His Claws On My Neck [Completed]

Chapter 8: Confrontation

Leal wiped her tears as soon as she left the office. She went ahead after getting the assurance she needed from her manager. 

She's keeping her job, thank God. 

She leaned in the wall outside her manager's office, as her knees weakened from pretending to be unaffected by his presence for too long. She tried so hard to not look at him in the eyes, not even in his direction. 

While taking deep breathing exercises, she could hear the faint conversation between Axel and her manager inside. He's probably complaining about the stain on his white dress shirt. 

She went out of the restaurant and exited through its back exit for employees, where she was greeted by the dark alley. Beside the door was a tall mountain of garbage, so she immediately walked away from the stinking smell. What added was the familiar rosewood scent that made her itch her nose. The door opened and from the light inside, his figure shadowed on the dark concrete surface. 

Leal sighed.

"How have you been?" He asked as he leaned a few meters away from her, leaning on the wall as well. She stuffed her freezing hands in the pockets of her uniform, feeling the awkwardness and tension in the air. 

"Great, actually," she sarcastically muttered, keeping her gaze straight. 

"Really? I saw quite the opposite back there." 

"Today's one of my bad days. It happens." She shrugged. 

"I'm sure bad days happen rarely. But looking at your figure and appearance now, it seems like those bad days have been happening more frequently," he softly said, being careful of his choice of words. He didn't want to seem rude when this was only the second time they were meeting. Or so he thought.

Leal's left brow raised, feeling slightly offended. She pointedly looked at him, though dark, she could still see his features.  "You're saying I look hideous?" 

He stood upright, looking flustered. "N-No! I meant—" 

"Nevermind. Your opinion regarding my look doesn't matter." She sighed. "Why did you follow me out here anyway?" 

Geez, she became tougher. He thought. Gone was the timid Leal he first met. But he's not sure why he seems to like this version of her better. 

"Can't I visit my mate?" 

Leal, utterly confused, frowned at him. "What?" 

Axel, who was now equally confused by her reaction, frowned at her too. "What?" 

They stared into each other's eyes, the light from the distant lamp post gleaming with their eyes' reflections. Leal sighed, knowing this will go nowhere. She doesn't even know how she stomached talking to him for this long. 

"Just go. You're wasting your precious time here," she said. 

I'm never wasting my time when I'm with you, was what he was supposed to reply, but kept it to himself. It seems like she doesn't know what they are, or what a mate is at all, when it's obvious she's a wolf. Why does she not know about mates? Or she does but doesn't want to admit it? 

"Leal..." Leal halted on her tracks back to the restaurant when he called her. With just one command from his voice, her system would automatically listen—and she hated it. 

"What do you know about mates?" He carefully asked. 

Once again furrowing her brows, Leal looked back at him. 

"Mates? I didn't know you were British. You surely don't have the accent nor the features." 

Axel looks more Russian than British, but who is she to judge? He never even bothered to tell her his nationality back in college.