บททั้งหมดของ Hunting for our Mate: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Atalanta’s pov“What are you doing?” Suzie asked, making me flinch. I put my head down, ready to be scolded.“Lana… why are you cleaning our room?”I slowly looked up to find her staring at me with an expression that looked a lot like concern. However, I had no clue how to respond. Why wouldn’t I clean the room?Suzie came closer, “the first time it happened, I just figured you were being nice. But I can clean my own stuff, Atalanta. It’s not your job to tidy my side or clean the room from top to bottom every day.”“It isn’t?” I asked surprised. It has always been my job to clean up everyone’s mess.“No. I am responsible for the mess I made. And in this case, it might have looked like a mess to you, but there was a system to the madness.” Suzie explained. Her whole desk had been covered in random papers; there was not an inch left of it. So I had placed them all on a pile before cleaning her desk.The concept of everyone being responsible for their own mess was foreign to me. From a yo

Atalanta’s pov No good. I am no good. I ran while trying to keep the tears in. I couldn’t let Raiden know how much he had hurt me. He wouldn’t care anyway; it would probably only bring him joy to see the weak little mouse cry because of him. It’s what my parents always told me. No good. Only good to clean up after them. I am a mistake. Never should have been born. Unwanted and not good enough. Never good enough. And it wasn’t just because I am not a boy. I don’t have any talent. I’m not strong. I complain too much, and I’m in the way. I’m too short, and I am weak, dumb, and a waste of space. For a little while, I thought maybe people here would think differently. For a second, I thought that maybe my parents were wrong. But they aren’t. I’m no good. I am pretty sure I’m actually the opposite of good, considering the thoughts I’ve been having. Becoming friends with werewolves? Having dirty thoughts about werewolves? Caring about them? They are monsters, even if t

Raiden’s pov“Stay here!” Mr. Bianco growled at me. “I will deal with you later.” He got some guys to help carry Dylan out of the gym. The motherfucker couldn’t walk. He couldn’t see either, since I beat his face to a pulp. There weren't enough curse words to describe the anger I felt for the bastard. I wish I would have killed him, but I was happy that he would be in pain for a few days or more.I had watched from a distance, making sure Dylan wasn’t pushing Atalanta too much. It was clear she had no training. Even simple things, like hitting Dylan, she didn’t do right. Not only did she start with her thumb inside her fingers, making it likely to break, she didn't use her whole body, only her arm. Dylan didn't show her how to stand in a figting stance, howBut instead of teaching her the right way, he just kept barking orders at her. I couldn't, however, spend the entire class staring at her as if I were some sort of stalker. She looked really good, too. She was filling out her spor

Raiden’s povZev came back from visiting Atalanta looking like he had seen a ghost. Was our little mouse that badly hurt?“Everything go okay?” I asked, not trying to show how worried I really was.“Yeah, um, fine. She looked perfect. I mean, not perfect. Um. I don’t know. I need a shower.” Zev said, sounding frazzled.What the hell happened there?While I wanted to see her to make sure she was okay, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I doubt she wanted me there anyway, and I surely knew better than to go to her right now. If I saw how hurt she really was, I’d probably go finish the job and kill Dylan for real this time.Not that I could stay away from our little mouse for long, even if I wanted to. I had to train the mouse to become a wolf. An impossible task and one I really didn’t want. How could I possibly stop this stupid crush or whatever obsession I had when I was going to be training her?Training meant touching. Being close. Smelling her. Damn, it was going to be impossible not to

Zev’s povSuzie offered to buy some supplies yesterday while I helped Atalanta study. Apparantly, she needed to train her brain, according to Suzie, who was very worried about Atalanta’s health.She looked fine.Yeah, of course she wasn’t fine. Her hand hurt, her wrist was sore, and it was clear her throat wasn’t fine either. You could tell it hurt to swallow and talk, not that Atalanta would ever say that. It took me a while to feel comfortable sharing my feelings, but Ethan, Grace, and my therapist helped me with that.They showed me that showing emotions or asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness but of strength. Admitting your feelings takes guts; hiding them is far easier.That didn’t mean that I was always upfront about my feelings or shared everything I was thinking about or struggling with. Some things are just too big to let out.But I feel like Atalanta holds everything in. “So how much homework have you still got to do?” I asked Atlanta.She grabbed some papers from her