Chapter 12: The Breaking Point

I fall silent as I pull on the last item from the pile, gritting my teeth at his pigheaded denseness, as that ember erupts into a little flame, pushing my nerves taut. It is a small, candle-sized one that hits in the dark recess and instantly glows—and grows—to epic proportions of robust flame that moves me to dress faster with a hostile, final tug to secure my pants. My blood is boiling as it overtakes me, and I sweep my hair back with sass and grab the door handle angrily.

I yank the door open, surprised to come face-to-face with him as he’s leaning his forehead against the door, and I almost headbutt him full-on. His eyes are glowing with the turmoil of his emotions, but it does little to dampen mine. It only notches my inner fury up another click. They meet mine and lock on in that special way we have whenever our eyes connect—the sizzle, the connection—but he isn't expecting the response that comes out of me, nor the rage. That little burning flame of crazy explodes at the sight of him.

"You didn't even like me before that night! You didn't know me! This, us, it's not real. It's something implanted inside of us by something up there." I point skyward, aggressively, glaring at him. "We would never have fallen for one another, never have crossed paths in any kind of way, if it wasn't for the Fates. I wasn't on your radar, and to be honest, I didn't even like you anyway."

I shove him back out of my space with a push to his abs so he clears the doorway, and he just gawps at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have!

"You don't even remember me, do you? Before that night. I didn’t think so! You need to pull your head out of your ass and remember that. Carmen was the woman you loved and planned a life with, and you chose her—loud and painfully clear! You said the words to me, and this is done. The Fates didn't stop us, Colton; you did, and your family, and everyone else in this hellhole that confined my kind to a dark hole on the outskirts and left us there to die. So don't you dare tell me how awful this is for you, because you have no fucking idea what 'awful' is until you've walked in my shoes for the last ten years of life. You have Carmen, you have a pack, a home, and a fucking choice in all of this. I never did! The Fates didn't punish you with this; they probably expected you to man up and do what they told you to do, for whatever reason they decided on us! You did this to us! You did this to me! Suck it up and shut the fuck up!"

I have no idea where this angry dressing-down comes from, but I deliver it in a raspy, accusatory tone right into his face. No fear, no cowering wallflower in front of an Alpha. Just an angry girl in the face of a stupid boy who bruised her heart and is pissing her off by denying his part in it. It is a powerful, frustration-filled lecture, snarls and throaty growls included, and I lock a penetrating gaze on him, pinning him where he stands as though I could impale him with looks alone.

It's true, though. He can stand making speeches and regretful apologies from now until eternity, but the simple fact is, Colton had a choice, and this is what he chose. He doesn't get to whine like some spoiled pup about it now. He's an Alpha, for God's sake, and he needs to own it—not act like some overdramatic teen whose parents are being lame and stopping him from doing something superficial.

He stares back at me in utter shock, rendered mute at my outburst and unsure how to even respond. Even his mind-link is silent. I don’t think any wolf this far below his station has ever talked to him like that, and he doesn’t seem like he knows quite how to respond. If I were anyone else, he probably would have me pinned to the floor by the throat, reminding me who my Alpha was. Instead, he’s silently shocked that I even had it in me.

I "argh" at him and shove him back abruptly, marching past, simmering with this sudden newfound rage; I know it can only be some sort of delayed reaction to what happened tonight. I'm not myself, I don't feel like I'm really here, and to be honest, this whole Carmen, Colton, vampire bullshit—and being brought to the home of the people who made my last decade worthless—is all a little too much for me right now. I'm angry, seething, bubbling away inside... at him, them, life, the goddamn Fates.

Most of all, I'm angry at me: for being this weak, stupid girl who wasn't good enough to keep, and too useless and vulnerable to save her friends and her family. I lost everything and I almost died. I am terrified inside, deep down, like a churning pit of foreboding that shadows me, of the monsters I knew only from stories. The ones who jumped out of the fables and threw me out of my own bedroom window. Knowing they are out there and close enough to really devastate our kind is enough in itself to make me cower for the rest of my life. They had a weapon, a sound, that—much like Carmen's—had the ability to hurt us and render us unable to turn. That means we're no longer the stronger in this newfound war and we can all be killed.

I have bigger things in my head right now than love confessions and pining assholes trying to mess with my head while arguing with his mate.

"I'm not going to spend my days whining about this crap, and I need you to just stop, okay? The words you said in the forest were the end of this. There's nothing to say or drag out and talk through."

I turn on him aggressively, lifting my palms in a show of "what now?"—meaning,

where the hell am I meant to be going in this damned house because I have never been here before and I'm fucking lost?

He nods back at a door behind me with very little to say. His expression is ashen, temporarily without words, and not really tackling my mood in the slightest. To be honest, he looks a little shell-shocked, and right now, I don't really care. I have weeks of pent-up heartbreak at this guy's hands and I'm done being a pushover. My life, in one night, went from awful to completely rock-bottom, end-of-the-line, apocalypse-kind-of-bad. I have bigger headaches than him.

