Jealousy And Rage Novels & Stories

She was just a student, and I should let her be. But I couldn't shake the possessiveness that gnawed at me, or the jealousy that threatened to consume me. Fucking Jealousy? Was I jealous? I wasn't! I can't be! My wolf was the jerk making me feel all these foreign emotions. I had no idea if Leila was into dark-haired guys, and that thought only edged me on. Firstly, she got involved with her father who was a dark haired man, then me and now this boy. Rage swirled inside me like a hurricane, and the urge to bash the boy's head against the wall was overwhelming. My wolf wanted to tear him limb from limb, to break his bones and draw his blood, to make him scream for touching what was his. What w

The gesture was so intimate, so loving, that something ugly and hot twisted in my chest. Jealousy. Pure, vicious jealousy.

Before he can finish, his head lolls slightly, his eyes rolling back, and just like that—he’s unconscious again. A violent, uncontrollable flame ignites inside me. Jealousy. Rage. Pure, unfiltered irritation. My teeth grind so hard my jaw aches. My nails dig deeper into my palms, sharp enough to break skin. Arella. Again. She’s everywhere. In everything. Even here, even now, even when I am right in front of him, she’s the one he sees. I can’t stand it. The need to destroy something—to smash every single object in this sterile, miserable room—is overpowering.

He’d never let himself believe what it actually was. “Impossible,” he scoffed, but his voice had tightened. Baylee tilted her head. “Do I smell like it’s impossible?” He inhaled. His nostrils flared. For one heartbeat, his mask cracked. Jealousy hit the air like acid. Rage, possessive and ugly and old. He covered it fast. Too fast. His smile came back, thin and bright and false. “Doesn’t matter,” he said lightly. Baylee’s stomach went ice cold.

I know how Matt's mind works, I know what he is thinking and I could feel the fury rolling off him in waves. I tried to shove him away from me, trying to find a way to put some distance and get a space away from hi because my mind is too jumbled to stand there by his side, but his grip was like iron. He is not just angry, he is jealous, obsessive and a whole level of rage I had never seen in him before. I am not even sure I recognize who this man is. "Matt, stop!" He did not, his grip tightened, leaving bruises no doubt.

And there is nothing I can do about it. I feel the anger bubbling in me, making me want to pull off an unexpected move. I am really sure that I won't hesitate. Not just anger - there is something else, something that I am not able to control right now. Jealousy. I am jealous on another level. I am going into overdrive.

A familiar uncomfortable heat was building in her stomach and she bit her lip. "Not now please, wait a bit." His forehead almost touched his knees as he leaned forward. I was going into heat again. He was already panting. She did not want it to happen again, her jealousy was extremely exhausting, painful and so often it had deprived her of almost all her energy because in those three days that she was locked up she could barely take care of herself. He squeezed his eyes tightly hoping for a miracle that would stop the advance of his zeal but it only made it worse.

“I have Alpha blood, Amara. I would have my own consorts, right?” Something disgusting crawls inside of me that had me blinking rapidly. It wasn’t quick like something that just passes, it wasn’t a fleeting emotion. It was big, and heavy, and whatever it was made me feel angry. I wasn’t stupid, I knew it was jealousy. Only jealousy would make you feel angry and insecure at the same time. It was one of those things that you couldn’t control but at the same time is one of those things that you can hide for so long until it eats you whole.

Jacob suddenly flew his fist to land on Rago when he saw him clinging to his wife. Jealous maybe. Jealousy can do something different when someone is madly in love.

It left me clean and shaky and angrier than before. Jealousy is hunger with a smart mouth. It tells me to bite my way back to his attention. It tells me to walk into his war room and put my throat in his hand and remind him I am the promise that bleeds the same. It tells me to get loud. He hates when I get loud when the pack can hear; it makes him a man instead of a myth and he hates being the only man in front of those who need him to be weather.