Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 270

Ch.40

Noah

What the fuck am I doing? Who even am I?

I never dreamed I’d be the kind of guy who torments a woman just to watch her squirm, in a non-sexy way at least. But then again, I never thought I’d be the guy whose mate rejected him either. That kind of pain changes you.

I knew she was watching me with Piper. And I knew seeing us together was painful for her, could smell it in the way her scent curdled. Just knowing should have been enough. I didn’t have to tell her I knew, taunt her with it.

But it wasn’t enough so I did it anyway. Then I watched it land, saw the impact of it on her face before she could hide it from me. And I liked knowing I hurt her too.

Now, though, I have to live with myself, live with being the kind of man who likes it. I’ve been hurting someone on purpose and finding it less satisfying than I expected but satisfying enough to be uncomfortable with it.

And yet, knowing that about myself doesn’t change anything.

Even knowing Cassandra isn’t the only victim in my quest for revenge doesn’t lessen my need to seek it. The corridor conversation with Piper has been playing on a loop in my head since it happened.

There’s nothing happening. I said it and meant it-there is nothing happening, I haven’t touched Cassandra, haven’t pursued anything, there is no situation between us in any formal sense of the word situation. Technically, I didn’t lie.

That’s not the same as there being nothing. A truth I could have but didn’t admit to. I didn’t correct her because correcting her would have required explaining what exactly there is. And I’m not ready to explain it to myself, let alone to her.

I owe Piper something. It’s a debt I’ve been reluctant to pay. Maybe it’s time.

All of that self-talk, and the best of intentions, lasts exactly until the next time I see her. Then I do it all over again.

Tonight we’re hosting a pack gathering in the main hall. Piper is here as my date, her arm around my waist, plastered to my side with my arm draped over her shoulders. Anyone who looks at us would have no doubt we’re together.

I’m aware, from the bond’s ambient awareness and the occasional waves of her scent, that Cassandra is somewhere in the room. I position myself at the front of the room, in clear view of everyone, and I lean toward Piper. I’m completely aware that all eyes are on me as I pull her toward me and run my nose along her jaw to the sensitive place behind her ear. Especially hers.

This time, Cassandra doesn’t look away. She holds my gaze, letting me see the hurt and regret on her face. Almost like she knows I want it and she’s giving it to me in payment of her own debt.

But I see something else written there too. It’s recognition. Clear-eyed, direct recognition. I see what you’re doing, her expression says.

Still, I don’t stop doing it.

But something in having it named-even without words-changes the pleasure I derive from it. She knows I want to hurt her, even if the affection I’m showing Piper is real-and maybe it is, I’m not sure-she knows I want her to see it. I know that and I do it anyway, which tells me something about myself I’m not entirely comfortable with.

The party is in full swing and everyone wants to talk with the new Alpha. Most of them want to pry into my relationship with Piper, probing for hints that they might have a new Luna soon. After an hour or so of twenty questions, I need a breather.

I’ve just escaped into the hall when I catch Cassandra coming out of the hall bathroom. I look around but there’s no one else here. Just us.

“Enjoying the show?” I ask, the smirk on my face telling her I already know the answer.

She looks at me without flinching, her spine stiff and her shoulders squared. “Is it a show?”

1/2

“What would you call it?”

+15 Bonus

“If you care for her, why do you need an audience?” she snaps, and I’m not sure if she’s angry at me or for Piper.

I don’t have a clean answer to that “You tell me.”

She looks at me steadily-the assessment she brings to everything, I recognize it from watching her look for ways to manipulate Jaxon.

“I think,” she answers slowly, like just saying the words is painful, “you want me to hurt.” Not an accusation, just observation.

I lean in close to whisper in her ear, humming in approval when I notice her shiver. “Is it working?”

She leans away to look at me, her whole face flushed from my nearness. And I hate that she looks so fucking beautiful like that. Yes.” She answers breathily, the scent of her arousal filling the air.

For a moment I feel drunk by it-the heat of her body close to mine and the heally fragrance of her desire wafting in the air- and something in my chest does a thing I don’t want to name.

Then her expression smooths over, like a veil dropping between us. “Does that make you feel better?” she asks.

I don’t look away while I consider my response. The honest answer is: I don’t know. The honest answer is: less than I expected. The honest answer is: I can’t stop noticing that you’re not looking away.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I settle on a version of the truth.

She nods but holds my gaze, and neither of us seem ready to break it. My eyes drop to her lips, so full and pink, impossibly soft. I find myself leaning in until the sound of a throat clearing startles me.

“Hey, Cassie. Sorry to interrupt.” Jack, one of my warriors, walks straight over to her like he belongs beside her. “You promised me a dance and I think the music is ending soon.”

“You’re not interrupting.” She smiles softly at him, gently patting his unnaturally large bicep. “Let’s go have that dance.”

“Great!” He beams at her, looking at me as an afterthought. “Oh, hey, Alpha. See you later.”

She walks away with him and I watch her go. My wolf is raging inside my head, demanding I stop him from touching what’s ours, Mine. It feels like being stabbed in the chest with an ice pick and no, the irony that I’ve been doing the same to her isn’t

lost on me.

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