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Part 2

### Chapter 1: Chapter-1

The video was only eleven seconds long.

I watched it three times anyway. My thumb kept pressing the screen, as if the ending might change. The bed was the same bed, the jersey on the girl's back was number nine.

I didn't remember leaving my dorm. I only remember the cold breeze hitting my face and my shoes slapping against the pavement. My phone was shoved into my pocket, and it felt like it was burning a hole through my jeans. The hockey arena came up at the end of the road, bright and loud, and I didn't slow down.

He promised me that jersey. He said it on the bed that night, with his hand in my hair. ‘Only you, Bella. Nobody else will ever wear it.’

I pushed through the doors. The cold of the ice hit me, and so did the sound of skates cutting across it. I found him right away, because I always did. Jace was laughing at the center of the rink with three of his teammates around him, his helmet tucked under his arm.

I walked straight to the glass and slammed my phone against it.

The rink went quiet. Jace turned and I looked at his face. I wanted to see confusion, I wanted him to squint at the screen and say, What is that? That's not me. I would have believed him. God, I would have believed anything.

His face didn't change at all. He just looked tired, like I was a problem he had hoped to avoid.

My chest cracked open. "Jace.”

One of his friends whistled low. Another one laughed. Jace skated closer and leaned on the glass, and his eyes moved slowly down my body, from my shoulders to my hips to my shoes. His lip curled.

"Look at yourself, Isabella," he said. "Really look. You're skinny in all the wrong places and soft in the rest. Did you think I enjoyed touching that?"

Someone behind him said, "Damn."

"She actually came here crying," another voice said. "Over this?"

I couldn't breathe. My hands were shaking against the glass. "You said I was beautiful. You said you were mine."

"I said a lot of things." He shrugged. "She's got curves. A real body. You're like holding a bag of bones, and you smell like a family nobody wants near them."

The words hit harder than any slap would have. He knew which parts of me were already broken, and he pressed on every one of them.

"I'm going to be Beta," he said, louder now, so everyone could hear. "My name means something. Your family is a curse, and your brother is the only reason anyone lets you stand in this building. I can't walk next to a weak little omega with a stain on her blood. I reject you, Isabella Peterson. I reject you as my mate."

My chest cracked, I have no good word for it. It felt like someone ripped a rope out of my chest while it was still tied around my heart. My knees hit the floor. Somebody laughed again, and I heard it from very far away.

I don't know how long I walked. The streets blurred. My face was wet, and every time I blinked I saw his eyes moving down my body. Bag of bones. Soft in the rest. Nobody wants you.

The bar was the first place with a door open. It was dark inside and loud, and it smelled like sweat and whiskey and heat. Wolves everywhere, pressed against each other, hungry and reckless. I didn't care about that either.

"Whatever's strongest," I told the bartender.

I drank the first one without tasting it. Then another. The third one finally made the edges of everything soft. The ache in my chest was still there, but it moved a little further away. That was all I wanted. I just wanted it to be quiet for one hour.

I was reaching for the fourth glass when a hand closed around my wrist.

I knew that voice before I turned. Deep and angry and it was familiar in a way that made my stomach drop.

My brother's best friend stood behind me with his jaw tight and his eyes burning.

"Go away," I said, and I turned back to the bar.

He didn't and the next thing I knew, the floor was gone and the world was upside down. He had picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. The bar blurred past, and someone whistled. I screamed and hit his back with both fists.

"Put me down! Killian, put me down!"

The car door opened and the leather seat hit my back and the door slammed shut. He walked around, got in, and locked it. The click sounded very loud.

"Are you insane?" His voice was low and furious. "Do you know what place that is? Half the wolves in there are in heat, Isabella and you walked in alone, smelling like that, looking like a snack, and ordering shots like a girl who wants to be eaten."

"I didn't ask you to come."

"You're a fragile little omega with no pack at your back and no sense in your head. One of them could've dragged you out of there in two minutes, and you couldn't have stopped him. Look at you." His eyes dropped to my arms, my wrists, and the narrow frame of my shoulders. "You're tiny. You couldn't fight off a puppy."

Skinny in all the wrong places. The voice echoed again

"Stupid. That's what this is. Completely stupid….”

My voice broke on the last word and the tears came, and I couldn't make them stop. They came hard and hot, from somewhere deep in my chest. I pressed my hands over my face and my whole body shook with it. I cried the way I hadn't let myself cry in the street, the arena, or the bar.

"He said I was disgusting," I sobbed. "He said it in front of everyone. He said nobody would ever want me, and they laughed. They all laughed."

