Chapter 2 : Of Heartbreak and Rejections
Ai had originally thought that the love that she had held for him would be enough to stop her tormented heart from breaking each time he walked away with another women.
Yet it wasn’t.
She had saved him, breathed life into him, yet only other women could satisfy him.
Only they could give him life since she could not anymore. It was ironic that this love had turned to loathing and hate as quick as it had, fairly similar to a back hand to the face with how quickly the tables turned. And she couldn’t change it no matter how hard she tried.
And it stung her.
It hurt her severely, alike to having a dull knife saw back and forth along her wrists until she bled, slowly and forcefully. And she knew that he took great pleasure in seeing her suffer before him. bleeding internally from inner turmoil.
She deserved it.
Ai felt tears well along her lashes, soaking them with its bitterness as they drip down her pale cheeks and plopped onto her cold palms with a warmth that wasn’t possible. Her tapered fingers curled into a fist while amethyst eyes blinked blankly at the scent of hot warm blood that filled the air and called to her even from the distance away.
He always wanted fresh blood and that was why he lured all those women here.
The blood bags never sated him enough like it had for her. So she was frozen with her back turned each time he led another women down the darkened halls and their foot steps were satiric to her ears like the grating of nails on a chalkboard when they walk past her. Then, she was waiting patiently as the sounds of their gasping moans and pleasure induced cries scattered all across the walls of their empty house.
Grayson took delight in fucking each of his conquest instead of getting to the point because he knew it tore her apart at the seams each time, knew that it drove her to the point of insanity when he did it.
And she knew he enjoyed it, reveled in it, with each fiber of his being.
The searing ache and gnawing pain was quick to bite across her flesh like piranhas circling the water to take chunks from her arms and legs where ever it could. Even her even breathing had become slightly labored, sweat gradually collecting on her temples to wet the sides of her face like tears raining down.
It was over.
Yet why, why did she continue to love him?
Why did she torment herself this way?
She had asked herself this many times before, but each time she came out empty handed and with far more excuses for his behavior than she needed.
Her long sooty lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, long nails biting into the flesh of her palms and she didn’t even realize how hard she had clenched her fist when black blood seeped through the little crescents her nails dug. There was a bitterness that tainted her tongue. It felt like she had swallowed a gallon of holy water and she couldn’t get the taste out of her mouth as it burned down her throat.
She knew Grayson Smith was a smart man. He always had been before the mishap and so she knew that he had kept her around him just close enough to feel the bond burn like acid when he was with other woman.
He wanted her to feel pain, to suffocate and hurt for the sins that she had made against him.
But she couldn’t walk away.
She didn’t have the will to walk away.
Her demented head kept telling her that he would change, that he was only hurting and he didn’t know another way to let the pent up frustration out.
It kept telling her he would stop torturing her, stop hurting her, and stop killing her slowly on the inside with his own brand of deadly poison.
And she believed it.
When she finally found out it wasn’t her head that was feeding her these thoughts, it was too late.
She had sunken too far into its trap.
Her mind knew it was the damned mate bond.
Had she not been so adamant about true love, about mating for life, than she would never be in this mess. The mate bond was always existent, pulsing and tightening whenever she was around him. It made her want to touch him, need to kiss away his sorrows and hug him to her chest to tell him that it will all be okay, that she would never hurt him.
Because of it, she had given him unconditional love and unconditional understanding no matter how he trampled all over her terribly fragmented heart and smiled brokenly through it.
But she couldn’t keep doing that.
He wouldn’t let her even if she did want to continue throwing her heart under his feet to be stepped on.
Because he was repulsed by her to the point that just smelling her scent made him sick to his stomach. And he kept pushing her away.
He had called her a parasite and several other indignities that shouldn’t be repeated.
But she didn’t save him in spite. Not because of his repulsion to her kind. Not because he loathed her.
She only wanted to save him.
Why couldn’t she get that through to him?
She loved him.
Or at least she thought she loved him, she never did realize that this love was fake, only fabricated by the mate bond until she was completely blinded by these false feelings.
It made her long to feel his touch, to have him reciprocate these feelings, yet it was only fooling her.
He was disgusted with her and it tormented her to know that.
She wanted to hate him, loath him like he loathed her but she couldn’t.
When he had rejected her, she had wanted to scream into his face that she accepted his rejection but nothing would come out. All the words were stuck in her throat.
Her mouth felt like she had liquid quicksand in it and she only stood stunned, hands clenched at her sides while her face was blank of emotion.
She was too weak to break their bond, too weak to accept his rejection.
It had taken a lot of effort in order not to break down crying in front of him.
Was she not good enough for him?
Not pretty enough?
Not smart or strong enough?
Why did he reject her?
After that confrontation, she had avoided him for weeks, hiding in her room while he laughed at her misery. He took great pleasure in her pain, never bothering to hide his satisfaction when she couldn’t barely move after the rejection and him being with many many woman for days on end after that.
She had wanted to claw her heart out of her chest from the torture he was gifting her, his precious soul mate, but could only weakly gasp for air, choking from the searing pain of it all.
Her dark sooty lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes in remembrance.
She had wanted someone to share all these gruesomely long years with. When Grayson Smith finally showed up in her existence, she was thoroughly blinded by the fact that he was her beloved, that this was the person made specifically for her and only her. She had become blind sighted by his presence.
And he was the only person that remained level headed through out this whole encounter. Grayson didn’t love her and he didn’t try to conceal it from her. He deemed her unworthy to be at his side, to be his Alpha Female at first sight because of whom and what she was.
And she knew.
He had never intended to make her his Alpha Female, after all, he was werewolf and she was vampire, his people loathed her kind.
How could he turn his back to his own people for a creature like her?
She felt a tear drip down her cold cheeks, felt her tears drown out her sorrow, felt her heart break apart under the nights waning moon.
She had cried a long time when she came to that realization.
There was too much difference between them and all of it kept them apart. In a sense, she was a Capulet and he was a Montague.
Grayson was warm and she was cold. He was funny and charming while she wasn’t. Although he didn’t like her kind, he still treated her rather kindly, always very formal and polite. He had offered her a place in his pack to which she had accepted promptly, to which she quickly became remorseful of her hasty decisions.
Everything went down hill from there when his girlfriend fought with her. In fact, everyone in the pack fought with her and looked down on her.
Gradually, Grayson had started to change.
He was no longer the same man that she had first met.
He no longer held that warmth that she had loved so much, no longer had that kindness and patience for her.
She had been the one to kill that off. How could she forget?
God, how she regretted that.
How did he expect her to just leave him to drown in that puddle of his own blood, to die arms length away from her? How cruel did he think she was?
She wasn’t heartless.
Not towards him.
Never towards the one she was destined for, never towards the one she lived for, breathed for.
She was created for him as he was the same for her.
He was her missing puzzle piece, the part of her that she couldn’t live without.
But he didn’t feel their soul bond, didn’t feel how her soul called to his, didn’t feel her sorrow at being separated from him.
How could he not feel how she felt?
She was starting to believe that the one heartless was not her.
He had even called her a monster, had told her something dead like her didn’t have a heart.
It was true.
She was dead, but why did her heart beat so strongly for him?
How could she explain the loud thundering in her ears, the strong palpitating of her heart when he was close to her, when she could smell his musky scent and see his handsome face.
Grayson always held her at arms length after everything.
Denying her of the affection that she had so long dreamed of.
What was the meaning of soul mates if not for there to be unconditional love, unconditional understanding towards each other?
He had denied her of that.
He had crushed her hopes and her dreams.
He had destroyed everything that she thought would be her salvation.