Chapter 9 - Cecelia
I hold my breath as I hear Dominic entering the cabin, his footsteps hard to ignore when the floorboards creak under his weight. Once I hear the bathroom door open and close, I let out a drawn-out breath, my body slumping beneath the weight of having to wear a mask of indifference toward him.
He has no idea how affected I was, watching him succeed in today’s trials without flinching. If it wasn’t for how much I hate him, I might have even enjoyed the show and thought that he was hot.
“Get it together, Cece,” I murmur under my breath, gripping the edges of the kitchen counter so tightly that my tanned skin pales over my knuckles.
I shouldn’t be letting him get to my head, but it’s nearly impossible to keep my wits about me when Dominic Rivera is the epitome of a masculine werewolf.
It’s not like he needed my help in any way, and this leads me to wonder why he’d been adamant to keep me around to complete the trials. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, watching him in his natural element and drooling over him as if the past means nothing.
It doesn’t help that he chased me down after the trial and waited for me to congratulate him. Just what is he playing at? Does he think that the past means nothing? That I've forgotten all about it as if he didn't break my heart?
You don’t forget the first time someone you trusted looked right through you.
Especially when everyone else was laughing.
What hurt more than his rejection that morning, three years ago, was his silence when the others were mocking me.
That broke my heart and ripped it to shreds even tinier than the broken pieces they were that morning.
That very heart pounds now, and I have to take a moment to gather my composure before I check the cabinet for a quick snack. Maybe if I stuffed my face, I would become distracted enough that I'd stop thinking about Dominic and how delicious he looked performing those tasks in today's trial.
I grab a bag of chips out of the cabinet, dragging my feet across the floor until I'm in the living area, where I can plop myself on a couch.
I pop open the chips bag and grab a handful of crispy, salty goodness, about to shove it into my mouth, when the bathroom door opens to a loud screech of the metal hinges.
A trickle of awareness runs down my spine as I sniff the warm air that wafts out of the bathroom, filled with cedarwood and citrus notes from the soap Dominic used to shower.
But when he steps out, a gentle gust of air carries with it his intrinsic, minty scent that has my insides twisting with recognition.
Deep breaths, Cece, I remind myself. The only trouble with that gentle reminder is that the deep breaths only serve to fill my lungs with the scent that grows stronger as I'm alerted to Dominic passing the living room on his way to the kitchen.
The moment I lay eyes on him, I forget how to breathe altogether.
He only wears a towel hanging on his hips, his skin beaded with droplets of fresh water that add an almost glittery sparkle to his warm olive flesh.
It becomes impossible not to gawk at his perfect proportions, the muscles on his back flexing with each step he takes.
He heads to the cabinet, an arm extending toward the door to show off the biceps on his arm, and a shoulder that's filled out with more muscle than I remember from our night in the woods. I gulp hard, forgetting to stuff my face with chips when my eyes rake over his athletic frame.
My gaze cruises over the towel, and I catch a glimpse of the prominent bulge at the front, a sinful thought crossing my mind.
There's something better I'd like to stuff my face with…
The cabinet door slams shut, jolting me out of my daze and instantly lifting my eyes to see Dominic smirking coyly at me.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans a shoulder against the cabinet door. One corner of his mouth is arched in a simpering smirk, and he doesn't tend to his bag of chips, instead staring at me expectantly.
“I'm enjoying these chips,” I say, gesturing to my handful of chips and then proceeding to shove them into my mouth as I lean back and pretend that my heart isn't racing from ogling him in the towel that leaves little to the imagination.
“Sure,” he chuckles slyly as he peels himself from the kitchen cabinet and pads forward until he's in the living room.
Clamping my thighs where I'm seated on the couch, I try to control the baser urges swimming in my core, not wanting to move right now. With my spine ramrod straight, I keep a straight face as I swallow the chips that taste flavorless on my tingling tongue.
“Tomorrow's test is when we'll have to work as a team,” Dominic says as he casually sinks onto the longer couch across from me.
