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Didn’t she want me? Or was she still fighting against her wolf?
I shook my head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. Standing under the water, I let the heat wash over my body, hissing with every rivulet that ran over the raw healing wound. Even still, the memory of being with Sunday had my cock jerking. I’d been tortured by fever dreams of her, waking up hard, wishing she’d do something to ease the ache, but knowing beyond all doubt that wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t. Not until I was healed. Maybe that was part of this. I knew I couldn’t serve her as her mate should.
I was weak. Less than. Not deserving of her. Especially since Blackthorne could give her what she needed. So could Alek. Fuck, even the damned priest could give her more than I was able to right now. No wonder she’d abandoned me.
Resting my fists against the wall, I hung my head, the water running down my face. Embarrassment and shame swirled inside me as tears pricked my eyes. At least no one was here to witness me falling the fuck apart. All this time I’d never shed a single fucking tear over her.
But this... her choosing them over me? It was the thing that was going to destroy me. And there was nothing I could fucking do about it.
A swirl of blood ran to the drain, mixing with the water, and I cursed under my breath. I’d probably torn my stitches. I hated this. Hated being broken. Being less than what she needed. Knowing she was happy with them while I was here alone. Hurting. Wanting only her.
But it wouldn’t be long before I was back to my true self. I’d be healed and whole, and then I’d tell her she had to make a choice. Because I couldn’t go on like this. The laughing stock of my pack. She was my mate.
Mine.
And I wouldn’t give her up without a fight.
