The Alpha and Her Rogue

|2| She Has Arrived

Jaxyl

The familiar scent that often made me crazy floated into my senses. The feeling of being held so tightly to his chest is elating.

"Where did you come from?" I giggle.

"From wonderland to save you from busting your ass on the concrete," Bryce jokes. "What did you drink?"

"Wolfsbane," I slurred. "It was disgusting," I gag.

"Then why did you drink it?"

"To have fun," I grin at him.

"Babe, you know that shit is no good."

"Why aren't you drunk," I asked. "You're not high either," I frowned, realizing he was completely sober. 

"Not in the mood," he shrugs.

Even through my drunken haze, I could tell that he's lying. Something is bothering him but like always, he won't tell me. He has never let me inside his head.

"Where are we going?" I ask, noticing that we are a great distance away from the party.

"Somewhere for you to rest. You're done partying."

"Nooo," I whine. "I want to-"

"You want to what?" he cut me off. "I said you're done. You are too messed up and I'll be damned if anyone thinks they can touch you," he says sternly.

"You are mine," he nudges his nose into my neck, breathing in my scent.

If I wasn't drunk I would have slapped him.

Instead of arguing with him, I relax my head onto his chest, enjoying the feeling while I can. I never get to experience the pleasure of being held by my mate. I inhaled his wonderful scent, getting my mind and body excited.

I ran my hand down his face and nipped at his neck.

"Jaxyl, stop," he demands. A warning growl vibrated through him.

"Why?" I continue, biting him harder. Swiftly, I was pushed into the cool brick of the dormitory.

"Jax..."

"Hmm?" my hands found their way under his shirt.

Through the slits of my eyes, I could see that he was trying hard to control himself. I kissed down his neck until he grabbed my face to stop me.

"Please, stop," he breathes.

"What's stopping you?" I laugh. "You've never been afraid of a little PDA."

"Come on," he pulls my hands away, creating distance between.

I didn't try and front as if it that didn't hurt my feelings. He was looking at me pleadingly, a look anyone rarely gets to witness.

I don't understand why he's so repulsed by the idea of us being mates. I never have and as long as he remains disconnected from me, I never will. I could feel the tears start to swell. I hate crying in front of him--because of him--it makes me look like fool.

"Why don't you want me? Am I not good enough for you? What did I ever do to you, Bryce?" I bombarded him with questions.

Instead of providing an answer, he stood staring at me guiltily before putting on a stoic expression. 

"Let's just get you to bed."

Unsuprisingly, I woke up with the worst hangover I've ever had.