You love them more
10: Chapter 10 See?
You love them more Isla’s POV~
The lock clicked.
The sound echoed loudly in the empty room.
I was alone.
Finally.
I didn’t move from the bed immediately.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the heavy thud of their boots fading down the hallway.
Then the front door slammed.
Then silence.
The silence was worse than the noise.
It left me alone with the mess they’d made of me.
I sat up.
My body felt…
wrong.
And… Heavy.
Like I’d been run over by a truck, but in a good way.
My muscles were loose, melted, but my skin was buzzing.
I stood up.
My legs shook.
I caught myself on the dresser, knocking over a bottle of perfume.
The smell of lavender hit me, but it was instantly drowned out by the smell of them.
Musk.
Rain.
Copper.
It was on my skin.
In my hair.
Between my legs.
I stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door.
I needed to get it off.
I needed to bleach my skin.
I turned on the shower, not waiting for the water to warm up.
I stripped off the ruined shirt, Slade’s shirt, and threw it in the corner.
I stepped under the spray, gasping as the cold water hit my hot skin.
I grabbed the rough washcloth and the body wash.
I started scrubbing.
I scrubbed my neck where Maddox had bitten me.
I scrubbed my breasts where Slade had bruised them.
I scrubbed between my legs where Colt had…
where they had all been.
“Filthy,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“Filthy.
Filthy.”
I looked in the mirror above the sink.
The girl staring back was a stranger.
Her lips were swollen.
Her eyes were blown wide, the pupils dilated so much the blue was just a thin ring.
And the marks…
I leaned closer.
The bruise on my shoulder, where Slade’s teeth had broken the skin, was scabbing over.
But it wasn’t a red, bloody scab.
It was silver.
It was shiny.
Metallic.
It looked like mercury pooled under my skin.
“You’re… Healing.”
The word didn’t come from me.
It came from my wolf that was waking up.
“Oh, give me a break,” my Wolf scoffed.
Her voice wasn’t a growl this time; it sounded like a mean girl in the back of the class.
“You’re scrubbing that hickey like it’s a wine stain on a white carpet, honey.
It’s not coming off.”
“Shut up,” I snapped back at her, scrubbing harder.
The washcloth was rough, tearing at the fresh skin.
A little blood welled up, mixing with the soap. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“I’m not healing.
I’m broken.”
“You are not broken,” my Wolf drawled, sounding bored.
“You’re just…
well-used.
And let’s be real, you loved it.
Look at the silver.
That is their saliva.
Their essence.
It’s knitting you back together better than you were before.
It’s basically a spa day, but with more teeth.
Ain’t it?”
“I don’t want it!” I yelled at the mirror.
“I want to be scarred!
I want to remember what they did!”
“Why?” My Wolf laughed.
“So you can play the tragic heroine in your diary?
Please.
You look in the mirror and you see a victim.
I look in the mirror and I see a girl who just got railed by four Alphas and is still standing.
That’s not trauma, babe.
That’s a personal best.
Isn’t it, Isla?”
I dropped the washcloth into the sink.
It landed with a wet slap.
I stared at my hands.
They were shaking.
Not from fear.
From withdrawal.
My body was aching with a deep, hollow throb in my belly.
My nipples were hard, forming painful points against the cold air.
The slickness between my legs hadn’t stopped.
It was dripping down my thigh, mixing with the shower water.
“They left,” my Wolf whispered, her tone teasing.
“And you’re dripping like a broken faucet.
You feel the void where they should be, don’t you?
It’s like when you forget your phone, but the phone is a giant knot.”
“They went for a run,” I muttered, gripping the sink.
“They’ll be gone for hours.”
“Hours is a lifetime for a wolf in heat,” my Wolf countered.
“And they aren’t running for exercise.
They are running to burn off the lust.
They are running because if they stayed, they would have knotted you.
They would have tied you to them forever.
And honestly?
You would have let them.”
I closed my eyes.
An image flashed behind my eyelids.
Slade’s knot, huge and throbbing, forcing its way inside me.
The feeling of being stretched until I tore.
The feeling of being filled.
My hips bucked involuntarily.
“No,” I gasped, slamming my hand against the mirror.
“No!”
“Yes,” my Wolf purred, sounding like a cat who just knocked a glass off the table.
“You want it.
You wanted it when they were here.
You wanted it when Slade was biting your neck.
You wanted it when Colt was eating you out like a buffet.
Don’t lie to me.
I felt your pleasure.
It was sweeter than the fear.
You were making noises like a dying animal, Isla.
It was embarrassing.
In a good way.”
“They forced me,” I whispered, but the conviction was gone.
“Did they?” My Wolf snorted.
“Or did you just stop fighting because it felt too good to lose?
You are standing in a shower, naked, wet, and aching for four men who just used you like a stress ball.
And you are thinking about letting them do it again.
You’re basically a masochist with a breeding kink.”
I slid down the wall, hitting the cold tile of the shower floor.
I pulled my knees to my chest, hiding my nakedness, but I couldn’t hide the heat radiating off me.
Outside the window, in the distance, I heard a howl.
It was mournful.
Almost desperate.
It was coming from Maddox.
The sound hit me in the chest like a blow.
My breath hitched.
The bond pulled tight.
I felt a phantom weight on my chest.
A phantom hand in my hair.
“He is calling for you,” she said, satisfied.
*He is lonely.
They all are.
They’re out there in the cold, blue-balling themselves into oblivion because they’re afraid of hurting you more.
How romantic.
How tragic.
How…
stupid.
If they’d just come back in here, you’d be begging for it in five seconds.”
“I should kill them,” I said, but my voice was a whimper.
“I have the gun.
I can shoot them when they come back.”
“If you shoot them, you die,” my Wolf said simply.
“The bond is sealed.
If their hearts stop, yours stops.
It is a biological failsafe.
You are stuck with them, Isla.
Until death.
So unless you’re planning a murder-suicide, you might want to start practicing your ‘Welcome Home’ speech.”
I put my head in my hands and screamed.
A silent, muffled scream that tore at my throat.
I was trapped.
Not by locks or chains.
But by my own damn wolf.
By this thing inside me that loved the monsters.
I looked at the silver scab on my shoulder again.
It was glowing faintly in the dim bathroom light.
“They did break me,” I whispered to the empty room.
“No,” my Wolf corrected, curling around my spine.
“They broke the shell.
Now you have to deal with what’s inside.
And guess what?
What’s inside is a horny little wolf who wants to be bred by the Bad Boys.”
I reached out and touched the silver mark.
It was hot.
Burning hot.
And God help me, I didn’t pull my hand away.
I pressed harder.
I let the heat seep into my palm.
“See?” My Wolf giggled.
“You’re already waiting for them.
You’re going to stand here and finger yourself until they get back, aren’t you?
Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
“I hate you,” I whispered to the wall.
“I know,” She purred.
“But you love them more.
Now stand up and wash your hair.
You smell like sex and desperation.
We need to be ready for round two.”
I hated myself.
I hated them.
But mostly, I hated that my Wolf was right.