CHAPTER 18
NIGEL QUINTIN ULYSSES

Julia is calling my name out loud, knocking on the door hard, which she hardly ever does. Usually she'd ring up my phone, tell me that she's at the front porch waiting for me to come down and greet her, shower me with kisses, and give me a tight hug. But today is a different day. She bangs on the door hard and I've got an impression that it's starting to wake the neighborhood up. Both Marcus and I stop having a pillow fight, and based on the expression he's wearing right now, which he tries hard to mask away but fails to do so, he's kind of pissed.

He and I share a look, but to say I'm embarrassed in an understatement. I'm beyond that. I'm mad at Julia for being like this; I so badly want to help her out, but she wouldn't let me in. It's like something is pulling her back from trusting me, and it goddamn hurts like hell.

"Get to her," he says to me in a low voice, looking away from me. I have to admit, it hurts me to see him like this. I don't know why, but I have this feeling that he's sad. From the corner of my eyes, I see his hands clenching and unclenching and I wonder if there's something I could to calm him down before I get downstairs and ask my girlfriend what the hell was that knocking about. "Go. I'll stay here." He tells me before grabbing the blanket and draping it over himself, lying back down in the bed. My heart clenches at the sight of him and I force the feeling away, because my girlfriend is still downstairs, knocking as hard as she can while shouting my name out loud.

I get downstairs and walk straight right to the door, opening it up. Julia steps in, her hair in a mess and I want to ask her what happened, but then I remember her rude way of barging into my house and banging the door out loud.

"What the hell was that, Julia?" I ask her, getting angry over the fact that she's been treating me like shit, and I don't like that. "Seriously, what's happening with you?" I ask her, rising my voice and glaring down hard at her.

For a moment, I see the familiar emotion in her eyes that I've grown accustomed to love, but then it washes away and has been replaced with something I can't understand. Her gaze hardens, then she says "We need to talk," and we all know that when someone says that sentence, it's either you are in big trouble or he or she will deliver a bad news to you. And I don't want any of that. What her next words shock me, though. Because I haven't been expecting it. "Whatever we have, it's not working." Her voice rings in my ears, and it keep replaying over and over inside my head, never stopping.

Looking at her hard, I grip her shoulders and grit my teeth. "What the hell are you talking about?" I don't want to believe it, never want to say the words, because I know that it's going to hurt me a lot. We have always believed that we're meant for each other, that we're going to get married and have kids and have a wonderful life. But we haven't even thought of this moment. "You... you... there's something wrong. I can feel it. You're not telling me something."

"Please, Nigel," Julia says exasperatedly, her shoulders sagging down as she looks down on the floor. She stares at the floor, suddenly finding it interesting rather than me. Pain explodes into my heart. I'm not prepared for this. I have never even prepared for this. I always thought that we'd be a happy family someday, that I'm going to kneel down and ask her to marry me. But clearly that isn't going to happen now that she wants to end the relationship we have. "I don't want it to end this way, but this seems like the best thing to do. It hurts me to see you like this, believe me, but..." she lets out a sigh, shaking her head. "You've been my best friend, Nigel, my protector. You were the center of my world, but we're still young. We meet a lot of people..."

"Are you saying you're seeing someone right now?" I ask her through gritted teeth.

To be honest, I don't know what to feel anymore. I know for a fact that I'm mad at her, but at the same time, there are other feelings I have in my heart that I can't understand. It's all mixed up. Questions run inside my head; questions like how long has this been going on? Is she cheating on me? Why is she doing this to me? I want to ask her, but I can't seem to utter the words out loud for I'm afraid of the answers. I have done nothing but to treat her gently, like a gentleman should do to her woman. But somehow, it's still not enough for her. If it was, then she wouldn't have cheated on me with someone.

For a moment, I want to break down, to throw tantrums in front of her, but that would seem like a childish thing to do. I need to handle this like a man. And I'm a man. I'll make her realize that what she's doing right now is wrong. In the end, she'll realize that she wouldn't have broken up with me. She'll realize what she was missing, what she has done to our relationship, how she ruined it all.

She never answers the question, though. She leaves it hanging. Deep inside, I know that she's already seeing someone, but I never want to admit it to myself. Hell, she's beautiful and a lot of men admire her, so it's no wonder that someone tried his very best to capture her heart.

MARCUS PIERCE

I heard it all.

That's one of the good qualities a werewolf has. A good sense of hearing. From the moment she stepped right into the house up to the point where she broke up with my mate. I know, it's cruel of me to feel joy when the words came out of her mouth, but at the same time, I can also feel the pain of my mate. All his life, his girlfriend was the one who became his rock and it's obvious that they really liked – like – each other, but their relationship must end. It's because for one, Nigel is my mate, and two, Julia has been marked.

