7. The abyss of guilt

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EDITED

Chapter seven:-

Driving back to the confines of his Packlands, his senses were slowly returning to him, now that he was far away from the scent of his Mate which had this strange ability cloud his thoughts and blur his thinking process. He couldn't let her control him this way. With a frustrated growl, he parked his car in front of the Pack house.

He needed to clear his mind; and there was only one way he knew how to do it—sex.

Just to spite his inner Wolf and desperate feelings trying to crawl their way out of the walls of the metallic box he had long back caged them in, he smirked to himself and walked over to an all too familiar door. A small part of his brain kept telling him that this was wrong and he shouldn't do it—that he would have to pay its price later, but another part of him, a much more dominating side of him told him to screw it all and just go with it.

Not bothering to knock on the door, he strode in and the owner of the room almost stood up immediately from her place on the bed, where she had been sulking for quite a while now.

"Alpha."

The breathy voice of Veronica was just as predictable as the ending of a clichéd novel. Looking at him smirk to himself, her eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion.

"Veronica."

If she had any doubts, it was all clarified by the cool, dominating voice he had and the hooded eyes were almost showing her what would come out of his visit like some magical, foggy crystal ball.

She coyly smiled. Maybe all her chances weren't lost. "Yes, Alpha," she purred as she hesitantly but seductively walked slowly towards her key to the treasure chest.

Impatiently he pulled her into his chest and ripped her top as she hungrily clawed at the piece of shirt on his torso till it was just scraps of garments in her hand. You'd be shocked by how being sexually deprived for hardly over a week could do to these two. In that sense, she and her Alpha were more alike than anyone would like to admit.

*

"This doesn't mean anything and don't tell anyone about this," was their parting words.

Without saying a word, Christian got up from the king-sized bed in the middle of the room and bent to retrieve his pant. Shaking his head at the cloth piece which very much looked like it had been a shirt he had worn just until a few minutes ago, he stood up and Veronica gave him a grin with a wink. Discarding it on her floor, he walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

His eyes immediately met with Kirsten's warm ones. Her eyes moved down to his exposed torso and then slowly to the hand still on the knob of the door. The warmth immediately left her eyes, being replaced by accusation and coldness.

"What are you doing outside her room?" She asked cocking her hip and placing a hand on it.

"What does it look like?"

Her eyes widened at his bluntness. "But why? I thought you went out last night with her for dinner date," she said, her voice thick with betrayal.

"I did. Look, Kristen, I don't want to talk about this," he said running his hand through his messed up hair.

"No, I want to talk about this," she said with conviction. "What went so wrong that you came crawling back to her?" she asked trying to maintain her cool.

"I did not go crawling to her," he gritted out.

"Never mind that," she waved her hand in dismissal. "How was it last night?" She asked nervously. If he genuinely doesn't like her then this is going to be a lot more difficult than she first thought.

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