Page 107 of Bite Me

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Dacre

I’ve resorted to banging my head against the wall. The rain hitting the skylight in my room is enough to disguise the sound, and the pain is negligible compared to what Emma is going through.

I don’t know what’s worse:the fact that the entire university now knows we’re scent-matches or the fact that, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find Emma to talk to her about it. Or even worse, the mind numbing fact that can’t be ignored.

She doesn’t want to see me.

When I ran into Zant early today, I knew he knew something. I had to fight the urge to hurt him when I cornered him inside Solexxa House and I could smell her on him. I knew they were friends, but she trusts him more than me? Did she ask him to help her and not me? Is it because she doesn’t trust me?

I’ve given her nothing but reasons not to.

He assured me that she wanted to be alone. So, here I am, alone in my room, where I’ve been all day because I can’t think of anything other than where she is.

I don’t know with 100 percent certainty, but judging by her scent faintly clinging to his jacket, at least one reason she doesn’t want to talk to me is that she’s got fevour pains. Our nights together must have triggered it.

Her scent was so . . . delicious. So little of her was enough to be my undoing today. Screw the culinary club and the rest of my classes; I didn’t go.

I slump onto the bed to watch the rain while my phone vibrates on the wood of my nightstand. My grandfather has been calling me all day, but too bad he’s all the way in Vviveren City and can’t come and ambush me. He’s probably pissed that I’ve delayed the contract signing, or maybe he’s disappointed to hear of my absence in my curriculars today.

There’s a knock on my door, and I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s nearly two in the morning. Surely, my grandfather didn’t get on his private jet in this weather to get me to answer him. Or worse, send Liam to straighten me out.

The thunder shakes the room as I open the door a crack. My heart drops.

Emma is standing there, soaking wet from head to toe. Droplets bead from her hair, creating long, black streaks of mascara on her cheeks. The wood of the door splinters under my hand when her scent hits me.

This woman was made for me. Chemically. Molecule by molecule. Cell by cell. The urge races through my body to satiate her, to comfort her. It’s so fast, hitting in a wave so strong that my knees nearly buckle. And, as great as it is, as much as it’s wired into my biology to help her, nothing matters more than figuring out why the fuck she’s crying at my doorstep in the middle of the night.

“Can I come in?” she sniffs.

“Of course.”

I dart for a towel and drape it over her. With heaving shoulders, she breaks into another sob.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I just . . . I’ve had the worst day, and all I wanted to do was to come and see you, but I knew that I shouldn’t, so I didn’t. The doctor told me this wouldn’t go away for a week, and so I locked myself in my room because I didn’t want to see anyone else. I thought it would feel good to be outside where it’s cool, but when I went out in front of Luxxia, I ran into Verity.”

She collapses against my chest, and I squeeze her, caressing her face and her head. Her scent is the loudest thing in the room. Louder than the pouring rain pelting the skylight or the fire cracking in the fireplace. Even louder than the thunder that shakes us as I hold her.

“What did she say?”

“That . . . this thing between us is a terrible idea, and I shouldn’t come back to the culinary club. She was waiting around in Luxxia to see if the rumors were true.”

I’m going to kill them. This entire thing with the article has Verity and Luther written all over it. I can get them kicked out of the culinary club. It’ll be easy enough to catch them in a scandal. Then I’ll pay for them to take an unexpected trip to the islands as solace for their troubles, and then they’ll mysteriously fall into the murky sea, never able to bother her again.

“I’m so tired of pretending. I just want to be right. I try so hard, and nothing ever feels good enough. I’m not even sure I belong in the club, and I don’t care anymore . . . I just want to be happy. I want . . . I want . . .”

Emma sobs harder, and I wrap the towel tighter around her, never letting go. I don’t think I can.

“It will all be okay. I’ll fix it.”

“I don’t care what everyone else thinks, but I care what you think. If you want me to leave you alone, just tell me. I can take it.”

“Don’t leave me alone.” I brush the wet hair away from her forehead. “You don’t need to worry about them.”

“She said you’d never love me, and every time I think of that, I just can’t stop crying.”