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Lexa chimes in seconds later. “I hope he does. It’s all we can do to show we appreciate everything he did to save us.”
We wait for a while, and dinner is going cold. I wonder when he will be back and am about to consider reheating everything when the door finally opens. His scent wafts to me, and I am starving, but I know it would be rude not to wait for him. Besides, I am hoping to speak to him, have some form of conversation, so I perk up when I hear the door open and close.
“I cooked dinner,” I blurt out as he wanders into the room where I sit at the dining table. He raises an eyebrow at me and glances at the table.
“Good for you,” he says, moving toward the fridge. He grabs a can of coke before wandering down the hallway, and moments later, I hear his door close.
I stare down at my almost cold dinner and wait a second to see if he returns, but he doesn’t.
“Well, I guess that went well,” Lexa says as I stare at the table I have painstakingly sat at for the past twenty minutes, waiting for him. Not to mention the time it took me to cook all this, yet now I find I have suddenly lost my appetite. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I squeeze them tight. Is this how it will be staying here? Composing myself, I grab my fork, digging in and eating almost robotically. I was excited about having cooked for him, and yet I taste nothing as I eat in the quiet, forcing myself to eat the meal I spent ages making for him.
When I’m done, I clean up, cling-wrapping his dinner and setting it in the microwave before wandering back to my room, which is just as empty as when I’d left it. With nothing else to do, I climb into bed.
“I suppose we can try again tomorrow. Maybe he had a rough day?” Lexa tells me, trying to cheer me up, yet I know she doesn’t believe that herself.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Axton
That steak with the twice-baked potatoes looks really good. No one has ever put that much effort into cooking anything for me. Actually, no one has ever even half-assed made me a noodle cup.
“You are a straight jackass. Axton, look at the time she put into making us dinner. She has open wounds on her back and stood up the entire time cooking while carrying our pups, and you couldn’t even sit your simple ass down and at least eat it?”
What the hell did Khan expect me to do? Play nice and make up? I think the fuck not.
“That’s exactly what your dumb ass should have done. Don’t you dare deny you still love her because you know you do.”
I am going to get what I have to say out before he gets a chance to block me; he needs to see reason. She’s put us through hell and is the reason my grandfather is dead.
“That’s not the point, Khan. She slept with that vampire the entire time she was gone.”
Khan growls at me. “You dumb fuck. She didn’t willingly sleep with him, and you know it. Did Jake just chain her up for shits and giggles then? Alisha just tripped and broke her own neck, too, huh?”
I hate how he keeps doing that.
“Hate what? The truth? Of course, you don’t want to hear the truth because you’d have to admit you are wrong and always have been from the beginning. I’m so sick of your shit, you know that?”
“I’m sick of you, too, fleabag. Everyone knows we can’t be compelled because we are werewolves,” I retort, feeling smug.
“Fuck you, you fucking meatbag. In wolf form, you dipshit. I can’t be compelled when we are shifted. But you can, you big dummy!”
Wait! What? How the hell did I not know this?
“You think everyone even knows that? Well, newsflash, they don’t. What do you think I’d been doing half the time I took over? I was reading up on our mortal enemy and looking for Elena.”
Wait a minute. He agreed we would kill her if we found her.
Khan answers me before I can even ask. “No, I merely told you what you wanted to hear, dickwad. You are such an irrational lovesick creature. If I had told you the truth, you would have gone apeshit.”
Now I am pissed; he has been keeping shit hidden from me. “What the fuck, Khan?! How could you keep that from me?”
Khan snarls back at me. “Same as you hiding how you really feel about Elena. The guilt you try to hide and cover up with justifications. Deep down inside, you know this is your fault. You would rather blame her for your mess than take responsibility for nearly killing her, and our pups, twice. Let’s not forget Alisha. Her blood is on your hands and no one else’s. You can’t even pin that on Jake. Derrick even thought he was human and gay, like you could tell the difference. They smell just like what they eat, you fool.”
I’m sick of him blaming me for all of it. I didn’t tell her to run from me.
“No, but you sure created the conditions for her not to trust you or stay. What other choice did you give her? Now get your shit together, eat that food she made, and appreciate that she doesn’t hate you the way she should.”