My emotions start shredding and unraveling now that I let all of that out; my chest is hit with a heavy shunt, and suddenly I don’t feel so pent-up and hostile anymore. Instead, I feel like maybe I might actually cry. From rage and frustration to a sudden need to lie down and sob. Energy is burning out from venting, and reality is coming back full circle to remind me that I've lost everything.

I spin away from him to head on, then stop, shuddering involuntarily as the overwhelming wave hits me at full speed and the tidal wave of tears comes out of nowhere. I don't even have a chance to try and combat it before it hits full throttle. I break and flinch as I lose control and the tears start to fall. I cough on the woeful sound that escapes me, smothering my face with both hands to try and catch the waterfall as it pours from my eyes.

"Lorey, baby, don't."

Colton catches me by the arm and tries to pull me towards him, but I throw him off, putting too much force into shoving him away from me and sending him back-stepping by about three feet. I startle him with my show of force as he raises his palms to show he won't retaliate. Even breaking down like a feeble female, there's an internal burning rage that just isn't ready to die.

"Don’t. I don't need you touching me, consoling me. I just need you to leave me alone. All of you. I was fine on my own before, and I'll be fine on my own again."

That is not really accurate, but irrational and hormonal states are not to be argued with, and all I know is I need to get out of here and run. I need space: from him, them, this, my whole head-mess of pain, at knowing that from tonight onwards, nothing is going to be the same ever again.

I turn and head for the front door impulsively, not caring about anything else but getting solitude. The darkness invading the open space as I reach it sends an internal shiver of terror down into my stomach. I peer out into the unknown, from a doorway I've never known, with the knowledge that creatures out there worse than us mean us harm. They could be anywhere, and I have no place to return to now, either.

"No!"

Colton yanks me back with force and I spin on him tearfully.

"I'll leave you alone, but you're not leaving this house. It's dangerous out there for all of us now, and I won't let you go."

He pins me with a commanding look and a hostile tone, veiling a sliver of fear for my safety, but I throw it aside and cast off his emotions that are starting to flood me once more. I open my mouth to bark a refusal, but he hits me with a mental link and that dominant tone that instantly disables me.

You are not to leave this pack house without my say-so, and you won't argue! Stop it, now!

My head buzzes, both with rage and sheer frustration, as words catch in my throat and almost choke me instantaneously. I can't get them out; his gift is being misused to confine me to his home and stop my need to tell him what I think of his "commands." I am rendered mute because he forbade me to argue, and the only words poised are ones that tell him where to go.

I instead throw my hands in the air, glaring furiously at him, and then sucker-punch him in the abs out of intense frustration. He flinches, half-smiling with a shocked response—total disbelief that I'm being this aggressive—and a little apprehensive about how to react. I storm left, heading for the bathroom I just came from, hating him for being such a bossy asshole and exerting his powers over me when he has no goddamn right.

Colton catches me by the elbow instantly and yanks me to the right instead, heading for the stairs at a fast pace that signals he’s in no mode to argue about it. Forced by his strength, not even letting me choose where I get to be alone, it riles me; that simmering fire in my belly is back in a flash to push all tame aside, and my inner demon shows its face. I start fighting him every inch of the way by tugging, squirming, and pushing him off, stabbing him with scathing, pointed glares, refusing to relent.

I pull his hand from my arm, getting madder when he grabs me by the other instead—a tighter, biting grip meant to bring me back to heel. I twist it away, but to no avail as he shunts me from behind, then slides his arms around my body and continues to forcefully guide and push me where he wants me to go. It becomes a juvenile game of slapping, grabbing, shoving, and tugging, until he gets me around the waist and lifts me from my feet. Before I can stop myself, I ram an elbow straight into his face, crunching on the bridge of his nose and bruising my bone in the process.

"Fuck's sake, Lorey!"

He snaps at me, losing his shit completely, and halts as we hit the foot of the stairs. He is seriously emanating all kinds of rage at my refusal to be controlled, hitting me with a full-on, furious frown and sneer. He turns me snappily, hauls me towards him by the waist, and hoists me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He isn't playing anymore; his anger radiates hotter than the sun, but it only heightens my own. Carrying me as I squirm, wriggle, and kick out, using my nails on his back in a bid to make him drop me, he grips me tight and does the worst thing he can do in this moment. He uses his gift again, in a bid to get me to do as he wants against my will:

Be still. Be quiet. Obey me!

I freeze—motionless, voiceless—all without choice, and I am completely furious that he renders me immobile. My internal bubbling pot of

how the fuck dare you

heightens to volcanic levels in the blink of an eye. I am internally seething that twice, in the space of a minute, he's exerted his Alpha tone over me and put me in my place like an obedient little lowlife. My body is obeying him, my throat is muting, and I honestly don't think I have ever felt this much instant venom for anyone in my whole life.

It almost explodes inside of me, with the power to rip down these damned four walls. Like a kettle letting off steam after boiling to excessive popping abilities, it fills my every pore and vein with molten lava, straight from the depths of hell. I loathe him more than I ever thought I could hate anyone, and despite being bonded and imprinted to this arrogant asshole, I want to rip his goddamn, fucking, stupid, dumbass, shitty head off his shoulders and kick it down the stairs like a soccer ball.

