Page 12 of Rejected By The Alpha Heir

My hands are shaking as I make my way slowly across the courtyard toward our cottage. I’m at a breaking point. Normally, Austin being gone is just part of the rhythm of our daily life, but this time I feel it more intensely.

I’ve put my own feelings on the back burner for years now in an effort to cater to him. But as much as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to brush these feelings of anger, humiliation, and hurt away as easily as I have in the past.

If I’m being truly honest with myself, I’m furious with Austin and fed up with his behavior.

I’ve tried everything I can think of to convince myself to let it go and I can’t. It’s not fair, the way Austin ignores me for days at a time, openly avoids interacting with me whenever we’re in public, and is generally hostile. But to become angry with me because one of our packmates spoke to me? To skate by with only the most basic level of consideration?

This has to stop.

“I just need to tell him how I feel, clear the air,” I mutter to myself as I stomp across my porch and wrench open the door. “This is my pack too, and I deserve to be able to talk to whomever I want.”

Austin’s boots are sitting just inside the door and the sight of them makes me relieved and frustrated. I am so glad he’s home. No matter how frustrated I might be, my wolf lights up when he’s around. I crave his presence in a way that can only be explained through our Fated bond. Being separated from him for too long is a struggle. Yet, being close to him is often painful too.

He’s back. Here we go.

“Austin?” I call out, making my way through the living room. He doesn’t answer, but I don’t expect him to. There’s water running in the kitchen, so I make my way there. Confrontation makes me nervous under ideal circumstances, and this is far from ideal.

Just say your piece. It will be okay. I try to steel myself, but when I step into the kitchen, I’m distracted by the sight of him.

He’s standing by the sink, his back to me. Even though I’m frustrated with him, his presence makes my heart skip a beat. He’s so ruggedly handsome. His short black hair is longer than normal, and I wish I could run my hands through it. My fingers itch to touch him, to massage away the tension I can see in his broad shoulders. As wolf shifters, we’re tactile creatures. Austin is my intended-mate, and under normal circumstances, I would be able to touch him often.

Our circumstances are far from normal and even though I crave him, I know I can’t indulge those desires. He would never allow it. His role in our pack requires him to be strong for everyoneelse all the time, and he does it without complaint. It’s one of the things I adore most about him. He gives himself so willingly to our pack. I know, when the time arrives, he will be an excellent Alpha.

“Welcome home,” I call out softly. “I’m glad you’re back.” I take a hesitant step forward, hoping for some connection, some sign that he might be glad to see me too.

He visibly stiffens at the sound of my voice. My heart sinks but I try to force myself to stay positive.

When he finally turns around, I’m shocked by how tired he looks. There are purple bags under his eyes and a heaviness about him that tugs at my heartstrings. The sight of his broad shoulders slumped in exhaustion makes my anger start to waver and my empathy hits me. As much as I want—and need—answers for the way he treated me, the need to comfort him in his time of need is stronger. If he would welcome it, I would hold him, but I know better than to suggest it.

“Thanks,” he says, finally, his voice heavy with fatigue.

The silence between us feels awkward, and it makes me sad. I wish I knew what to say to make him feel better or to help him understand that I want to help.

Moon Goddess, give me the right words to help him.I pray silently.

“Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll cook you dinner. Give you a chance to relax a little bit,” I offer gently, my voice almost pleading.

He looks up but shakes his head at me. “No. That’s not necessary.”

He stalks out of the kitchen toward his room and bathroom without another word, leaving me feeling even more confused. I bite my lip, watching him go, my heart aching with the distance between us.

When I hear the water turn on for his shower, I immediately get to work. Austin may have said that making food wasn’t necessary, but I want to ease some of his burden, so I pull out some pasta, salmon, and vegetables, and start cooking. My hands work on autopilot as I prepare the food, but my mind lingers on Austin.

The water runs in the shower for almost thirty minutes and the insidious little voice in my head asks if it’s because Austin is purposefully trying to avoid me.Again. Even though the thought stings, I push it aside and try to focus on the task at hand.

Carefully, I dish him up a plate and make my way down the hallway toward his room. I put an ear to the door and hear the water still running, so I carefully creep inside and place the plate on his desk. My heart pounds in my chest, a mixture of hope and nervousness.

I hope this gesture will make him smile and put him in a good mood so we can discuss my concerns later. But, rather than wait to see his reaction, I decided to give him space. I quietly creep back out and shut the door behind me, pausing for a moment to wish things were different. I make my way back to my room and pick up my book to try and distract myself from the ache in my chest.

***

The sun almost blinds me as I sit up, squinting at my open curtains. It’s early—too early to be awake, but I’ve never been the kind of person who can go back to sleep after I’ve been woken up. Instead, I swing my legs out of bed and make my way out to the kitchen. Might as well get breakfast going.

The cottage is quiet, and I am careful not to make too much noise as I prepare our meal. With how tired Austin looked last night, I imagine he could do with a hearty breakfast. I smile to myself and imagine his surprise when he comes out of his room and sees all his favorites this morning.

I shuffle over to the coffee maker but stop short when I see a familiar plate on the counter.Empty.

I hurry over to grab it, noting the sauce stains and the little bit of vegetables still stuck to it.Austin ate the dinner I made!

---