I had left my pack 4 years ago to come live in this city where White Moon Pack is situated simply because Skyler had complained about tolerating my parents, who didn't see him as befitting for me. I cut ties with my pack and made other sacrifices, including personal changes for him and this is what I get, a blunt betrayal from him.
This was it. I couldn't take it anymore than this. It was clear as the daylight that I no longer meant anything to him. Forcing a relationship with him was meaningless.
No more will I be an understanding and naive girlfriend. Never.
The following day, I decided to leave the office earlier than usual, despite it being my day off. I had come to work just to unwind, hoping to clear my mind after the disaster of yesterday. At exactly 4 p.m., I headed to my scooter, letting the cool evening air seep into my skin, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest.
Just as I reached for my helmet, I froze—an all-too-familiar scent hit me. Skyler.
My gaze shifted, and there it was—his sleek black Audi R8 parked across the street. My heart sank as I saw him leaning casually against it, his piercing eyes locked onto me. His intense gaze used to send shivers down my spine in a good way. Now, it only made my blood boil.
How dare he show up after what he did? My so-called boyfriend had ditched me on my birthday for a romantic date with Tia. The betrayal stung, anger bubbling inside me. The last thing I wanted was to face him.
Pretending I hadn't seen him, I quickly climbed onto my scooter. I strapped on my helmet, hands shaking with anger. Just as I was about to rev the engine, I heard his voice, tinged with irritation.
"Raya! Are you seriously ignoring me right now?"
I avoided his gaze, noticing the surprise in his eyes as I started the scooter. He took a few determined steps toward me, but I didn’t care. I twisted the throttle and sped off.
His audacity, acting as if nothing had happened, fueled my rage. How could he show up here like yesterday meant nothing?
I glanced in my mirror and saw him following me, his car gaining speed. A moment later, he pulled up beside me, his window rolled down, yelling.
“Raya, what the hell? I’m talking to you!”
I ignored him, my heart pounding, my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Stop this childishness,” he snapped, impatient. “I don’t know why you’re overreacting. Stop the bike. I want to talk to you.”