The car went silent. I heard Killian's breath catch, and then I heard him curse softly. When he spoke again the anger was gone from his voice.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I only cried harder.

A long moment passed. Then his hand came up slowly and hovered near my shoulder, like he was afraid to touch me. "Isabella," he said, rough and quiet. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't know."

I lowered my hands and looked at him. His eyes were wet and dark in the dashboard light, and there was something in his face I had never let myself read before. He was looking at me like I was something precious. For the first time that night, somebody was looking at my body and wasn't disgusted by it.

The ache was still there, loud and endless. And he was right there, warm and solid, and he smelled like safety.

"Take me home," I whispered.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I'll drive you to the dorm. Tell me which…..”

"Not mine." My voice shook, but I made myself say it. "Yours, Killian. Take me to your home.”

Isabella’s POV "Isabella," Killian said again, softer this time.I couldn't answer. Everyone in the parking lot was staring at me. Jace was still on his knees at Killian's feet, blood dripping from his nose onto the concrete.Jace didn't even look at me. He crawled forward and grabbed the edge of Killian's jacket. "Please. Please, Killian. I'll do anything to keep that title. Anything. My father has worked for it his whole life."Killian looked down at him like he was something stuck to his shoe. "Let go.""I'll apologize. I'll say it in front of the whole school. I'll pay whatever you want. Just don't take it from my family.""You should have thought about that before you put your hands on her.""I never touched her!""You touched her where it counts."Jace's voice cracked. People had their phones up again, but no one was laughing. It was strange to see him like that. For months I had thought he was the strongest person I knew. Now he was shaking on the ground, begging, and I felt n

Issabella’s POVI didn't think. I grabbed my phone and stood frozen in the middle of the room, listening to the engine cut off outside.Footsteps pounded up the stairs, the door opened and Killian stepped in, shutting it behind him. He has gone pale. "Get into the closet," he said. "Now.""Killian, I….”"Now Isabella!”He pulled the closet door open and pushed me inside, between his coats and his shirts. It smelled like him in there, and I hated that it still made my chest ache. He looked at me for one second, and for that second he didn't look cold at all. He looked scared."Don't make a sound," he whispered. Then the door closed and everything went dark.I pressed my back against the wall. Through the thin wood I heard him cross the room, open the bedroom door, and walk downstairs. A moment later the front door opened.""You look like hell," my brother said.I put my hand over my mouth. "Long night," Killian said. His voice was perfectly calm. I didn't know how he did that. "What

Isabella’s POVKillian said no three times.The first time was in the car, with his eyes on the road and his knuckles white on the wheel. "You're drunk. Tomorrow you'll hate me."The second time was at the red light. "Your brother would kill me, Isabella."The third time was in his hallway, and I didn't answer him with words.The whiskey had made everything warm and loose, and the pain was still there but far away, like a sound in another room. All I could feel was him, so close, he was the only solid thing in a world that had fallen apart that day.I dropped his jacket off my shoulders. Then I pulled my sweater over my head and let it fall on the floor."Isabella." His voice was rough. "Put it back on.""No.""You don't know what you're doing.""I know exactly what I'm doing." My fingers were clumsy, but I took his wrist and pressed his hand against my chest. I felt him go completely still. I felt his breath stop. "Please. I just want to feel something other than this." "Stop." But

Isabella’s POV The video was only eleven seconds long.I watched it three times anyway. My thumb kept pressing the screen, as if the ending might change. The bed was the same bed, the jersey on the girl's back was number nine.His number nine.I didn't remember leaving my dorm. I only remember the cold breeze hitting my face and my shoes slapping against the pavement. My phone was shoved into my pocket, and it felt like it was burning a hole through my jeans. The hockey arena came up at the end of the road, bright and loud, and I didn't slow down.He promised me that jersey. He said it on the bed that night, with his hand in my hair. ‘Only you, Bella. Nobody else will ever wear it.’I pushed through the doors. The cold of the ice hit me, and so did the sound of skates cutting across it. I found him right away, because I always did. Jace was laughing at the center of the rink with three of his teammates around him, his helmet tucked under his arm.I walked straight to the glass and sl

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### Chapter 2: Chapter-2

Killian said no three times.

The first time was in the car, with his eyes on the road and his knuckles white on the wheel. "You're drunk. Tomorrow you'll hate me."

The second time was at the red light. "Your brother would kill me, Isabella."

The third time was in his hallway, and I didn't answer him with words.

