Page 10

DEACON

If there was one quality that Jake hated about his sister, it was her stubbornness. It’s seven years later, and Winter wears that stubbornness like a suit of armor she won’t let me get past. On our first day working together, she has proven to be a tough nut to crack. The entire day, I’ve forced her to be with me. She’s hardly let her guard down, let alone let me in. I’m starting to think that I can’t put a dent in those walls she’s built so high to keep me out.

Her workstation being in my office means we are seated in the same room, but not once has she flicked her gaze at me. Since the meeting with the CFO ended a few hours ago, I’ve tried engaging her in conversation, but my mate has done nothing but shut me out since I told her she wasn’t done for the day.

City lights from the world outside penetrate past my windows, but there’s nothing that beats the view of the moon’s light falling on Winter’s desk and, by extension, falling on her, too. Sounds of the air conditioner and the bustling cars from down below distantly reach us, but all I can hear is the sound of her breathing as she, yet again, grows frustrated at the situation.

My wolf’s impatience flays me raw from the inside. I can taste his wounded ego so sour in my mouth, and, although his primal instincts revolve around getting Winter to want us back and possibly kiss her again, I try to get Winter’s attention another way.

Dragging my eyes on her again, I drink in the sharp features of her face, including her high cheekbones that are dusted with a pink blush. I drink in the way her brows furrow as she goes over the quarterly reports, how her lips curl, and how she worries her bottom lip into her mouth because she doesn’t seem to understand anything on the sheet of paper she’s holding. Most importantly, I think about how those long, toned legs would look great against my face as I eat her core out.

Goddess, have I missed the taste of what’s between her legs. My memory is still fresh when it comes to Winter, and so is the memory of how addicting she tastes and how pretty she looks when she’s coming from my fingers alone.

Looking at her now and going back to that night, one thought festers in my mind. I should have marked her. I should have claimed ownership of her that night. Marking her would have meant me sinking my fangs into her neck and being one with her. That sort of thing would have also required Winter to become less anxious and mentally prepared; otherwise, if she wasn’t, there were the chances of her bleeding out or experiencing pain more than she should have. Looking back now, I should have left my mark, which would have presented itself as a tattoo pattern on her neck.

Maybe we wouldn’t be here if I had done so. Maybe rejecting her but still putting my mark on her neck would have assured her I wanted her to be mine, but circumstances forced me not to keep her.

Testing the waters as to why she’s been checking the watch on her wrist for close to ten minutes now, I break the silence that has stretched on between us, hoping my thoughts about her having a date have no roots.

“You seem upset, Ms. Cavanaugh. Is something the matter?”

Winter’s answer to my question is a steely blank stare directed at me. One that would melt even the strongest of icicles to mere puddles.

“I don’t know, Mr. Cross. Why don’t you tell me? Are you keeping me here to punish me? I’ve reviewed these reports twice, counter-checked them twice, too, and I still can’t find the problem.”

Hearing her call me “Mr. Cross” feels like I’m trying to chew rusty nails every fucking time. She won’t find the problem because there’s no problem in those financial reports in the first place. I said I would resort to anything to get her back, and this is but the tip of the iceberg.

“You can be out of here in minutes if you give me what I want, Winter. One question, baby. Give me the answer to my question, and you can leave.”

She’s dodged the one question that’s racking my mind like an itch, and I can’t help but feel pissed off about it every ticking minute. I blame it on Martin. Ever since he mentioned another Alpha being in Winter’s life, I’ve all but gone crazy. Thoughts of Winter and another Alpha together or flirting or dating have been making me see red all day.

Winter piles up the reports neatly against her desk, before she picks up her purse, stands up and says, “If that’s all you need, then I’ll be on my way, Mr. Cross.”

The minute she makes a beeline for the door my feet are already hoisting me up. One minute, I’m behind my desk, watching her instead of focusing on work, and the next minute, I’m standing right behind her, my hand above her head, my gaze on her, and my entire body caging her from the back.

Jealousy and possessiveness clench my heart in a vice grip, and words fly from my mouth faster than I stop them, “Do you call him Sir? Or do you call him by his first name?”

Her shoulders stiffen, and I watch the action itself without backing down.

“Is he waiting for you to get home right as we speak, Winter? Is that the reason you’ve been itching to get away from me all night?”

Silence.

Winter gives me nothing but the silent treatment, and in that silence, confusion and disbelief are written in her pretty features as if what I just said wounds her and shocks her at the same time. For me, I take her silence as my answer. I might have been right about her having a date. I might have also been right in assuming there’s a guy, more specifically Kieran Vega, waiting for her somewhere.

