Page 5 of Bullied Pregnant Mate (Silver Meadows Wolves #7)

As the party winds down and the guests begin to leave, my anxiety leaks out of my stomach, sending cold tendrils of panic shooting from my fingers up to my spine. The dress feels too tight, and I can’t breathe.

When Amanda and Lucy say goodbye to me, I cling to them, hoping desperately that somehow all of this will change and I’ll be able to go with them.

I can’t be trapped in this house with Jenks!

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lucy says soothingly, rubbing my back as she hugs me. “It’s not that bad. You’ll get used to this place in no time.”

“Uh-huh,” I croak, not trusting myself to make actual words. I’m afraid I’m going to start screaming.

Amanda is watching me with a serious expression, understanding dawning in her eyes as she watches me cling to Lucy. She gives me a big hug and squeezes me hard. I lean into her, letting her comfort me.

Out in the canyon, she wasn’t just our leader, our high priestess. She was like our mom, too.

“Call me if you need to talk,” she whispers in my ear. “But remember, you committed to this. You can’t back out now.”

“I know,” I whisper, nodding. “It’s okay.”

It’s really not okay.

“We left your stuff in the living room,” Lucy says. “Good luck, Alisa.”

I put on a brave face as I stand in the doorway, watching the girls’ car disappear down the driveway. I’m reluctant to go inside, but I also know I can’t just stand there forever.

With a sigh, I go back inside, shutting the door behind me. I can hear some noise in the kitchen, so I decide to go straight there and face Jenks.

Since I can’t avoid him forever, I might as well get this part over with.

Every step I take, my nervousness rises another notch. Jenks and I have never even had an actual conversation, let alone shared space with each other.

When I walk into the kitchen, he’s busy making coffee, humming to himself and tapping his fingers on the counter. He’s always loved music but couldn’t ever settle on one instrument. His short attention span and restless energy always made it impossible for him to truly focus on anything.

Or anyone.

I clear my throat as I stop by the counter. He spins around to face me, looking shocked to see me there.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says.

“I must have been very quiet,” I answer, shrugging.

He stares at me, his big, ice-blue eyes shimmering a little in the evening light. It goes on so long, I start to feel uncomfortable, but I don’t know what to do about it.

“Jenks,” I say firmly. “What are you staring at?”

“Oh!” he says, turning away. “I… just… well, it’s a pretty dress, that’s all.”

My cheeks feel hot, and I look at the floor—my default gesture in high school when people were laughing at me.

Does he actually like the dress?

Does he like me ?

“Would you like some coffee?” he asks.

“No,” I answer, looking up at him again. He’s taken off his jacket, and the crisp white shirt is untucked, his long sleeves rolled up loosely to his elbows. My eyes linger for a bit on the strip of bare skin exposed where the top buttons of his shirt are undone.

“Would you like anything else?” he asks.

I flick my gaze straight up to his face, my anxiety going into overdrive when I see the little smile and the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

“No,” I say, trying to gulp down my awkwardness. “I ate plenty at the reception, and coffee will just keep me up. I want to go to bed early.”

“That sounds good to me,” he says suggestively. There’s the counter between us, but when he faces me from the other side and leans on the table, our faces feel only inches apart.

My cheeks still feel hot, and a warm rush is spreading under my breasts, prickling across my skin and making my nipples feel tight. When Jenks raises an eyebrow and very obviously checks me out with a long, slow look, the heat rushes to my inner thighs.

And deeper.

Fuck.

“I’m not sleeping with you!” I blurt out.

There’s a flash of disappointment on his face, but he covers it quickly.

“Still an ice queen, then?” he asks, grinning. “She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t even date.”

“Ice queen!” I repeat, glaring at him.

“Emotionless and weird. Staring into space with vacant eyes. More of an alien than a girl. No boy in school could ever get her attention—if any of them even wanted to!”

I glare at him, anger rising in my belly. My anxiety and lust have been completely destroyed by my fury.

I don’t know what pisses me off more—the names he’s calling me, or that he’s talking about me in the third person.

“Is this really the kind of thing you said behind my back?” I say, my voice coming out soft as I try to hold back.

“Actually, we said it to your face,” he laughs. “You were just too spaced out to notice.”

“You don’t get to speak to me like that anymore, Jenkins!” I snap. “I’m your wife!”

“I don’t like it when people call me Jenkins!” he snaps right back. “Only my mother called me that.”

“Well, I’m not your mother,” I scoff.

He looks up. His blue eyes are cold, his gaze so sharp, it feels like it actually cuts me.

“No, you’re not,” he says. “Look, I’m just trying to break the ice here. You don’t have to get all offended.”

“Excuse me? You’re standing there calling me names, and I’m supposed to just take it?”

“No! I mean, wait. You think I’m calling you names?”

I cross my arms tightly across my chest. “That is exactly what you are doing.”

“I was just teasing! I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Anger flashes through me, fiery tongues of incandescent rage. But I hold it steady within me, keeping my composure as my fury rages.

Maybe I am an ice queen.

“Teasing is completely unacceptable,” I say, my voice steady and even. “No thanks to you, I’ve learned what’s acceptable and what’s not, and I won’t be degraded. Your words and the way they are delivered are disrespectful. You say you don’t intend harm, but you clearly want to diminish me. Is this what you have to resort to when you want to validate yourself?”

He stares at me, his icy blue eyes widening at every word. He looks even paler than usual, as if I’ve truly wounded him.

Good .

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize. I guess I’ll have to try harder in the future.”