The furniture appears too small for his larger frame, his legs splayed out with one knee hooked over the armrest. I can't help but notice that the towel is parted too far, a bit of his thigh exposed to reveal the muscle covered in olive flesh and dark hair.
My mind races with filthy thoughts, but I can't help myself.
Being this close, I can't get him out of my head when his mere scent consumes me, everything about him reminding me of the sweetest pleasures he'd shown me in the past.
Gulping hard again, my breathing remains measured as I keep a straight face, even though I'm losing my mind. It's something I learned how to do when I needed to toughen up against the brutalities I faced in the pack, and even more so when Dominic rejected me, and I had to harden my heart.
“Then I should probably head to bed,” I say as I stand up slowly, dusting off the crumbs from my chest. When I look up, I notice Dominic's eyes lingering on my chest as if he's undressing me and ridding me of the oversized T-shirt I'm wearing.
I clear my throat and flatly say, “Goodnight, Dominic.”
“Goodnight, Cecelia,” he responds as I pass him, and I bolt for the bedroom where I can close the door behind me and let my emotions run rampant. Lugging in deep breaths to console myself, I can mentally feel my walls slipping away every time I'm near Dominic.
I hate that I feel this way, I hate that I'm forced to be his partner in the trials, and most of all, I hate him for ever breaking my pure heart.
Then why does he still affect me like this?
***
Standing behind a screen propped up by a tripod stand, I take a look around the field to collect information.
Today's test is a simulated battle on the field, with each team taking turns behind a screen to navigate the attack and position their simulated wolves to demonstrate their skills as an alpha and luna of the pack.
It's a test of strategy, and what it'll look like if the alpha and luna train their wolves in preparation for a battle.
Dominic and I are the last team to take the field, and we've had enough time to gauge the performances of the other teams. I look back at my screen and notice that Dominic has made some changes to the formation of wolves on the borders.
“Dominic,” I whisper to get his attention while he's focused on the screen, his tongue pressed to his cheek.
“Huh?” he responds without lifting his eyes from the screen, tapping and placing wolves across the field. Our screens are synced, so I can see exactly what he's doing. The countdown timer in the left corner says we only have thirty seconds to go before the battle begins, but he's missing something.
“The border,” I begin, clicking on the image of a group of five wolves. “Don't leave it open.”
Dominic shakes his head, clicking on the same group and sending them back to the field. “The enemy will come through the border regardless. Defense needs to be strong enough without forsaking the lives of border patrol.”
“If border patrol stays on the border, they can signal for the others the moment the enemy crosses into their territory.”
Dominic’s nostrils flare just as the bell rings out to signal the start of the battle. Sighing with exasperation, I meet his stern eyes briefly before he turns to the field. The projections of the simulated wolves come alive on the field as the enemy rushes in from the woods.
“I know what I'm doing,” Dominic says as he crosses his arms and watches the scene unfold before our eyes. “I've studied battle strategies.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn to watch the simulated battle play out.
Though it's imaginary, the wolves fighting on the field appear lifelike, and as they're injured or killed, the blood spraying across the field appears very real.
I flinch and wince as I watch the battle unfold, when I notice another group of enemy wolves entering from the side of the woods.
“Look!” I exclaim, slapping Dominic's arm. “The borders were open! That's how they got through!”
Dominic's eyes widen, the color draining from his face when he realizes that our pack has been overpowered by the enemy. Only a few more seconds go by before all the wolves of our pack are defeated, some injured, some taking their last breaths as the enemy is declared victorious.
Dominic turns wildly disbelieving eyes on me, his brows knitted into a furious scowl as Alpha Sirius announces the loss on the speakers. Simon is named the victor of today's game, while Santo and Alex are in second and third position with the points system.
My eyes remain on Dominic as he glares at me. I can hear the others rush to the field where they regroup to celebrate the victory of the day, but Dominic doesn't flinch as he keeps glaring at me.
The sting of his loss is evident in his eyes that darken ominously, and the only time he makes a move is to slam a fist at the screen, shattering the glass layer before he grunts and storms off.