I can hear the little spurts of air that erupt from her nostrils. I can almost see her eyes without standing in front of her, and this is the most torturous thing I’ve had to endure.

To ask my mate whether she’s seeing another man, whether she moved on from me when the truth of the matter is my insides feel like they are being chopped to pieces by a serrated blade from anticipating her answer.

Putting my foot in my own mouth, I lean closer, my lips almost touching the shell of her ear. “Does Kieran Vega know you were mine first, and you are still mine when he fucked you?”

“Fuck you, Deacon,” the hitch in her breathing and the sound of her voice cracking as she speaks tells me I went too far.

Winter pushes the double-edged doors with enough might to bring the building down. By the time my mind registers that I just ruined our work relationship before it even began, Winter is already running down the hall that leads to the only elevator on this floor.

I give her a head start. I watched her do the exact same thing she did years ago. I couldn’t stop her then—but this time round? I run after my mate. I choose her. I’ll always choose her.

The elevator doors part in time for Winter to get in. Once she’s inside, Winter raises her head, and our eyes meet. I can't forget the look written on her face.

It’s like she didn’t expect me to run after her—like she’s already decided that I’m the asshole who’ll never run after her no matter what.

Our eyes colliding, my feet move faster than those doors close. My little mate taps the button at least three times so that she can lock herself inside and lock me out. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for me, I shoulder my way inside the metal contraption before the doors shut and lock us both inside.

“Winter—”

“No. Just no, Deacon! You rejected me, and I left. Was that not enough for you? Was me losing my family and losing you all in the same shitty month not enough satisfaction for you?”

Her eyes burn aflame. Those green shards of eyes she has are an inch away from spilling a bout of tears as she points an accusatory finger at me.

Static only filters through my ears as I sample her words.

“Satisfaction? For Goddess’ sake, Jacob was my best friend too, Winter. Your family was like my—”

Winter cuts me off like a woman scorned. ” My family was never your family, Deacon. Jake was never your fucking best friend if you couldn’t even be man enough to stop your father’s lies and avenge his death years ago.”

How wrong she was, and I couldn’t even begin to tell her just how much.

Not backing down, refusing to let me have a word in because she’s hurt and tired, Winter continues talking, and every word is laced with as much acid as she can summon.

“Which is why you do not get the right to come here and pretend like you own me. You don’t get the right to ask who I’m fucking or who I’m not fucking because I am not yours, and you are not mine. Whether it’s Alpha Kieran or someone else, you lost all the right to me a long time ago, Deacon.”

The only assurance I have here is that this elevator provides me all the room to corner her without her running off and without anyone interfering with us.

I eat away the distance between us, and Winter steels herself against the steel wall, ready for me.

“A long time ago, you reminded me of one thing, Winter. That we are fated and that, come what may, this pull between us would never cease to exist.”

Her eyes pool with tears, but with her tough-as-nails exterior and the ire she has for me, she doesn’t let those tears fall. She would rather jump off a building than let me see her cry. And I don’t know whether to clap at her strength or to be offended by the fact that she’ll never allow herself to be vulnerable toward me ever again.

“The girl who told you that was young, dumb, and naive. She should have seen your betrayal from a mile away. You didn’t acknowledge me as your Luna in front of the pack because I was the same girl who would have opened her legs for you anytime because I had a crush on you. You were never going to admit I was your Luna, nor were you ever going to mark me, and I should have seen it coming, Deacon. Goddess, was I stupid.”

My ears peak at the word “mark.” She thinks I didn’t mark her because I wasn’t planning to make her my Luna after I took her virginity? She was eighteen. She had just had her wolf. I had just made her bleed on my cock, and I thought that marking her would come at another time. I thought we had time to explore our bond and get to the marking when she was at least comfortable to be fully mine. I had been wrong about that, though.

Plus, I might have been an asshole back then, but even with that, I wouldn’t have marked her and increased her pain all in the same night. I couldn’t have handled seeing my mate in that much pain, no matter what me and my wolf wanted.

“Is that what it’ll take, Winter? My mark? Because I’ll mark you right here right now if you want, baby. I’ll put my mark on that graceful little neck so that men like Kieran Vega understand you are not up for grabs. I didn’t mark you then because you’d just bled for me, but you are stronger now. Say the word, Winter.”

I corner her, caging my arms against her and the wall. Winter opens her mouth, her hands slapping my chest, ready to push me away, but we are both startled by the red light that flicks inside the elevator. I’ve seen enough elevator malfunctions to know what comes next.

One minute later, stark darkness fills the whole elevator. One second in the darkness, Winter shrieks.