Seeking answers
945 Words
Once my mind locked onto the need for answers, the rest was instinctual. My body moved on autopilot, driven by a determination that refused to yield.
The questions swirling in my head had become too loud to ignore, each one tethered to the emblem in my pocket and the whispers of a connection between my mate and the remnants of an extinct pack.
*****
I pushed open the cabin door, the familiar creak sounding almost accusatory, and strode toward my room—our room now, since he’d decided to occupy it without so much as asking. The weight of his presence was undeniable, even before I entered.
The moment I stepped in, the air shifted. Tension clung to the space like a shroud, suffocating and dense. My mate sat at the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched and his head bowed, as though the weight of whatever he carried was too much to bear.
The door clicked shut behind me, drawing his gaze. Those sharp, unreadable eyes met mine for a fleeting moment before he turned away, as though even looking at me was too much.
“You’re awake,” I said softly, stepping further inside.
Silence was his response. His gaze remained fixed on something unseen, and his body radiated the same cold distance that had become all too familiar.
I pulled the emblem from my pocket, the metal cool against my skin. It glinted faintly in the dim light as I held it up, the crescent moon and wings catching his attention like a spark in the dark.
“I found this,” I said, watching his every move. “Where I found you.”
His reaction was immediate, though restrained. His entire body stilled, and though he tried to hide it, the sharp intake of breath betrayed him. His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“Does it mean something to you?” I pressed, my voice firmer now as I took a step closer.
He rose in a fluid motion, his movements eerily calm, and turned his back to me. His eyes focused on the window, the faint light tracing the sharp lines of his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, a knife-edge of control.
“You shouldn’t have gone back there.”
“I didn’t exactly get a choice,” I shot back, frustration rising like a tide. “You won’t talk to me. You won’t answer my questions.
What am I supposed to do? Pretend like nothing happened?”
“That would be best,” he said, his tone cold, final.
I stared at him, disbelief and anger mingling in a dangerous cocktail. “Are you serious? After everything, you’re just going to shut me out?”
He turned, finally facing me, his golden eyes hard and unyielding. “This isn’t about shutting you out, Amaya. It’s about me. Respect that, at least.”
His words were a wall I had no intention of climbing over—or respecting.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice rising despite the ache in my chest. “I’m your mate. Do you even understand what that means? I’m not some outsider you can push away whenever it’s convenient for you.”
His jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor, and I stepped closer, refusing to back down. “I need an answer. Because right now, all I see is someone who’s too afraid to let anyone in.”
His head snapped up, his eyes blazing with a storm of emotions—anger, pain, and something else I couldn’t name. For a fleeting moment, his mask slipped, but the walls came crashing back just as quickly.
“Drop it, Amaya,” he said, his voice low and edged with warning as he turned away again.
“No,” I said, my tone unwavering despite the c***k I felt deep inside. “I won’t.”
The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, and I waited, hoping for something—anything—but he offered nothing.
Finally, I sighed, letting my hand fall to my side. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But don’t expect me to stop looking for answers. If you won’t trust me, I’ll find out on my own.”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around.
I slipped the emblem back into my pocket, the weight of it heavier now. “You might think you’re protecting me by keeping me in the dark, but you’re not. You’re just pushing me further away.”
With that, I turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind me.
The corridor felt colder, the weight of his refusal pressing down on me. The bastard refused to give me answers. Does he even know who I am? The more he stonewalls me, the more I want to pry open those damn walls and drag the truth out of him.
Why does it hurt so much?
It should be what I needed—my exit window, my chance to walk away. But instead, his silence only makes me want to shatter it.
Why isn’t this bond affecting him like it’s affecting me? Isn’t it supposed to be mutual? How can he dismiss me so easily, as though this connection we share is nothing more than an inconvenience?
It hurt—more than I wanted to admit. It shouldn’t have been enough to make my traitorous heart ache, but it did. And now, every part of me was a slave to something beyond reason or logic.
But if he thought I’d give up, he didn’t know me at all.
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- Writer
