Quackity
"I could just hit you right now," George muttered through clenched teeth, his brows furrowed in frustration. "You constantly give me reasons to worry, Alex. I swear."
It had been three days since we last spoke, and the weight of my absence was evident in every line of his face. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the worry that had clearly festered into something sharper—something dangerously close to anger. And I couldn't blame him. I had disappeared without a word, leaving him with many questions.
I kept my gaze down, unsure whether to play it off with a joke or offer a genuine apology. I had been so careless with his feelings, too absorbed in my own distractions, caught up with my mates, to even notice.
"Wrinkles don't suit that pretty forehead of yours, George," I teased, trying to diffuse the tension.
His eyes bore into me, searching my face as if he couldn't believe what I had just said. "Is that really all you have to say?" His voice was tight with disbelief, his annoyance clear.
"Absolutely. So lighten up, pretty boy," I replied, reaching up to squish his rounded cheeks. "Everything's okay. I'm not a kid, George. I can make my own choices. I don't need anyone making them for me."
Before I could blink, he shoved me away. "It's not that, Alex. You can't just—wait, is that really what you think?" His expression softened, confused, almost hurt.
Of course, I did! He was always trying to control me, treating me like some helpless child. I just stared at him, my own frustration bubbling up, but before I could respond, he let out a disbelieving chuckle, running a hand through his hair.
"How dare you just leave like that!" George's voice trembled, a mix of anger and worry. "No indication of where you were, no sign that you were okay. Alex, you'll pay for scaring me half to death!" His face flushed, eyes flashing with a potent mix of emotions. I could see a vein pulsing at his temple.
"Calm down, George, you're going to hurt yourself," came a voice from behind him—eerily calm and icy cold.
All the hairs on my neck stood on end. That voice was Dream, his wolf. I froze as his wolf's dark emerald eyes locked onto me, burning with a murderous intent that pinned me in place. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and I swallowed hard, unable to look away from those eyes.
"Are we going to have a problem?" Dream growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble that sent a wave of dread through me.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as Dream's gaze pinned me down. My heart raced in my chest, the cold fear creeping through me with each beat. I wanted to stand my ground, to show them both that I wasn't the scared, helpless kid they seemed to think I was. But with Dream's eyes burning into mine, it was hard to remember how.
"George," I began, my voice shaking slightly despite my best efforts. "I know you're worried, but you've got to trust me. I can handle myself. I—"
"Handle yourself?" Dream's voice was a low growl, dripping with disbelief. "You can't even handle the mess you've put George through."
His words cut deeper than I expected, a mix of anger and shame bubbling up inside me. I wanted to snap back, to tell him to back off, but the fear in my chest tangled with my thoughts, making them hard to form. Instead, I stood there, mouth half-open, trapped in the intensity of his gaze.
George reached out, almost as if to touch me, but his hand hovered in the air, uncertain. "Alex," he said, softer this time, the anger in his voice melting into something more fragile. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to protect you."
YOU ARE READING
Tripe Fate(karlnapity)
Werewolf"New school, new life... and two soulmates?!" Quackity didn't expect much from transferring schools over summer break-just a fresh start in a strange place. But on his first day, he meets two people who turn his world upside down. Turns out, they're...
