Bound to love |BxB|

Chapter 8

Peyton's POV
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Bang.

My red glove connected with leather, a loud blast rattling the ample room. And before the echo of that sound reached my ears, another thunder-like whack surged into the air. Again. Again. And again.

The gym's white walls and the padded floor under my feet quivered, pecks of dust falling from the cracks of the ceiling. But when I stared at the punching bag in front of me and drew my whole torso behind me for yet another hit, there was nothing.

Nothing else but the sharp pain that flashed through me every time my fist encountered the bag, and nothing else but the pure ire swimming at the bottom of my glacial eyes. Anger. Hatred. Resentment.

Slam!

I should've known he didn't want anything to do with me. It had been four days since I had seen him at the stable, and I hadn't heard a thing. Did he say he would contact me for the sake of getting rid of me easier? Did he ever even like me?

I thought he did, but... I should've known better.

Wham!

Clenching my jaw, I punched the bag for the hundredth time and sent it for a short trip– the heavy mass of leather and sand unable to even recoil back to me before it was again thrust into the air.

I didn't know whether to be angry at myself, or just disappointed. It had been foolish to think a person like him could ever be interested in someone like me, even if we were mates.

He was simply perfect.

His beauty couldn't ever be matched, not by a person or by any wonders of this world. His eyes and hair like liquid gold, and his skin brushed with a heavenly layer of tan– he stood out from everyone. And it didn't stop at his looks, because his personality was what attracted me the most. How he twisted his lips into a wicked grin and playfully narrowed his catty eyes, whispering words that were meant to draw a reaction out of you. He was compelling, in any way you looked at him.

Like an Aconitum.

Ethereally beautiful, but unfathomably dangerous.

He could get anyone here, no matter if he didn't have a wolf and he used a cane. I'd even argue that it was a part of his charm. People thought at first glance that he'd be easy to control, someone who didn't have a say or a do because he was different. But you only had to interact with him once to realise that wasn't how it worked.

He was the one you should tiptoe around.

I didn't understand how he could have such power, but I imagined there was a lot behind that intimidating, flirty shell. The tiniest bit of vulnerability I had seen on his face at the stable– something that had reminded me of how he was just as much of a human as the rest of us. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was anger or maybe it was something completely else, but I knew there was so much more than the jovial, carefree man; hidden somewhere deep under. And I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

I wanted to learn everything about him, the good and the bad. I was so fucking ready to fall in love with him.

But why would he feel the same?

Smack!

Why would he be interested in me?

An utter failure.

I wasn't a warrior, nor could I ever be the leader I was meant to be. The son of Alpha Diétrich.

I wasn't a fit for the role I had been raised in my whole life, not since that particular wintry day right around my sixteenth birthday. I wasn't normal. Not physically, nor emotionally– nothing was left of the old outgoing boy who could've in some dimension gotten a guy like Atticus' attention.