CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

***MEI'S POV***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of the alarm brings me out of my sleep. I open my eyes, running a hand through my hair as I turn on the bed. I don't want to wake up, not yet.

I have a lot to do today and I don't even know how to will myself to get anything done.

The soft linen on the bed beneath me, makes my wolf purr.

Wait a minute.

I'm on a bed? I don't remember coming home last night, after my...'mini not so mini meltdown.'

The sheets smell like me, so I'm obviously at home but my head instinctively snaps up—just to confirm— with so much force, my neck makes a loud crack.

Ouch.

"Ahh, you're awake now." A voice says, and I notice through my peripheral vision how they reach to turn off the alarm. I scan the room, a sigh of relief escaping my lips almost immediately.

I'm home.

"How are you Curtis?" I force myself to ask, as memories of last night flood my mind.

My voice comes out croaked and I turn to my nightstand to reach for the bottle of water on the table. I nod slightly at Curtis, as I down the contents, grateful he took the initiative to keep water at my side for when I wake. I usually do it myself, the night before but I appreciate the gesture.

"Oh you know, just a little here and there, had better days though." He quips, flipping through a magazine and I wince at his very unusual response.

"Are you mad at me?" I blurt, unable to stomach the thought.

"Honestly? Yes." He responds immediately, still flipping through the pages, though I doubt his attention is on the magazine before him. "Nobody, myself included like being cockblocked....but you know what I don't like more?" His eyes doesn't leave the magazine as he clutches onto both ends for dear life, like letting go would prompt him to yell or something.

Curtis has always been put together. Despite his anxiety, he's the one who’s always been there for me through my lows and highs. I hate to see him this way, and worse, I hate to know it's my fault.

"I don't like it when my best friend isn't being completely honest with me." The white in his eyes is mostly visible now and his tone is firm.

"You could've stayed with your worthy fuck." Is What I find myself blurting as I lay back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. I'm being a bitch now, but I really don't know what to do.

I'm so worked up and I've been letting my feelings get in the way of my logic since I stepped back into this damn city.

"For fuck's sake Mei. This isn't about me!" His voice tears through the thick tension between us as he places the magazine on his laps and finally looks at me, leaving behind a trail of cold, aching silence.

I let out a shaky breath at his words, that the problem, it's always about me.

I'm so sick of it, he monitors me like I'm some kind of object of pity, like the only reason we're friends is because he knows I'd miserable alone.

"If I'm so much of a problem, you should just leave and....never come back." My voice shaky, as I mutter those words. My skin prickling with the awareness of what I'm asking, an unsettling feeling courses through me and settles deep in my throat, forming a huge lump.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"You don't mean that Mei." He says, his voice a lot calmer than earlier. I bite my lower lip, in an attempt to hold back the tears threatening to burst free and also to fight the instinct to comfort me.

I've always taken comfort in the fact that I could easily keep myself in check, but these past few days have turned me into an emotional wreak and I detest every aspect of it.

"We're gonna work through this okay?" He says, abandoning the magazine to sit on the bed beside me. The dams that had been threatening to pour out a while ago finally give way when I catch a whiff of his scent.

He might be my best friend but Veils rarely show their scent and he's choosing to do that with me in this vulnerable moment.

Of course he is. He cares for me, he always had.

What the fuck have I been thinking.

He reaches to tuck a few strands of my silver hair behind my ears as he looks into my eyes. "I'm sorry for yelling, I didn't mean to." I don't respond, only focusing on the lip between my teeth, it hasn't done much to hold the tears at bay, but I keep it there because it gives me some illusion of control.

"You will also apologise, in due time for threatening to run away—again." He says as he brings his forehead to mine.

My lower lips are finally freed as the lasts of my illusion shatter. "I'm sorry Cur." I mutter, he's right, I was going to run—again.

"It's okay Mei," he says, comforting me and patting on my hair. "Your mama was worried about you." He continues, "I found you passed out on the driver's seat and panicked."

"And you called her?" My tone comes out curt than I'd like but still....

"I had to." He quips and I raise my head to turn and face him.

"Curtis, you know the Ironclaw are on my tail, I don't need them putting two and two together." I bite back, I'm already on edge, putting mama in trouble isn't exactly on my bingo card.

"Maybe next time, you actually fucking talk to me when you're not okay instead of forcing shit, why the fuck did you think I'd be okay fucking some random girl when you were all alone and hurt?" He spits back, his brows creasing as his hand curl in front oh him taking that defensive pose he usually has whenever we argue.

There we go, back to square fucking one.

I don't say anything as I stare at him. He stares right back, but his eyes soften as he takes in my swollen lips and red eyes.

There it is again. That look.

Maybe it's concern.

Maybe it's guilt.

Maybe it's pity.

Whatever it is, I can't stand it.

I can't deal with this right now, I need to do something. Like work or I don't know, anything to fucking forget how the sight of Curtis pitying me replays in my mind.

I force my legs into the foot falls beside my bed as I turn on my heels to leave the room.

"At least let me make you your tea." He says, halting me in my tracks, "the one's from the last time we were at her restaurant." He continues and I turn at him, his posture coming into my focus. My omega seems as helpless as I am now.

That can't matter right now though, as I mutter, "I'm good." And turn to leave.

I take in a deep breath and make my way to the kitchen as I feel a thick cold haze settling above my head like a dark cloud.

And as I brew my coffee, I know it. As the sound of the boiling water ricochets in the room, I know it.

I take in another deep breath as I spread mayonnaise into my toast.

I can feel the glint in my eyes reveal a clear purple before quickly concealing to brown.

My empire wasn't built by overrunning emotions.

I shove a piece into my mouth as the voices in my head finally overtake my logic.

"What better to run an empire than through being numb?" Is the last thing I hear, before everything goes on autopilot.