Chapter Forty Two

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There was a small blizzard in his eyes as they finally turned and settled fully on me.

The gaze shook me up a little, as though his eyes wanted to turn me inside out right in front of him, in the middle of the room. My breath shuddered.

It seemed like an hour before I was finally released, as he wrestled his gaze under wraps and sank back down quietly, his brows furrowed, unblinkingly staring at the plate.

But even in his quietness, the amount of energy that rolled off of him was suffocating, it was felt in the room.

"You done eating?" Bazile asked me slyly.

I wasn't sure what the correct reply to that was.

I needed to go over to him, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that a part of me saw that predatory gaze and instinctively felt like running for my life. 

"Empty plate. I think you are." He grabbed my arm and yanked me up.

The power that they had still threw me off guard, I'd never had anyone able to, or willing to, throw me around like these werewolves felt was necessary.

I struggled to my feet and felt mute as he dragged me toward the exit of the dining room.

I had to drag my gaze away from him.

Should I have said anything?

How does one declare that the bite didn't mean anything? Because that was what I felt like I ought to be saying but I didn't totally understand why. Maybe Bazile had a book on basic werewolf biology, I thought as I stumbled after him toward the door.

Just before we left I heard something crunch and snap so loudly it made me jump and as I looked behind me I saw the marble splitting along the edges of the table, chunk of it splintering like chalky glass. 

The entire room was watching Lowell, who kept his gaze on the table, his face didn't look as pissed off as the aura he gave off expressed, and the massive crack through the end of the table suggested. He closed  his eyes, a vein near his left eye pulsing as he slowly opened his eyes.

I wasn't breathing, I'd forgotten to, I only remembered because his brother yanked me out of the room and shut the door behind me and then I followed him, unthinkingly.

I felt shaken and awkward, dragging my feet after him, saw the slight smile on his lips but was too busy remembering the look on Lowell's face.

He didn't look betrayed, he looked like he was holding back something.

The thing was the moment he slowly opened up his eyes again I thought I saw a glimpse of it calmly showing its fangs, quietly, but clearly.

I shuddered.



~⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣~



Bazile laughed heartily as he watched me where I had sat down in the sofa chair in his room, unwilling to move. I couldn't, because every ten seconds there was a new blistering wave of heat that was so strong it nearly bowed me over.

Overwhelming seemed like such a minimalizing word to describe it. I could barely breathe as I tried with all my self to keep calm, to keep a somewhat good posture, to appear unfazed.

But I needed to use more scent disguiser, I knew that, I was sweating, and I could only imagine that was where the scent they spoke about came from. At this point going to the bathroom would be the best option for me, but I didn't trust my legs. If I walked, what would happen if I ended up crawling on the floor, unable to get any further?

The Sensible One (boyxboy) ✓Where stories live. Discover now