Yes, I can smell from here the scent of sex clinging all over her body. She now belongs to a werewolf who loves her very much. Somehow, this werewolf has found her. I know that Julia is still strongly attached to my mate, but at the same time, she's also confused about her feelings. She knows that what she feels for her mate is stronger than what she has for Nigel. And I can't really blame her. She thinks that this is the only way to break things between them and to clear up her head. If I were in her position, I would do the same. I mean, Julia seems to be a smart woman. She can't let Nigel stay, knowing that she feels a stronger feeling for a different man. It would just hurt them more and more if they stay together.

I want to barge downstairs, take my mate in my arms, and whisper soothing words in his ear that would make him feel he's not alone, and that I'll be here beside him no matter what happens. But I know I'm not allowed. I think it's an unspoken rule. Let him be sad, and I'll comfort him later when he needs me the most. Right now, what Nigel has to do is to clear his head, and me going and try to comfort him will not help his situation.

But damn it, I can't help but to be a nosy bastard. I wear my shirt that I took off last night and placed on the desk, and head downstairs. I find my mate sitting on the couch with a distant look on his face. He's still in shock, I guess, and when I come near him, he doesn't seem to notice me or feel my presence.

I want to ask him if he's okay, but that would be a ridiculous question. He's clearly not okay; even a child can determine that. I take a seat beside him, and restrain myself from hugging him because that's what I really want to do. Instead, I ask him, "Would you like me to make a breakfast? I can burn some eggs, but not all. Not really a good cook." I attempt to be humorous, but he only gives me a weak smile and a nod.

Their relationship has officially ended, and I'm not really sure what to do next. Now that she's out of the picture, I need to make a new plan. From now on, I will be his rock. I will protect him and will make sure that he will never get hurt again. I swear upon the name of the Good Goddess.

Standing up, I head immediately to the kitchen and begin to do the work. Today I should make it a goal to make him happy, or at least make him smile, a genuine one. He should never feel lonely and sad. I pick two eggs inside the fridge, and some strips of bacon. I search for the pan and grumble since I can't find, but after a few minutes of searching, I find it just inside the cabinet beside the sink. I turn on the stove, set it to medium heat, and pour a bit of oil into the pan. After a few seconds of waiting, I finally crack the eggs and pour them into the pan. I search for the salt, which I find just an arm reach, and then grab a pinch and put them into the eggs. It's true that I'm not a good cook, but for Nigel, I'll do my best. I will always do my best. I grab a three plates, and put a kitchen towel on the plate and once the eggs are done, I carefully scoop them up with the spatula and place them on the plate. Then I start to fry a couple of bacon strips, and in a matter of minutes, I'm already done. I call out his name, but Nigel never responds. I turn off the stove, head back into the living room, and see him staring out into the distance with a look of pain. It hurts me to see him like this and this is the time that I can get on my knees and pray to the Good Goddess to give my mate strength to overcome this.

"Breakfast is served," I tell him softly.

Nigel looks up at me with glossy eyes. I want to lean and kiss his eyes, but I'm afraid that it would trigger something inside him that I'm not prepared to see. Nonetheless, he stands up, gives me a nod, and heads to the kitchen. I stand there, looking at his back and I think what could be done to lift his spirits up.

I head back to the kitchen and find Nigel seated on one of the stools, already shoving a bacon strip into his mouth and I watch, expecting him to say something. "It's not that bad. Your cooking skills, I mean." He says, his voice hoarse. I let out a smile, glad that he finds my cooking skills rather good. I join him, taking a seat beside him. I ignore his looks and instead, I focus myself on eating because God knows what I would be able to do if I take so much as a glance at him. We eat in silence, and after a few minutes of eating, he stands up. "That's a great breakfast. Are you going to do this every single day?"

"If that's what you want, I can do that."

"Yeah, I would love that. I would love to taste whatever you can offer."

I turn my head and blush furiously. Good Goddess, that sounds so wrong yet so pleasant in my ears. I whip my head to face him, and he's still staring at me with those beautiful eyes of his that always take my breath away. And Good Goddess, those lips. Those fucking lips that I want to kiss.

"I'll go take a shower," he announces and before leaving, he gives me one last smile.

"Fuck, it's time for me to take cooking classes." I mutter to myself. "Or I could just ask my sister since she's a big of a kitchen. That fat lady." Of course my sister is not fat. She's actually one hell of a sexy werewolf, but I always call her that fat lady because it irritates her. "Yeah, I could ask that fat lady to teach me how to cook."