Awakening (2 book series)
Awakening – Rejected Mate Chapter 51

"Not hidden away in the west wing anymore? I ask quietly, sounding as somber as his mood, looking for something to engage him in conversation with, because I literally feel his intentions of sneaking away and leaving me to my new room, and it sucks. He's

disconnecting form me, shutting me out and it's shredding my soul to pieces a sit becomes clear that's what he's doing.

"He wasn't happy that I decided you should be among the rest of us, and part of this pack, seeing as he's trying to unite the mountain. Convinced him your showdown was under better control and wouldn't happen again." Colton avoids my eye, obviously not really telling me everything that was said. "And he gave in, just like that?" I hate the fact that I can sense he's being evasive and keeping things from me.

"Not exactly. Sometimes I'm good at arguing my corner. Sometimes..." Colton looks away, seemingly defeated as though tonight has taken a toll on him. Whatever was said to his father, I can sense his strained emotion, and weary mood coming at me like a fog the longer we stand here.

"Just tell me... I'm a big girl, I can take it." I sigh, desperate with a raw, pleading tone, letting my frustration out, and I catch the flicker of hesitation before he sighs.

"He doesn't care that you have a special gift. He wouldn't entertain the topic. Shut me down and bombarded me with his disappointment in my lack of putting my pack, and my responsibility, first." His crestfallen face and the surge of pain that hits me in the chest tells me his father's words wounded him. It serves to remind me though, that this is not all about him doing the right thing, it's also about pleasing someone he looks up to and loves and has always obeyed. As he's meant to.

He swings the door open and steps aside, making it clear he's depositing me like a gentleman, and nothing else. He's done talking about this and he isn't going to argue about it either. No usual Colton touchy feely, no intimacy, or any kind of anything. He just steps back and holds it wide as the lights flicker on automatically. Putting space between us and fixing a look on me that screams more of commander, than boy that loves me. He's closing off, shutting me out and my heart starts to bleed.

"If you need anything, then mind link me. There's food in your room, I had it put here before I came to the communal. Enjoy your dinner and get some rest. I'll come for you at dawn." It's empty and devoid of emotion. He moves to leave as I step inside but panic grips a sudden response out of me. That churning nausea that he's being like this, slicing at my guts and ripping my soul in two.

"Colton... what have I done?" I blurt it out like a needy sad Carmen type, and he pauses, frowns, stopping mid step and turns back at me with a very noticeable wince of pain flashing across his face. It kills some of the sterile stance and he seems to sag a little. "You haven't done anything. It's me. My father wants me to stand up and take my place. He wants me to mark Carmen at the next moon and resolve what he calls, our little issue. Nothing I say makes a difference, he won't bend, so maybe it's better for us to keeps our distance and hope that something changes, or that my marking her kills our bond." He's deflated, as broken as he's making me, looking so much younger and vulnerable than his years in this moment, and giving up so easily. My instinct is to get mad and yell at him, like I've done so many times already in our short acquaintance, but my plan of earlier pushes through, reminding me that he's lost and set afloat right now. He's in pain too, and struggling to navigate it as much as I am. So much weighing on his shoulders that I don't understand and can't see.

I need to bring him in and secure him to my harbor. Stop letting him pull all the ropes alone, stop expecting him to sail against the storm without direction, making all the moves. Don't push, even if my instinct is to feel disappointed in him and seethe with anger. I need to stop, breathe, and look at him another way. As someone who needs gentle coaxing and nurturing. He's stubborn, he's bound by duty, but I have his heart, all of it, and I need to help that power grow from inside out.

I lower my tone, gently whispering as I cross towards him, fighting my own nerves and inexperience, and putting faith in the fact I know he loves me. Taking my cue from Meadow.

I step across the gap and raise myself on tip toes to reach him, laying one hand flat on his muscular chest, and lifting the other to his jaw gently. Eyes resting on his, locking onto him the way that always does and makes me feel safe. My own heart swelling, my body tinging with the nearness of him.

"Don't give up on us." I breathe it out, almost against his lips, I get so close. Insides somersaulting with the need to kiss him. I run my fingers up his cheek and cup his face, pulling him close, so softly, my mouth grazes his lips and I feel him physically sag into my touch, needily. Melting against my briefest connection, his pupils dilating as I bring his forehead to mine. No matter what he says, or how he acts, his truth is always in our touch, and he cannot deny the affect is has on both of us. That need to fluidly pour into one another and inability to fight when we touch.

"I'm not worthy of you.... Today showed me that." It's husky, strained, and low. It's self-pity and exhaustion. Defeat, because his father's knocked him down once more, and left him reeling from cruel words. I refuse to accept what he's saying as truth to what he's feeling, and instead of anger, I lean up and press my lips gently to his. Startling him with the sudden contact and refusing to back down.

It takes a second of pause, his body going rigid before he relaxes, pushes his face forward to fully kiss me and his hand comes to slide around the back of my neck as he takes over. It doesn't take much to ignite fire in him and I groan as he gives me what I'm yearning for.