The Exiled Alpha | ✓

23 | Things Changed

"Adrienne. Look at me."

Even if I hadn't turned my cheek to him, I wouldn't be able to see him. Unshed tears turn my vision watery and staring at the tiles on the floor has become a key objective in keeping them just that: unshed.

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about it."

I wait for his outraged objection. For another outburst maybe, telling me how stupid I am and how only a crazy person would do what I used to. After all, only someone who's insane would harm themselves, right? That's what they all say at least.

My blurry eyes widen when strong arms wrap themselves around my shoulders. When my face meets his warm, inviting chest, the dam breaks like a piece of glass. Tears flow silently down my cheeks, soaking into his dark shirt.

Damn it! Hatred for myself bubbles up in my stomach, rising until there's a lump in my throat. I thought I was over this. I thought I'd finally beat myself at this stupid game, but that's all just proving to be a hopeful mirage.

My time in the cell is over. My time at Visari is over. So why does the aftermath still follow me?

Riot tries to pull me off of him but I cling on tighter. I shake my head and mumble a stuffy "no."

He tries again, this time with more determination. Once plucked off his chest, I sit there staring at him miserably.

I don't even want to imagine what I look like right now. A puffy face smeared with tears. Red, glassy eyes that only inspire pity.

With one swift movement he brushes my hair over my head. Taking away my last resort of concealment. I feel so exposed right now that even running naked through the streets wouldn't even compare. I'd kill to be able to shove these tears back in their ducts and put on a mask to hide what's under the surface. But that's not an option.

His expression is solemn. Unreadable. But his voice is gentle, nothing like how it was moments ago.

"Tell me why," he says, just above a whisper.

I let out a small laugh along with a shrug. "I don't know. I was locked up so it was a distraction."

He goes rigid.

I've said too much.

"Locked up?" He growls, raising an eyebrow.

I wave dismissively. I don't want his wolf back. And that subject is the perfect bait for it.

His obsidian irises never wager. They stare holes into me until I finally give a reluctant sigh. My explanation is kept short. "Every time I mouthed off or did something wrong Alpha Andre would lock me in an underground cell and order the pack to shun me when I got out."

A sharp crack sounds out as the marble countertop beside my leg breaks off into pieces and clatters to the floor under his hand. His eyes are squeezed shut, as if he's stuck in his own livid head.

I'm so tired. The old emotion of dealing with dead demons has drained me and now Riot's very much alive one is stirring again; his wolf.

I lazily lean forward and toss my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Please don't," I beg.

The inconstant vibrations from his growling stop and he goes still within my hug. I hear him suck in a sharp breath through his nose. Other than that, he doesn't move. It's as if his muscles have turned to stone beneath his skin.