"I'm a psycho at the bottom of the pack, and you're a warrior built to kill. Isn't it a weird mix?"
He shrugs, a wicked grin plastered to his face.
"I think it's the perfect mix."
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*Completed *
Klepto is a werewolf, an...
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Klepto POV
I spend the rest of the day in my room, pondering the horrendous morning I had and trying to recover from it.
My eyes are glazed over with a film of despair as I stare up at the popcorn ceiling. My body is sprawled out on the top of my bed, arms folded serenely over my chest as if I'm ready to be buried in my grave.
Thoughts run rampant in my head, circulating around Ezra like he actually matters. I hate that stupid jerk so much.
I can't stop thinking about that damned kiss. My fingertips numbly brush my lips, they still seem to tingle from the contact of my mate.
I remember every single gory detail. It's burned into my memory, and even if I never kissed him again I won't forget it. Not a single second of it.
Nor will I forget the betrayal that sizzles deep inside of me.
Every time I picture Ezra's stupid face, I want to punch it. It probably won't do much damage, but it will feel good, that's for sure.
I peek outside absently, the skies are spotted with white and gray clouds. The sun is gone behind the curtain of cotton balls. The clouds are very specific clouds.
They mean only one thing.
Snow.
An empty feeling surges inside me, and my body lurches to the side. I miss my baby brothers.
I tell myself over and over that pouting about it will do absolutely nothing, but it's impossible not to feel sorry for myself. I've been through countless hardships.
My stealing habits have not subsided. I still feel that occasional urge to grab something and stuff it in my jacket.
When I'm sad, it makes it worse for some reason.
As soon as I got back from Ezra's cottage, I slammed the door to the pack office building. My feet took me straight to Paullini's office. I was about to go up to my attic room when I spotted a yo-yo on his desk.
I didn't ignore the burning desire engulfing my limbs, pushing me to take it, I accepted it with open arms.
I snatched it, pushing it into my pocket. Before I could open the door to the attic, a throat cleared behind me and I knew I was caught in the act.
Dr. Paullini was apparently not very happy that I stole from him to say the least.
I then wordlessly pulled the toy from my pocket and placed it in his outstretched hand. Spinning around, I scurried up to my attic room without another sound.
The agony I feel doesn't ease the ability to resist temptation.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I toss and turn on my bed. I want to take a nap to forget the world, but I'm too restless.
