldn't spend the whole day crying in bed.

Yes, he was my mate now and I was his. Yes, he did become my first Alpha and he did seem very caring while we were having sex but once that was over it was evident his true colors were completely different – dark, cold, and indifferent. But there's nothing I can do about it now. I cannot change it. I cannot undo his bite marks on my mating gland – they will stay there forever, until the day I die and even after that. If any of the two of us did so much as try to cancel this mating bond, we could die. If one of us died, the other one would be doomed to suffer terribly and that wasn't the destiny I'd wish even upon my worst enemy. And Jacobs wasn't my enemy even though it was clear he was not my friend either. He might've said he mated me because he just wanted me so badly, but I knew there must be something else underneath this façade.

I slowly went out of bed and walked around the room. Apparently, not all things were exactly like in my room at my parents' home, only the furniture, the walls, and some of the accessories, like the light beige blanket on the bad. There were a few more basic accessories, like a white desk lamp, disgustingly average paintings on the walls, and some extra pillows that were different from what I had at home, and overall, there was a lot less stuff here than I was used to as if this room was still not finished, not put together. The closet which was identical to the one at home was full of clothes I saw for the first time in my life. They seemed expensive and of good quality, but colorful and whacky and very girly, just as I liked my clothes. This made me angry. I should hate these clothes; he should not know what I like. Was he following me? Was he watching me, stalking me? Of course, he was. He admitted he was in my room a few times. He must've followed me around everywhere. I wasn't safe anywhere and I had no idea. But for how long was he stalking me? Long enough for him to build this room in his house for me. I furiously closed the closet door shut.

I went on to the bathroom. There was a new addiction here that my authentic bathroom did not have – a bathtub. It was my dream to have a tub one day, but I never imagined this dream would come true this way. It must be a cruel joke.