That internal rage heats me like a volcano from the inside out, my blood reaching boiling point, my temper shooting through the roof. Despite being utterly paralyzed, slumped over him as we climb the stairs, my mind and insides churn up a tornado that would scare the Fates. It feels like I emit a solar flare when I boom out via our mental link:

I FUCKING DESPISE YOU!!!

It's a psychic scream, but as we pass two other Santos on the stair, the very second it erupts from my mind to his, even those two males cower and fall to the ground, grabbing their heads and yelping in agony. Colton, too, crumbles, dropping me—my lifeless body falling with an ungraceful thud on top of him—as we collapse in a heap on the steps.

Like a tremor of an earthquake erupting from my soul, every vase, glass, ceramic, and piece of pottery in the near vicinity explodes instantaneously. Windows blow out all around us, and the chandelier of the main hall, hanging right to the left of the stairway, shatters into a thousand tiny specks of self-combusted dust as though it just exploded, scattering microscopic glitter into the air that settles on everything around it.

It's a second of utter chaos, as though a bomb just went off in the center of the pack house, and hard, brittle objects in every direction break under the strain with a dramatic

whoosh

. People go down like tenpins around us, caving and crumbling while covering their ears—every single Santo in the downstairs hall who just walked in. I can see them from my viewpoint, all gripping their skulls and screwing their eyes shut as the force reverberates through and causes them all to collapse where they stand in a ripple effect.

I'm the only one not clawing at themselves to keep what seems to be overwhelming pain out.

"What the f...?"

Colton is breathless as he tries to regain composure, sliding his arms away from me hurriedly and skirting back to give me space, leaving me suddenly free to pull myself together. A hint of fear darts across his normally emotionless face as he flashes a glance at me, then at the carnage all around us and the debris. I can sense his panic and confusion, and for the moment, I can feel he doesn't want to get any closer; that he's wary about what I just did—if that was even me.

I'm dazed, bruised from being dropped on a hardwood staircase, and completely nonplussed about what the hell just happened. I feel like there was some sort of implosion around me, yet I'm completely unscathed. And now, my internal thoughts, body, and soul are totally calm. All that fire and rage is just gone.

"Was that voice hers?" one of the males on the stairs crawls to his knees and attempts to pull himself up by the bannister, staring at me in utter wariness. He, too, looks afraid and keeps his distance, getting further from me as he moves out of range.

"You heard her?"

Colton spins on him, and I pale as both men nod. Their eyes dart to me, then him, and they slide down the steps until they get on their own feet and scale it quickly to get away from me. With shaking legs, they rub their heads, and I can feel all eyes turning my way as others begin to pick themselves up from the floor. The hall looks like Armageddon just rolled through; there is smashed glass, china, and all sorts of carnage on every surface.

I know I did it in the headspace that only Colton should hear—no one else can access our bonded link. I didn't say it out loud, and as I move to sit up and gather my wits, I realize I'm no longer bound by his command, either. I cough and croak out a shocked reply, weirded out that I can both move and speak, when I shouldn't be able to until he undoes what he told me to do.

"I didn't do that."

I implore him, turning with nervousness, wounded when he moves even further away, his eyes mistrusting. I can sense his apprehension, and it cuts deep, like he's rejecting me all over again.

"What the hell was that?!?!"

Juan Santo bursts into the open space of the front door of the pack house, surrounded by his entourage of men, all dragging on blankets to conceal their nudity and looking utterly feral. They all cast an accusatory eye, first at those who have come out into the hallway to see what's going on—dazed and confused—to join those picking themselves out of the mess. But then his eyes scan up to where we are and lock a hateful glare right on me. I can almost taste his contempt for me and the pointed way his eyes flicker to Colton in a furious "why is she here?" balk.

"I think that was Alora. I mean... it was Alora."

Colton sounds sheepish, and even through all this chaos going off inside of me, I can feel he's afraid to come near me. There is genuine confusion and fear inside of him, and he’s keeping his distance by several feet now. Bonded or not, right now, he is scared of me. He doesn't understand what I just did any more than I do.

"It couldn't have been. She can’t have the power to inflict that kind of pain in the link state... or break everything as far as the eye can see. No wolf can."

A voice in the crowd echoes my way, and I'm aware every set of eyes is locked on me now, so I shrink down into a huddled heap of shame, heat rising to my face as I attempt to turn invisible. I immediately think of Carmen's gift, wondering if maybe it's coincidental and this was her, from somewhere else in the house, going catatonic in her own misery—but I know it can't be. She can smash glass only in the near vicinity when she sustains a scream at the highest pitch for long seconds. It hurts our hearing, not our mental link, and she’s never demolished everything around her the way I just did, nor immobilized the entire pack with one pulsating, psychic yell.

"Alora can."

Colton’s voice drops in the air around us like a heavy thud, and the deathly silence—a wave of shock, fear, and utter confusion—that his response is met with sends the fear of God right to the pit of my soul.