“Don’t guess,” I retort. “Actually do it.”

“Will you back off?” he snaps. “I’m trying.”

“No, you’re not,” I say, beginning to enjoy myself. “Clearly, you know what accountability is, but you’re determined to dodge it. That’s why you’re using weak words and immature tricks to make your point.”

“Alisa—”

“Jenkins!” I say, cutting him off and deliberately using his full name again. “You call me the ice queen, but I’m here in front of you now, standing up for myself, and I will continue to do so! If you insist on teasing or using immature tactics to communicate, I’m going to call you out and give it straight back to you. Is that the kind of atmosphere you want in your home?”

“No,” he says sullenly, looking at the table.

“Good,” I answer, nodding. “I’m going to get comfortable in the spare room now. We can talk about this in the morning.”

That went well.

As I turn and leave the kitchen, I can’t hold back a surge of triumph. I didn’t go in there intending to make Jenks feel bad, but he gave me the opportunity to call him out, and it’s extremely satisfying to finally answer him back.

And I didn’t lose my shit, or call him names, or use low blows. I stayed calm and served it up with a straight face!

I drag my bags into one of the spare bedrooms, then go for a shower. I decide to stay in the west wing where Jenks’s room is. Even though I’m not crazy about sharing his company, going to the other end of the house seems terribly lonely.

I take my time in the shower, trying to settle my thoughts so I can relax enough to get some sleep. Instead, all I can think about is the moment of connection we shared in the kitchen, the feel of his hands on me while we were dancing… and our kiss at the altar.

I dreamed about kissing Jenks every single day of my life. Now I finally have, and it was better than any of my fantasies!

My hands roam slowly over my body, slick with soap and warm water. There’s a part of me that wants to step out of the shower, walk slowly down the hall into Jenks’s room, then throw myself at him without saying a word.

A soft moan slips through my lips as a deep throbbing spreads between my legs. The idea of seducing him so suddenly without even speaking makes me feel incredibly powerful. These urges have lived inside me so long, I thought I’d never get a chance to satisfy them.

But he’s just a man—and a player. He’s always moved on quickly, getting new girlfriends all the time. If I threw myself at him, it would be sex and nothing more. I want him to really want me, not just lust after me.

The arousal dies quickly as I realize how humiliating my fantasy could be if it didn’t work out exactly as I planned. Hurrying out of the shower, I dry myself off and almost run back to my room. I curl up on top of the covers, wrapping my arms around a pillow.

My body is so tense, and my thoughts are so chaotic, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fall asleep. But the next thing I know, I’m plunged into a deep dream.

Lucid dreaming has always been one of my talents. A higher form of magic. I must have gone out like a light to be so deep so quickly.

Lights and colors swirl around me before they begin to form shapes and solidify into an all-too-familiar location.

School. I’m back in high school.

Fuck, no!

I look around the bright hallway, seeing crowds of students around me as we make our way to class before the first bell.

Why am I here? Dreams have a purpose. What is my subconscious trying to tell me?

“Oh my lord. Check this out!”

Jenks’s voice rings out above the murmuring of the crowd. I feel like a shaft of ice has just gone straight through my chest, freezing me into place with fear.

Oh no. It’s that day. That horrible fucking day!

I look down at myself and see the tight, black mini-dress hugging my figure. I’m wearing cute little wedge heels with straps. My long blond hair is swept up above my neck in a sophisticated twist.

Please, God, don’t make me relive this!

This was the day I decided to do what I want, wear what I want, and fuck the people who teased me. I loved this little outfit so much, I just wanted to show it off and express myself.

I was sick of being tortured. I really thought I could overcome it.

“Are you going to a funeral?” Jenks calls out. “Hey, ice queen, I’m talking to you!”

I turn around slowly, clenching my fists as I face Jenks. Bae and Jack are in the crowd, too, but they’re behind him.

Jenks is your court jester, isn’t he? Bae, the king who gets away with anything, and his second-in-command, and the fucking clown they keep around for entertainment!

“I said, what’s with the dress?” Jenks says. “Are you going to a funeral?”

“No,” I squeak, barely able to push my voice through my throat.

“Oh, thank God,” Jenks says, covering his face with dramatic flair. “If you showed up at the graveyard like that, they’d think you’re the ghost, you’re so pale! Better watch out, they might try to bury you.”

Retorts begin to blister my tongue because I’m not a little girl anymore, but I’m trapped in the dream. I can’t react.

“Pale as fucking milk,” Jenks goes on, shaking his head. “Do you blend into walls? Is that why you went for such a dramatic look?”

Fuck you, you asshole! As if you know a goddamn thing about fashion. What difference does it make to you what I wear?

The thoughts flash through my mind, but I can’t speak. I just stand there like a rabbit on a plain, waiting for the wolf to sink his teeth in.

“Seriously, though, it does make you stand out,” Jenks says, tapping his chin and wiggling his eyebrows. “But that might be the problem. I mean, you’re out of place enough on any given day. This is just embarrassing yourself. I barely have to do any work at all.”

Finally, the confines of the dream loosen, letting me run down the hall to the girls’ bathroom. Before I can get there, I wake up, almost throwing myself off the bed as I wrench myself back to consciousness.

Fuck!

Tears trickle down my cheeks as I stare at the ceiling. I ran home that day and buried the dress in the bottom of my closet underneath piles of things I’d never wear. From that day on, I only wore faded old jeans and loose shirts, anything that made me blend in with the crowd.

And he still teased me. I can’t ever forget this. I know who he really is.

I cry myself to a dreamless sleep.