chapter 7

Chapter 7

Blair's POV

As we returned to our castle, the weight of the night's events hung heavy in the air while my arm throbbed with a dull, persistent pain, a constant reminder of Avyaane's deception.

Stepping in our foyer, I watched as my brothers disperse, each seeking comfort in their own way.

Logan headed straight for the kitchen, his movements tense and agitated. We all followed, realizing we needed refreshment before heading to our separate rooms.

Once in the kitchen, Logan shoved a bun into the microwave to warm up, before he turned to me, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and lingering anger.

"Are you sure you don't need to be checked?" he asked, his gaze fixed on my injured arm. "Your wound's not healing properly." He added pointing a finger to my arm.

I bristled at his words, my pride stinging almost as much as the gunshot wound. "I would have been checked at the hospital if I needed," I snapped, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. "I'll heal up fine." I concluded trying to brushed it off. 

Chad, ever the voice of reason, chimed in as he grabbed a drink from the fridge. "Our wolves whine in shared pain," he said, his tone softer but no less insistent. "If you don't heal by morning, we'll have to go get you patched up." He added insistingly.

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a wince as I shifted my arm. "I said I'm fine, I'm not a baby to be worried over a brush of a bullet." I grumbled trying to push the matter away, though a part of me appreciated their concern.

Killian, leaning against the doorframe with an unreadable expression, shook his head. "I only pray I can get some sleep tonight after all these revelations," he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and frustration.

With that, Killian trudged up to his room, bidding us a curt goodnight, "see you tomorrow fellas!" He waved without eating anything before retiring to bed.

I felt the tension in the air thicken. Logan brought out his bun from the oven and bite before saying, "Let's call it a night," he munched, his voice gruff. "I need to retire now." He briefed.

With that he followed suit, his bun in hand as he headed for the stairs.

Left alone with Chad, I could feel the weight of unspoken words between us. The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of Chad's steady drinking. Unable to bear it any longer, I grabbed a glass of water, hoping to calm the turmoil raging within me.

"See you in the morning, bro," I managed, before retreating to the sanctuary of my room upstairs too.

Once inside, I allowed myself a moment of vulnerability. "Ugh!" I groaned, collapsing onto my bed. The pain in my arm flared, and I cursed under my breath. "Damn it, why isn't this healing yet?" I asked myself in the emptiness of my room.

My phone caught my eye, the screen lit up with notifications. Five missed calls, three from one of my regular hookups. With a sigh, I dialed her back, trying to push thoughts of Avyaane from my mind.

"Hey babe, what's up?" I said, forcing a casual tone.

Her voice came through, tinged with hope and a hint of desperation. "I was wondering if I could see you tonight." She dipped teasingly.

The request sent a jolt through me. For a moment, I was tempted. It would be so easy to lose myself in the familiar comfort of a meaningless encounter. But the image of Avyaane, pale and unconscious in the hospital bed, flashed before my eyes.

"Sorry, not tonight," I replied, my voice harder than I intended, blatantly waving her off.

I could practically hear her pout through the phone. "Are you seeing someone else?" she asked, accusation clear in her tone.

Anger flared within me, fueled by the pain and confusion of the night. "What if I am?" I snapped. "You're not my girlfriend anyway." I barked at her.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. She wasn't to blame for my current situation. But before I could apologize, she backtracked.

"Okay, when can I see you then?" she asked, her voice small. "I'm sorry for making you angry." She apologized as if she did something wrong. Why girls worship me this way was beyond my fathom.

Her apology only made me feel worse. I hesitated, torn between old habits and the new reality of my situation. Now that I was mated, should I continue sleeping with other girls and forget about my bond? But that wasn't something to decipher in one night, after all not while I was injured.

"I'll let you know soon enough," I finally said, my voice weary.

I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. The events of the night played on repeat in my mind - the shock of discovering our mate, the pain of her attempted rejection, or worse eliminating me, the chaos that followed.

As I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held. How were we supposed to build a life with a mate whom we've hate and hated us back? How could we ever move past the hurt and anger to forge a bond we were destined for?

My arm throbbed, a physical manifestation of the emotional pain that threatened to overwhelm me. I closed my eyes, praying for sleep to come and grant me a brief respite from the turmoil of my thoughts.

"I hope I can get some rest tonight," I murmured to the empty room. But as the minutes ticked by and sleep eluded me, I knew that peace would be hard to come by.

The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges I never could have imagined. As dimness of the room began to creep through my mind, I realized that this was only the beginning of a long and difficult journey.