The whiskey had made everything warm and loose, and the pain was still there but far away, like a sound in another room. All I could feel was him, so close, he was the only solid thing in a world that had fallen apart that day.

I dropped his jacket off my shoulders. Then I pulled my sweater over my head and let it fall on the floor.

"Isabella." His voice was rough. "Put it back on."

"You don't know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing." My fingers were clumsy, but I took his wrist and pressed his hand against my chest. I felt him go completely still. I felt his breath stop. "Please. I just want to feel something other than this."

"Stop." But he didn't pull his hand away.

I stepped closer. I went up on my toes and kissed him.

For one second he didn't move at all. His lips were hard and stiff against mine, and I thought, he's going to push me away. Then a low sound came out of his throat, a sound like something breaking, and his hand tightened on me.

"Damn it," he said against my mouth. "Damn it, Bella."

He kissed me back like he was starving.

His hands were in my hair, then on my waist, and my back hit the wall. I gasped, and he swallowed the sound. There was nothing careful in him now. He kissed me hard and deep, like he'd been holding it back for years and the lock had finally snapped. My head spun. My fingers dug into his shirt, and I pulled him closer, and he groaned.

"Last chance," he said, breathless, his forehead against mine. His eyes were black. "Tell me to stop."

"Don't stop." I muttered against my breath.

He lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around him, and he carried me down the hall with his mouth on my neck. The bedroom door hit the wall. I didn't care. I was already falling.

I won't tell every part of that night. I will tell you he was never rough with me, not once. He touched me like he was afraid I might disappear. When I cried, he stopped and kissed my tears away. He said my name over and over, like it was a secret he had kept too long. For a few hours, the hole in my chest filled with something warm.

I fell asleep in his arms, thinking that maybe this was what being wanted felt like.

The sun was bright, and my head pounded. For a second I forgot everything. Then it all came back all at once, the video, the glass, the bar, the car, his hands. My face went hot. I found his shirt on the chair and pulled it on, and stepped outside the room.

He stood at the gas with his back to me, already dressed, his hair wet. When he heard me on the steps, his shoulders went stiff.

"Morning," I said. My voice came out small.

"You can sit over there.” He pointed to the chair.

I walked slowly and sat down, my eyes glued on his back as he prepared the food.

Minutes passed in silence, when he was done he put a plate in front of me without looking at me, then sat at the far end of the table and stared at the table. The silence stretched until I couldn't stand it.

"Killian. About last night….”

He said it flat, like he was reading it off a card.

"You were drunk," he went on. "You were hurting, and you threw yourself at me. A decent man would have walked away. I didn't. That's on me, and I won't do it again."

"I wasn't that drunk. I knew what I wanted."

"You didn't." He finally looked up, and his eyes were cold. They looked nothing like the eyes that had held me hours ago. "Don't make this bigger than it is, Isabella. It was one night. You needed someone, and I was there. That's all it was."

"You were a one night stand." He said it slowly, so it would sink in. "People have them every weekend. You don't need to look at me like I owe you something."

It felt like someone had stepped on my chest. Jace had been cruel yesterday, but Killian was the one who had held me. He was the one who had said my name like it mattered.

"You were gentle," I said. My voice cracked. "You stopped when I cried. You wouldn't do that for a stranger."

"I would for anyone who cried that hard."

"It's not." I stood, and my chair scraped the floor. "You asked me three times. You said last chance. Why would you ask if it meant nothing?"

He rose slowly and put both hands flat on the table. He didn't shout, and that was worse.

"Because I'm not a monster," he said quietly. "I didn't want to take advantage of a girl who'd just been torn apart. That's decency. It isn't love. Don't mix them up."

My eyes burned. "Please. Just let me say it. I know I'm Daniel’s sister. I know it's complicated. I'm not asking you to promise me anything. I only want you to be honest. If you felt something…..”

"I felt sorry for you." He picked up his cup and turned his back on me, like I had already left the room. "That's all. Take it for what it was and stop trying to turn it into something else."

‘Sorry for you’. The words went in slowly and settled deep. Yesterday the whole rink laughed at me. Today the one person I trusted was calling me a pity.

I walked out of the kitchen. I made it to the bottom of the stairs before my vision blurred, and then I ran. I took the steps two at a time and tore off his shirt as soon as I reached the bedroom. My hands shook as I found my jeans, my sweater, my boots. I dressed fast, wiping my face on my sleeve, telling myself I didn't care.

I was reaching for my phone on the nightstand when I heard a low, rolling rumble.

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. A black car was turning into the driveway, the same one I'd seen a thousand times. My stomach dropped instantly.

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