Breathing heavily, the walk back to my cottage felt longer than usual, my lungs burning from having to walk. The feeling surprises me. My body is used to this walk, as I take this route several times a day.
My abilities help me, but it seems like my Omega is weakening. I feel exhausted and my muscles ache as though I've run a marathon, but I have done nothing.
In the privacy of my cottage, with nothing to distract me, it starts again. The words torment me as I remember the look of disgust on his face.
"I could never love you!"
The words bounce around my brain, sending my mind spiraling. My head is spinning as my hands move up to my head, pulling on my hair. I spin around the room, hoping to find where the voice is coming from, but I am alone and unwanted as always.
"I could never love you!"
The words flash through my mind again, my body sinking to the ground as the idea of being unwanted by my mate sends my mind into turmoil.
My body is unsure of how to handle the pain of being distant from him. And Derek is trying to avoid me, to avoid our natural bond, a bond that I never asked for and one I cursed him with.
"I could never love you!"
"Stop it," I say, my eyes searching around the room as I look for where the voice is coming from.
"I could never love you!"
The look of disgust on Derek's face flashes through my mind as well this time, the way his face distorted as a sneer formed on his lips at the idea of me being his mate. It feels like I'm being stabbed in the heart. Pain coursing through my body, the feeling making me lightheaded.
"I could never love you!"
My mind torments, the image of him kissing Medeia flashing in my mind, my hand reaching towards the blade in my pocket. Knowing it is the only way to deal with the pain. The pain of being unwanted again. The idea causes me to work quicker. Taking my jumper off and baring my arms, porcelain skin covered in scars. "I need to stop it," I frantically say.
"I could never love you!"
Flashes through my mind and with it I see my father's face, his look of disgust as he tells me the same words.
I bring the knife down onto my left arm, piercing into the skin as I move the knife from one side to the next. The sharp blade easily slices through like a hot blade through butter.
Pain fills my body in a euphoria, I gasp at the sensation of finally feeling something other than the sense of being numb.
"I could never love you!"
A young Jacob's face flashes through my mind this time. I put more pressure on the knife. The red fluid oozes out of the cuts, dripping onto the tile, creating a puddle. My eyes move between the drops of blood, my wrist, and the knife in my hand.
I cover the blade with my blood, but as I hold it up to stare at it; I see sparks in its reflection. A pretty mix of pinks and oranges that are distorted with streaks of my blood, ruining the fairy-tale aspect of the confusing reflection.
"What the fuck?" I say, letting a laugh escape me as I focus on the reflection, wondering if I have completely lost my mind.
I'm distracted by the reflection, distracted from my pain as I watch it disappear as quickly as it came. I wait, hoping to see another one, this time blue with hints of green. A loud boom follows the changing reflections, allowing me to identify it.
I turn my head, looking out the window to see fireworks shooting into the sky as it explodes, the loud sound ringing in my ears and the idea of why causes my focus to return to my knife.
My hand gripping the handle tighter. My knuckles turning white as I bring it up again, this time cutting up from my wrist towards my elbow. Groaning at the feeling but welcoming the sting of pain that flows afterwards. I close my eyes and tilt my head back as I embrace the feeling. As if I finally got the high, I've been chasing for so long.
The celebratory sounds coming from the party confirm my suspicion that my mate doesn't want to be with me. So, I will do him and the world a favor. After all, the only thing that will be less painful than the rejection would be dying. Hopefully after tonight, that will be accomplished.so, I can feel nothing.
I stare at my cuts, watching the blood run down my arm. My ringtone breaks my trance. I jump at the sound, hardly ever hearing it unless it was an emergency.
Garett's name flashes across the screen, and without a thought, I answer. I have been ignoring him for a few days now.
"Ana, are you okay?" his voice is full of panic and worry as he speaks.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I ask, my hand putting my phone on speaker as I glance at the knife to my right, hoping my voice stays steady.
"Well, Medeia is saying some things about you at school, and I just wanted to check on you," he says.
I feel warmth spread through my chest at the thought of this Omega caring so much for me, but ice fills my veins as I sigh, already wondering what nasty words she could say about me now and the idea of having to face her vicious words and the aftermath that follows from it.
"What did she say?" I ask so softly that at first, I don't think Garett heard, but after a few minutes, a sigh sounds through the phone, letting me know he heard the rumors.
"Are you sure you… " he starts.
"Just tell me," I all but growl out as I interrupt him, my annoyance seeping through his concern for me and my need to know, what Medeia has been saying about me now.
Another sigh comes through the phone. "Well- uh- she said you were trying to seduce Derek in the girl's bathroom the other day. Practically throwing yourself at him, no matter how many times he said no to you," he says.
"Apparently, she walked in on you swearing at him when he denied you, and that the only way she could get you to listen was by slapping you," he continues.
I groan, remembering how it looked when she walked in, and I remember I swore at him. But why did she change the story like that? I can imagine all the names I will be called now, and how the death stares will come my way as people associate me with death and now being a whore.
"Listen Garett, I didn't do any of that–well, I swore at him–but I would never…" I say, my voice weak and full of exhaustion, I don't know why I feel the need to explain it to him but I know that if I at least have one person who believes me, it would be enough.
"I know, Ana, I didn't phone to check if you actually did it. I know you and I know you aren't like that. I phoned because I was worried about you and if you were okay," he says calmly.
His voice calms me, making me feel as though there is someone in this world who cares about me, even if it is slight.
"Oh, well thank you, Garett, I appreciate it," I reply, the ends of my mouth moving upward at the idea of someone caring for me.
"How was your day?" I ask, wanting to talk to him some more.
I shift on the floor, and I lie on the tiles. My arm across my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling consumed in the conversation with Garett.
My mind focusing on his voice, not feeling the sting of the wrist. My cuts are still oozing blood. My mind did not notice I was still bleeding. My body would have healed itself by now, at least to a point where my blood stops streaming down my limbs.
Instead, my eyes close, listening to Garett as he talks about his day.