Imara Diversifies The Beastmen World

Chapter Ninety Seven: The Inner Battles of a Narcissist

As we walked out, frustration burned inside me, simmering just beneath the surface. "Wilbard, come see me when you're done attending to your female," I said, my voice sharp with irritation.

I understood Qean's background—how she lacked experience in friendships—but that didn't excuse her behavior. She knew the difference between right and wrong. I had seen her be thoughtful before, like when she gave me that dress.

I wasn't going to tolerate her smart mouth and selfish attitude toward me.

I had gone out of my way to give her a chance, to try and understand her, even when most people in the novel despised her. I saw something in her that others didn't, but she couldn't even give me a simple apology. Instead, she tried to guilt-trip me with that desperate question—"I'm still your pretty one, right?"

That was unacceptable.

I consider myself understanding and compassionate, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone take advantage of my kindness.

Qean needed to realize that I wasn't a pushover. I was willing to build real connections, to work through problems, but I wouldn't stand for being treated poorly in return.

Now, she had to sit with the consequences of her actions.

Because kindness should never be mistaken for weakness.

Qean POV

As Imara's footsteps faded into the distance, panic tightened in my chest, each echoing step making the guilt and regret inside me grow louder. I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving—of everything falling apart right in front of me.

Hearing her voice in the hallway sparked a small flicker of hope within me. Maybe she wasn't gone for good. Maybe I still had a chance. But that hope quickly turned to dread when I realized she wasn't talking to me.

She was speaking to Wilbard. Not me.

The realization hit me hard, like a sharp slap across the face. I felt invisible, discarded, like I no longer mattered.

Without thinking, I took off after her, my heart pounding against my ribs with every desperate step. My feet barely touched the ground as I rushed into the hallway, fear and frustration fueling my movements.

"You can't walk away from me!" I blurted out, my voice breaking with raw desperation. "I won't accept it!"

The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. I couldn't let her go—not like this. Imara was more than just a friend; she was the one person who had seen me, really seen me, and now she was slipping away.

I stood there, breathless, waiting, hoping, pleading inside that she wouldn't ignore me. But deep down, I feared it was already too late.

End of Qean POV

I turned to face Qean, surprise, annoyance, and sheer bewilderment flickering across my face at her sudden outburst.

"Watch me," I replied firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument.

"But this isn't what I want! I can't let you leave," she insisted, her voice trembling with conviction. "Don't walk away from me!"

As Qean's emotions bubbled over, Wilbard placed his hands gently on her shoulders, a silent attempt to calm her down. His eyes held a mix of concern and understanding.

"Qean..." he began cautiously, clearly not used to seeing his mate so emotionally wound up over anyone. This was uncharted territory for her.

I raised an eyebrow and let out a scoffing chuckle. "Qean, girl, you sound..."