Chapter 9 - Cecelia #2
My eyes flit to the broken screen, the cracked glass reflecting the way my heart had shattered three years ago. Dominic Rivera is an egotistical maniac who only cares about one thing—winning. And he won't bat an eye when he breaks whatever stands in his way.
A surge of anger rushes through me, curling my fists at my sides at Dominic's cruel behavior.
He has no right to be angry with me!
I was only trying to help, against my better judgment, because I didn't want any part of this to begin with. He didn't listen to me, and that's why he lost.
Huffing through flaring nostrils, my eyes narrow as I turn toward the cabins, marching forward to unleash havoc on the man who couldn't, even once, subdue his ego. I've built up enough courage for this moment, and I'm not going to let him get away with this.
I make it to the cabin just as I hear the faint sound of squeaky hinges scraping from somewhere inside. Throwing the door open, I step inside with purposeful stomps, wanting to make sure he knows I mean business.
“What the hell was that about?!” I roar bitterly as I shut the door behind me with an equally powerful bang.
Dominic turns around slowly, holding a glass full of amber liquor that he hasn't yet sipped from.
“I failed,” he murmurs defeatedly as he hangs his head in shame. “I failed the test.”
“We failed the test, Dominic!” I spit back venomously as I stalk forward until I'm at the kitchen table.
Pure, unabashed rage fills my gut, spreading out through every fiber of my being until all I see is red, even while I glare at him.
His face is a blur, but it's the only image I can focus on right now as uncontrollable anger surges through my body.
“We're supposed to be a team, but you didn't listen to me!” I snap spitefully.
Dominic lifts earnest, apologetic eyes to my face, his bottom lip quivering.
“I know, Cecelia. I failed to listen to you, and I'm sorry for what happened out there.”
Too enraged to hear his apology, I slam a fist against the tabletop, hearing the creak of metal against the wooden floorboards as the table's legs cry out in horror.
I have no idea what's coming over me until the hot feeling of anger remains pulsing in my core, filled with awareness and torturous pain I've never felt before.
Wincing when the pain that just came out of nowhere explodes in my insides, I grunt as I try to remain steady on my feet.
“You have no right to be angry with me for failing the test! You didn't listen!” I continue spewing.
Dominic sighs, seemingly oblivious to the gnawing ache clawing through my insides as he calmly sets his glass down and strolls over to the table.
“I know, Cecelia. And I'm truly sorry about what happened. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself for being a bastard out there.”
My rage-filled eyes meet the warmer depths of his caramel-glazed orbs, and I can feel the sincerity in his words. But it does little to quell the anger bubbling inside me, and I whimper when the pain knocks me over.
Grabbing the edges with both hands to keep myself steady, I ride out the wave of torment as my face contorts with the pain I’m enduring, and I purse my lips to stifle the urge to cry out in terror.
Dominic steps closer, placing an uninvited hand on my shoulder that gets flung away when I shrug him off and turn vile eyes of accusation on him.
“Don’t touch me!” I warn, a guttural groan following the threat as my eyes become full of blistering heat.
That heat is surging through me now, igniting every nerve-ending in my limbs until I can’t see straight.
“Hng!” I cry out in pain, but Dominic doesn’t move away.
Through the haze of my vision, I’m able to faintly make out the expression on his face, his brows knitted to a frown as his eyes widen and turn into deep pools of dark brown.
“Cecelia…you’re in heat…” he murmurs, but I’m too wound up by the torrent of pain rushing through me to respond in time.
Another burst of electric current rushes through me, gripping my insides with unbearable pain. The torture is worse than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I cave over the table, my tight black curls curtaining over my face as I writhe and squirm in pain.
The curtain of hair parts just as the burst of pain settles in the pit of my belly.
Dominic’s gesture as he tucks my hair behind my ear feels oddly comforting.
I clamp my thighs shut when the ache in my belly slips down to my core, igniting a sudden onset of heated awareness as soon as our eyes meet.
I’m stunned into momentary paralysis, struck by the profound healing I feel in his eyes. My brows knit as I stare at him as if he’s the only one who has answers, and that’s when he gently says, “I can help you, Cecelia. I can help you take the pain away.”
“How…?” I whisper disbelievingly, and Dominic comes closer, his natural warmth enveloping me like arms of comfort.
“You’re in heat, Cecelia,” he repeats, as if that explains everything. “There’s only one way to cure it.”
As Dominic stares back at me, his brows lifted as he waits for my response, realization dawns on me and has me peeling my sweaty cheek off the table and backing away slowly, steadily, until my back hits the wall.
I feel my eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck that’s coming full speed toward me.
But the fear is a tangible construct in the pit of my belly, threatening to burst out with more pain again.
There’s only one way a she-wolf’s heat can be cured. It would mean having that T-shirt ripped off again, but it’s already become my hard armor to keep me protected from him.
Shaking my head slowly, I raise a trembling hand in front of me.
“No,” I say bluntly. “We’re not doing that.” We’re not sleeping together again.