Lola (Completed)

42 Her Monster

Lola

We may be cuddled together as tight as sardines in the back of the SUV Nanty is driving, but there's a canyon-sized gulf between us.

Bastian's eyes are hard on me. I mentally prod at our bond, my she-wolf wary of the male that we both love, but are cautious of.

He's angry and so am I.

I'm angry because he spanked me in front of the most influential wolves in the region. He did it when my reputation is already disgusting and with accusations simmering in the air from that bitch.

I'm angry because of Adriana. I'm livid because she wants my mate for herself. I'm furious because I can't help but partially blame her for Nicolai, even though, realistically she is probably more of his victim than I am.

I'm hurt because I wonder, deep down, if Bastian really would rather have another female on his arm.

"Talk to me," he demands quietly in my ear. "I can feel your angry, why?"

I swallow the bitchy response on my tongue. I don't honestly know how to communicate how I'm feeling. I'm afraid of seeming insecure, even if that's exactly what I am.

"You spanked her in the middle of the ballroom," Nanty offers from the driver's seat.

"That was not for your eyes," Bastian growls.

I see the flash of mirth in Nanty's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Then you shouldn't punish your mate in public," he pokes the beast.

"Not... for your eyes," Bastian grits out. I rub his jaw automatically, worried he'll give himself lockjaw or grind his teeth down.

My anger is fading. He's possessive of me, just like I am with him.

"I don't like that bitch telling you she's a better choice," I blurt out.

Silence falls in the car. Just the sound of the tires rolling over the asphalt and the wind rushing past.

"Who are you talking about?" Bastian finally asks me.

"Adriana," I spit her name out with a low growl from my wolf.

Strong fingers curl into my hair at the back of my neck. Bastian's other hand moves me to straddle his lap by grasping my very sore bottom. His hand stays there on my red-hot skin warningly. "You're jealous," he says flatly.

Tears prick my lashes. "Yes," I breath out.

"You're angry, because some crazy, beat-down female said some crude shit about her and I?" Those fingers tighten on me, stinging my flesh. "Are you jealous, pussy? Mad that some other female wants your mate?"

I swallow. Oh, shit. I'm in it deep, aren't I?

"That fucking prick," Bastain says with his face in mine, "the one you called, the male who's fucked you for how many years? He's still alive, pussy. Is that fair to me? Who should be jealous? You or me?"

I whine as he rubs a thumb over the Mark on my neck. "Gillain is pregnant with Val's baby. I just thought-"

"Stop," his growl cuts me off. "You do not make those decisions alone. You tell me, or Ryker."

"You're always so busy," I protest. I'm being childish, I know I am.

Bastain leans back against the seat of the car and closes his eyes.

"I just wanted to help, Bast."

"I know, pussy. But I can't let you help me right now."

"Why?" I ask, so frustrated with him. I'm so in the dark with what's been happening lately. "Where do you go when you disappear for so long, Bast? You can't be patrolling all that time?"