Page 22 of His Bullied Fated Mate

“Then get your eyes checked.”

“I mean it, Janella.”

“I think you're forgetting that your pack is the one that treated me like crap the entire time I grew up. Your pack is the one that talks about how terrible I am and how you deserve to be married to someone better. So, excuse me if I don’t seem to give a shit about your opinions.”

I turned and started to cross the street. I didn’t hear him following me, which was good because I needed to get as far away from him as I could.

I headed for the library. It was bigger than the previous one but still gave off the same calming vibes. I found a corner to sit in where I chewed on my cheek. I didn't know what to do.

I kept hearing Riley's words ringing in my head. The demand and possessiveness. It wasn't a side I expected.

I looked across the space towards the row of books in front of me. I pulled myself up and started to walk around, running my fingers across the shelves.

“Janella?”

I turned as Kyla stood a few feet behind me. She waved as she walked over. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I just needed out of the house. What are you doing here?”

“They are teaching an art class tonight. We're doing watercolors.”

“Oh, that's nice.”

“You want to join? I'm sure they have another spot.”

I was about to shake my head. I wasn't in the mood for painting or talking, but would I rather go home? Rather sit here in the back corner, letting my mind go over what happened for the next hour?

“Actually, yeah...that sounds like fun.”

She beamed. “Good. Come on. The first ones get to pick their spots, and I want to get a good apron.” She hooked her arm with mine, and I smiled.

Chapter 7 - Riley

I poured myself a cup of coffee and could hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I turned as Janella made her way down. She rubbed at her eyes, yawning as she moved.

I could still hear the way she screamed at me last night, and it stirred something in me. I found myself looking forward to arguing with her. She was the first person in a long time to push back at me. To call me out on my shit. Because she’d been right. I was acting like an ass.

“Morning.”

She stopped as her eyes narrowed on me. I almost smirked at how cute it looked on her.

“Cup of coffee?” I waved the coffee, a peace offering.

She crossed her arms. “Why? Did you put something disgusting in it? Can’t wait to see me spit it out and start laughing?”

“Is everything I do an evil plot somehow?” I tilted my head, waving the coffee again. I knew she would take it. She had several cups of coffee a day, which told me she ran on caffeine. “Because this is just black coffee. Nothing disgusting about it. Unless you don't like black coffee, then yeah, you'll think it's disgusting.”

She continued to glare as she walked into the kitchen. She grabbed herself a mug and handed it towards me. I poured her some coffee, and she turned. She opened the fridge, pouring in creamer and milk.

She sat down at the island, and the space went quiet. I stared at her. She had her hair pulled back in a braid, with a few wisps free. She was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a tank topthat cut low. I took in her thin frame and wondered if she ate enough. I didn’t remember her being so small before. But then again, I never saw her wearing anything like this.

“You're staring.”

I blinked, not having realized I was. She looked annoyed.

“You can stare at me,” I said, giving her a grin. “We can just sit and stare at each other.”

“I’d rather scoop out my eyeballs than do that.”