Page 51 of Bullied Forced Omega
But before I can answer, she spins away and storms off in pure rage.
“Fuck,” I mutter quietly beneath my breath. That really did not go well. I acted like a total asshole. I saw flashes of the old me. Uncontrolled emotions and lashing out embarrassingly. Groaning, I push my hand through my hair and shake my head at my own stupidity. Then I run after her to apologize.
“Mira,” I call out, jogging toward her.
“I don’t have anything else to say to you, Jace,” she huffs quietly, glancing around to make sure no one is listening. The music from the party a little way away is loud enough that our conversation and argument are still private. But it’s not a good look for the Luna and Alpha to be fighting, especially in front of other packs.
I wanted tonight to be about progression and showcasing the new era and pack dynamics. But now I’m risking showing everyone that I’m a jealous idiot who doesn’t trust his Luna.
“Mira, please, give me a chance…” I sigh.
She looks up into my eyes and pulls her mouth into a tight curve of disapproval and impatience. “Go on, then,” she snaps.
“I’m an idiot,” I groan. Immediately, her expression softens.
“Ok, I’m listening…” she knots her brows, curious.
“Black Ops taught me a lot about controlling my anger…all of my emotions, actually. To the point where I struggle to express myself in normal ways. I guess I’ve always struggled with that…uh… my point is…. Black Ops taught me to think before I react, but when I saw that guy all over you, Jux went absolutely crazy, and it made me absolutely crazy, and I acted like a complete asshole. I’m really sorry. Please, I’m better than I was in the past, but I still make mistakes,” I sigh softly, hoping I’m making sense and not babbling nonsense.
She’s watching me closely, studying my face and taking her time to respond. It’s driving me crazy with tension. Anxiety I’m not used to feeling.
Sometimes words aren’t enough. You have to show her. Put in real effort.
“Let me take you out tomorrow. Just you and me. I can make it up to you. Anything you want to do, I’ll take you,” I smile, feeling good about this. “I promise not to be an asshole,” I add, grinning mischievously.
“OK, that sounds like a good plan,” she giggles, shaking her head. “But you can’t expect to just flash the smile and get away with things. Don’t even talk to me like that again, ok?”
“Ok,” I nod, still smiling, but more serious. I wrap my arm around her waist and lead her back toward the party. “So, where are we going tomorrow?” I ask.
“You’ll just have to wait and see. And I expect you to pretend you like it even if you don’t,” she smirks.
This makes me chuckle. How do I end up with the quietest, meekest she-wolf in the pack as my mate, yet she’s feisty and sassy with me?
***
It’s early morning, and Mira is already up and dressed in a long, flowing, floral dress. She sets a cup of coffee down on my bedside table and grins at me. “Come on, we’ve got to get there early to get all the best things,” she says.
“Get where?” I stretch my legs out beneath the blankets and yawn.
“To the thrift market. They usually have the prettiest things. Books, clothes, odd little treasures…”
“A thrift market?” I repeat, trying not to sound bored out of my mind already.
“Yep, drink your coffee. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
Her excitement is like a spark in the air. It makes me curious. Not about the market. I couldn’t give a shit about a thrift market. But about her. What makes her smile, what she does for fun. Her interests outside of work.
I get dressed quickly because I made a promise to her last night to make it up to her, so today is about making her happy. She is my Luna after all, and it is my duty to make her happy. If she is satisfied and our relationship is peaceful, then I will be presenting a good example for the rest of the pack.
Dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt, I tug the Jeep door open for her, and she climbs in, carrying an empty canvas shopping bag.
“That’s a big bag, what are you planning on buying?” I ask, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“I definitely want to get some fresh strawberries from the farmer's stall. And I’ll need cream and butter too.”
“What for? Why don’t you go to the pack's store?”
“Because the farmer is really sweet. He and his wife work hard in their fields, even though they’re really old, and their only income comes from selling their fruits and jams at weekend markets. I like to support them. Besides, they honestly have the best strawberries and figs I’ve ever tasted. And when you taste the strawberry tart I make, you’ll understand,” she grins.
