Chapter 60 60
ARIELLE'S POV
Is he a psycho?!
My mind screamed the question. He’d just practically thrown me out of his room with that icy “Leave…Now.” Barely five minutes later, after the Gamma had stopped me from leaving the pack, now he wanted me to just follow him to see the apartment? Like the last few minutes of near-coronary terror hadn’t happened?
Did he reset his brain or what?
I stood there in the grand foyer, watching him as he strode toward a car without a backward glance, expecting me to trail after him like a well-trained dog. I made no move. My feet were rooted to the marble, a silent protest against his whiplash-inducing mood swings.
He noticed. He stopped by a sleek, black car parked in the circular drive and finally looked at me, one eyebrow arched in that infuriatingly arrogant way.
“Don’t you want the apartment?” he asked, as if I were the one being unreasonable.
Argh! If I wasn’t completely, utterly out of options, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have turned on my heel, marched right out of this creepy mansion, and taken my chances sleeping on a park bench around college. But I was option-less. So, pride thoroughly swallowed, I walked toward the car, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.
He got in the driver’s side. I yanked the passenger door open and slid in, barely getting my feet inside before he started the car. He didn’t even spare me a glance as he slammed the accelerator. The car shot forward with a low growl, and I was thrown back into the leather seat, fumbling frantically for my seatbelt. My head almost bashed into the dashboard as he took a sharp turn out of the gates.
He didn’t twitch. Didn’t apologize. Didn’t seem to notice I was there at all.
What a jerk!
It was infuriating. My fingers dug into the seat. But I had to keep my cool. I was a guest, a tenant-to-be. I repeated it in my head like a mantra.
After a few minutes of silent, aggressive driving through the manicured paths of the pack territory, he pulled up in front of a small, charming cottage nestled among tall pines. It was picturesque, with a neat lawn and a stone porch.
“Get out,” he stated simply, already opening his door and stepping onto the gravel.
I mimicked him under my breath, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, your majesty, right away, your highness,” and got out, slamming the car door with more force than necessary.
He was already on the porch, a dark, impatient silhouette. I stepped onto the perfectly trimmed lawn, then up onto the porch, the wood creaking softly under my weight. Without a word, he tossed a single, silver key toward me. I fumbled but caught it.
“That’s the key. Check the apartment. It’s yours,” he said, his gaze fixed on the line of trees across the path. He wasn’t looking at me. It was strange. He’d dragged me here, but now he seemed like he couldn’t wait to be rid of my presence. It was too stupid to think he was actually avoiding me—this was the man who stared people into submission—but the evidence was hard to ignore.
I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, stepping into a small, cozy living area. It was… fully furnished. Not just basics, but nicely. A comfortable-looking sofa, a wooden coffee table, curtains on the windows, even a rug. I was so shocked I forgot my irritation for a second.
“Do I… do I have to pay extra for the furnishings? With the rent?” I asked, turning to look at him. He’d followed me in but was standing just inside the door, a brooding statue.
He finally looked at me then, but his eyes held no warmth, only that familiar, assessing chill. Instead of answering, he just motioned with his chin toward a short hallway. “You can check the bedroom. See if it’s okay for you.”
Dismissed again. I bit back a retort and walked down the hall. The bedroom was simple but more than adequate—a double bed with a neutral cover, a dresser, a small closet. A window looked out onto the pine trees. It was peaceful. It was perfect, honestly. I hadn’t expected to rent a well-furnished place, and certainly not from him, who probably loathed me silently after our last few… unpleasant encounters, most of which were thanks to his attitude.
Satisfied, and feeling a weird pang of gratitude I refused to show, I turned to go back and tell him it was fine.
And I spun right into him.
I gasped, stumbling back a step. He’d been standing right behind me in the doorway, silent as a ghost. But it was his expression that froze me.