The Alpha's Eternal Ache

CHAPTER EIGHT

EDWARD

The drive away from the school was suffocating. I kept my eyes on the road, but I could feel the electricity of her shock and anger radiating off her. The silence was a physical weight, stretching until Chloe finally seemed to snap out of her daze.

​I felt the cool breeze hitting us, watching out of the corner of my eye as the wind whipped her hair across her face. I just wanted her to understand. I wanted her to be the one to ask the right questions so I could finally lay it all out—tell her everything, show her the truth, even shift right here in the driver's seat if that’s what it took to make her believe.

​But she wasn't interested in the how or the why. She was stuck on the wrong things, fixated on why I cared who she dated.

​"Stop the car," she said, her voice flat.

​I didn't slow down. My jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as I gripped the wheel until my knuckles turned white. Was that a request or an order? I’m an Alpha; I don't take orders, especially not from a puzzle I haven't been able to solve in the two weeks I've known her.

​"Stop the car, Ed," she tried again, her impatience flaring.

​"Don't call me that," I snapped. My voice was low, a warning she clearly chose to ignore.

​"Why, Ed? Your name is Edward. The short form is Ed," she countered, a smirk playing on her lips. She was pushing my buttons, and it was working. I could feel my pulse hammering in my throat.

​"I said, don't call me that."

​"I'll call you whatever the f**k I want," she shot back, her voice rising. "I'll do whatever the hell I want. And I'll talk with whomever I want. Kiss them, hug them, and even have s*x with—"

​I didn't let her finish. I yanked the wheel, the tires screeching against the asphalt as I pulled a violent U-turn. The world blurred outside the windows until we were facing the way we came, the engine idling with a low, menacing growl that matched the heat in my chest.

​"What the f**k! Are you trying to get me killed?" she yelled, accusing me of trying to frame an accident. "Come on, run towards the upcoming car. What now? Are you scared? Come—"

​"Just shut the hell up, Chloe," I interrupted, my voice raw. My head was pounding. I was done with the defiance. "Shut the f**k up and listen."

​Our eyes locked, a silent battle of wills.

​"You can't call me Ed," I muttered, the possessive jealousy tasting like lead in my mouth. "Because you’d be calling that bastard the same name. Just call me Edward. That’s my name."

​The silence that followed was heavy. Then, she spoke softly. "I've never called him Ed. You are the only one I call Ed. I was talking to you earlier, not him."

​Relief flickered through me, though I tried like hell to hide it. I shifted gears mentally, the weight of our bond pressing on me. "You talk too much for my mate."

​There it was. The word was out. She blinked, her eyes wide and confused. "What do you mean by 'mate'?"

​Finally. The question I’d been waiting for. But now that it was here, I felt like I was caught in a loop.

​"Listen to me, I literally mean mate," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "As in the one made for me. The one fated to me. You are for me, and I'm for you. We are made for each other. That's what I've been trying to say all this while, but you—"

​She started laughing. High, mocking peals of laughter that made my confusion turn into irritation.

​"What's funny? What I'm saying is not funny, so stop laughing," I commanded, a hint of my Alpha authority leaking into my tone. She caught her breath, a final hiccup of a laugh escaping her.

​"I'm sorry, but you are indeed funny," she said, her grin dripping with sarcasm. "I'm made for you? Fated? Is this some paranormal novel you’re trying to act out?"

​I leaned my arm on the window rim and ran a hand over my face, exhaling a deep, jagged sigh. I was exhausted. I’m a werewolf; I’m not supposed to tire easily, but Chloe was draining me in a way no physical fight ever could.

​"Look, if you’re just here to give me the same bullshit, just drop me off," she said, reaching for the door handle. I hit the locks. The click sounded like a final judgment.

​"Let me out!" she yelled.

​"Shut up and listen to me!"

​"Don't tell me to shut up! Unlock the fuckingcar!"

​"Chloe!"

​She suddenly screamed. It wasn't a yell of anger anymore—it was pure terror. She was staring at my head, her lips quivering, sweat breaking out on her forehead. She was looking at my ears.

​I felt the weight of resignation wash over me. I’d messed up. Despite all my training, the stress had caused my ears to sprout.

​"Stop screaming, and I'll explain," I said, cursing myself. "Not that I haven't been trying to do that, but you keep yelling."

​Once she calmed down—though she refused to look me in the eye—I told her everything. I told her werewolves were real. I told her about the packs. I told her she was mine.

​"How old are you?" she asked after a long silence.

​It wasn't the question I expected. I thought she’d ask about my mother, or if she was going to turn into a monster.

​"I'm twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five in a few months."

​"Oh s**t! Twenty-four!" she whispered. "I knew you weren't eighteen. You don't look eighteen-ish."

​She went quiet again.

​"So?" I prompted.

​She finally looked at me, our eyes locking again. My ears had receded back to their human shape by now. "So nothing?"

​I stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean by that?"

​"I mean nothing. You don't expect me to believe all that. Werewolves? Alphas? It’s the 21st century. Are zombies real too?"

​"But you saw my ears," I argued, my frustration boiling over. "They weren't normal!"

​"Yes, they were weird, and you scared the s*** out of me," she snapped, crossing her arms. "But anything could happen. It’s probably some abnormality or a disease."

​"If anything could happen, then why don't you believe me?"

​"Because you're talking about novel fantasies," she muttered.

​"They are real, Chloe! I'm real!"

​I looked at her, hoping for some sign of understanding, but she just kept nodding with her lips pressed together, clearly holding back more laughter.

​I gave up. I couldn't do this today. I slammed the car into gear and drove back to the school in a blur of speed. When I hit the parking lot, she bolted out of the car without a word, heading for the entrance. I didn't get out. I just floored it, the tires spinning as I zoomed away.

​As the school disappeared in my rearview mirror, only one thought haunted me: Is she really my mate? Because if she is, I’m in for a very long life.