Chapter ten

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Hayley's POV

I play around with the salad on my plate in the cafeteria as my mind plays back what happened between Christopher and I at the lake. The smile that formed on his lips every time he would catch me. The way his usually tousled brown locks would fall against his eyelids .

After Christopher's little statement that caused the uncontrollable blush on my cheeks, we played around in the water for an hour before my father mind linked me with a furious tone, telling me to return home.

Christopher was being a gentleman the whole time, apart from his slightly inappropriate comment. Whenever he held me close to him, he would ask if it's okay with me and never let his hands wander around. He even walked with me to the border of my pack, insisting it was unsafe for me to be walking around alone.

It been a week since then and Christopher hasn't even bothered to talk to me. At all. He avoids eye contact at all costs and basically acts like I don't exist. He seemed really angry every time I caught a glimpse of him but decided I would let him come to me, not force myself upon him.

I'm still bugged about the conversation dad and I had yesterday. I didn't think missing one day of training would be that bad, but I guess it is. I've never seen him that ticked off ever since Claire and I got tattoos on my sixteenth birthday. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing to signify our close bond.

'Hayley.' My father mind links me, startling me I'm the process. Speak of the angel and he shall appear. 'Yes pa? 'I respond, feeling slightly unsettled. Normally when dad mind links me,it's something serious.' Immediately after school, come home. I'll send Parker to come get you.' He bluntly states, leaving no room for discussion. 'Okay pa.' I respond in submission from his alpha tone.

I groan out loud at dad's irritating behavior. " Hello gorgeous." An awkwardly deep voice murmurs in my ear, quickly filling me with a disgusted feeling at the back of my throat." Tyler." I spit out coldly as I glare at him. He plops himself down on the seat right next to me, uninvited if I may add. Know one really needs permission to sit here except for his breed. The overly cocky, rowdy, unapologetic kind of people that I basically refer to as the douche breed, led by none other than the douche king himself, Tyler.

"So, I was thinking you and I could go to the janitor's closet and continue what we never got to finish at the party." I tap my chin with a thoughtful face, pretending to be think over the douche's suggestion. "How about you leave me alone for good before I do something that will land you in an enormous amount of pain. Don't make me waste my time and perfectly good lunch." I respond with an alpha tone which makes him cower for a moment before hurriedly walking away.

At some point in the summer, I got really bored of sitting around doing nothing and decided to go to some random party pack members kept talking about during the course of that week. Claire had gone to visit her mom's old pack in Ireland. Therefore, cleaning out my event calendar for most of the summer. Long story short, he tried physically assaulting me but got beat up by Carson's  friends.

"What was that?" Christopher suddenly appeared before me from his usual spot at the back of the cafeteria in an inhuman speed. "Nothing. Just Tyler being his usual annoying self." I shrug while shoving a cherry tomato into my mouth. "That wasn't nothing. His lips were so close to yours." He grits through his teeth with clenching fists that are rapidly shaking.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask feeling angry at his statement. "First you ignore me, your mate, for an entire week then get extremely possessive all because of some pathetic excuse of someone's failed attempt at hitting on me! Really Christopher? You can't even offer me an explanation to your switch in behavior lately." I retort, trying my hardest to keep my voice low. Before I can take a breather to calm my frustration, Christopher throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and casually walks out of the cafeteria.

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