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I finally got desperate enough to drink from the bathroom sink—because at least there’s a bathroom attached to this room—but my stomach is rumbling with hunger pangs from going nearly twenty-four hours with no food.
Being alone and deprived for this long, I’m starting to hallucinate the smell of those steaks Luca made. The regret has really sunk in; I shouldn’t have been so quick to let him run off. At least he was feeding me.
I thought I hated Dominic before, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel now.
I’m contemplating throwing myself out of his third-story window and hoping for the best. Because at this rate, I can’t imagine he plans to keep me alive anyway if he’s not even bothering to make sure I’m fed while keeping me captive.
And speak of the devil…
I turn my head to the side so I can glance at the door as it squeaks open. Dominic pauses in the doorway, taking stock of where I lie motionless on the floor. His eyes narrow in judgement, flashing toward the bed then back at me again.
“I don’t know what’s been on those sheets,” I spit out with a haughtiness that seems to surprise him.
He doesn’t need to know that ten minutes alone in this room and my wolf was begging me to climb into that bed and touch myself until he returned and joined me. It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to her, too, considering he never fucking came back.
“Don’t be ridiculous; this place is kept spotless,” Dominic dismisses the accusation. “It’s been a long day. I can have someone bring you some clothes for bed if you’d like?”
“Bed?” Straight fire burns through my veins. “You left me locked in here today with no food or water and you think I really give a damn whether I’m given pajamas?Fuck you, Dominic.” My wolf manages to slip out a little attitude of her own at the end.
I turn my head to face away from him and try to calm the rage burning too brightly inside of me. I’ve never had anyone take control over me like this. My siblings didn’t exactly play the parenting card, and Callum practically tripped over his own feet to make sure I knew no one would pressure me into anything while I was with the East Terrace Green Pack.
Plus, our mate is being a prick. My wolf sniffs dramatically. We are clearly not fully on the same page.
“You haven’t eaten?” Dominic asks incredulously. “Why didn’t you ask for food?”
I have to take a very deep breath when the accusation rings loud and clear. He thinks I’m just too stupid to have asked for something to eat. I don’t know why he bothered dragging me here—unless he just needs a living punching bag—considering he clearly thinks I’m beneath him in every possible way. It’s no wonder he rejected me, the man’s narcissism leaves no room for any other wolf.
And I cannot stand sharing air with him for another moment.
I push to my feet and go out to the balcony. The distance isn’t enough, though I really don’t want him to bother me, so I grab one of the garden chairs and shove it under the door handles, effectively locking the door between us.
I can see Dominic through the glass, staring bewilderedly at me. I grab the other chair and take a seat facing out at the huge green space behind the library-turned-pack-house.
It’s actually a pleasant view despite the circumstances.
I can hear Dominic try the door handle, and I’m pleased to find it holds. I wasn’t actually sure it would work, I just remember Tevin and Tasha used to do it to each other when they were bickering after we first lost Mom and Dad. It forced a much needed break between them.
* * *
It isn’t often you get to test the true length of a man’s patience, but as the moon rises high in the sky, Dominic has clearly had enough of my shit. I’m so content that it nearly startles me out of my chair when glass shatters behind me.
I whip around to see one of the panels of the French doors broken out, and Dominic reaching through to shove the chair out from under the knobs. It clatters to the ground.
“Get the fuck inside, Tess,” he says coldly.
I’m tempted to disobey and keep pushing his limits, but the distinct smell of pasta wafts out to me. I might be furious with Dominic, but hunger wins out.
I abandon my post, slipping past him into the bedroom and heading straight for the Tupperware container on top of the table by the door. Neither of us says a word as I pop the lid off and groan as steam rises up to caress my face. Not only is it a giant bowl of pasta, but even better, it’s warm.
There’s a fork sitting on a napkin, and I waste no time making use of it. I’m sure I look ridiculous shoveling food into my mouth as I stand there with the bowl held close to my face. At least the only person around to see is someone whose opinion doesn’t matter at all. He already proved he doesn’t give a shit about me, red sauce on my face or not.
“You’re going to make yourself sick.” He grimaces as he sits on the edge of his bed, eyes never leaving me.
I try to tell him, “I don’t care,” around a mouthful, but it comes out as a jumbled mess. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that was a hint of a smile gracing the corner of his lips, but I do know better.
He grabs a small pile of clothes I didn’t notice before and throws them across the room so the garments land at my feet. “Finish eating and put those on. I’ll be back.”
Then he gets up and storms out of the room like he can’t get away from me fast enough. We’re wolves, seeing each other undressed is an unavoidable reality. Clearly, my nudity must just be particularly offensive to him.
