Revolting

Chapter 4 -



Belatedly, I noted his brother. Both the Luna and Daisy and mentioned that there was a younger brother, William. William seemed to favor his mother's genetics. He was not as big or as intimidating as Nolan, His blond hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a more willowy, graceful figure. His eyes were very blue, and very amused. As much as his brother had eyed me with hatred, I had the distinct feeling that this one was laughing at me, and I didn't like it. If there is one thing I can not tolerate, its being laughed at.

I didn't worry about the younger brother for long, because the closer Nolan stalked, the stranger I began to feel. I felt like I couldn't get enough oxygen in my body, and I wondered if I might actually pass out. I'm not one of those weak, fainting girls. I've never passed out in my life. But at that moment I was seeing funny little black spots around the edge of my vision, and I was awfully dizzy.

"Nolan," Luna spoke, a sharp edge of disapproval in her voice, "Its nice of you to join us. I want you to meet Nina..." Nolan jerked out a chair, and instead of offering me a hand, or a greeting or a good old-fashioned "nice to meet you," he growled at me.

He growled at me, and my inner wolf whimpered. Mate. She whispered.

No. Oh no no no. This cold eyed, impolite Neanderthal of a man could not be our mate. My mind fought it even as my body responded to that god-damned pheromone he was pumping out. I looked him in the eye and I saw that he knew it too. And he had absolutely no intention of acknowledging it. He must have a hell of a lot of self control to be able to shrug off the mate bond, and slather butter on a piece of bread like nothing else mattered. He hates us. He doesn't want us.

I picked up my fork and tried to push my sluggish mind into some coherent thought. What were the odds that I get thrown into an arranged marriage, and the husband forced on me is actually my mate? Like one in a billion, right? But then what are the odds that I finally meet my mate, and he hates me? He hasn't said the words, but I can feel the aura of rejection wafting off of him almost as surely as I can smell his cedar-scent. How utterly cruel and unfair was that? Its like the universe having some great cosmic laugh at my expense. Well, what am I going to do? I'm not going to cry in front of all these people. Most importantly, I'm not going to cry in front of that insufferable man. I pushed my shoulders back, I shut off my whimpering wolf, I lifted my chin, and I looked him straight in the eye, as I took a bite of the lasagna. I'm sure it was as delicious as it smelled, but in that moment it tasted like dirt in my mouth. But I'd be damned if I let that man know that I had lost my appetite over him. I chewed and swallowed, and washed it down with a swig of water.

He met my eyes briefly, and then he turned to his brother and completely ignored me.

His brother however, at least had the decent manners to greet me, and to welcome me to the pack. His keen blue eyes traveled back and forth between his older brother, then across the table to me, and back again. Then he shrugged and dug into his food. He made polite conversation with his mother, and sometimes he included me. "How are you finding it here, Nina? Is your room comfortable? Do you need anything?"Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

"Oh yes, everything is great." I said, forcing more enthusiasm into my voice than I actually felt. Oh yes, everything is peachy. I've just been yanked out of my childhood home for the sake of some stupid treaty. Yes, your home is very nice, and most of the people have been very friendly, but the man I'm supposed to marry is a total dick. Everything is great. I forced myself to eat mechanically, and made it through half the lasagna on my plate before I gave up and sat back in my chair. I stared at Nolan. He looks like Jason Mamoa I thought. Without the beard and with better hair. I wonder if he had any tattoos hiding under his clothes. My sisters would be jealous... until they realized that he's an absolute tool. Dinner plates were cleared away, and I was eager to excuse myself, but before I could push away from the table, a decadent dessert of tiramisu was brought out. I was no longer hungry. Even the prospect of sugar wasn't appealing at the moment, but I was painfully aware that I was new, I was a guest, and I needed to behave accordingly. I took a couple of bites, and really wished I had the appetite to enjoy the dessert, but I was far too aware of the man across the table. It annoyed me that he was completely unaffected. He shoveled in his food, carried on conversation, and acted like I wasn't even there. When our eyes did meet, I was met with icy, angry daggers and some silent warning that I didn't really understand.

Finally, when I saw a few other people excusing themselves around the room, I saw my opportunity to escape. "Luna, thank you for a lovely meal," I said politely. "Please excuse me," I pushed back my chair, said goodnight to the rest of the table, and did my best to make a dignified exit, but it was getting harder and harder to walk normally and my stress and my exhaustion seemed to be compounding on me. But the absolute last thing I wanted at that moment was for that arrogant bastard to see that I had a fatal flaw. He already hated me for no reason, how much more would he despise me for my weakness?

I had just barely exited the room, when I felt an iron grip bite painfully into my arm, and spin me into the wall. If I hadn't had the support of the wall behind me, I would have fallen over myself. I found myself face to face with Nolan. Where his hand bit painfully into my arm, I felt the sparks. Oh Goddess the sparks that everyone made such a big deal over... they were magical, erotic, passionate, blah, blah. Well they probably never felt those sparks when their mate was squeezing the hell out of their arm, and probably leaving bruises in the process. They probably never felt those sparks when their mate was staring down at you like you were a piece of trash they'd like to throw in the compactor. Being sexually attracted to someone who was clearly out to hurt me did not feel magical. It felt sickening.


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