“200 degrees Celsius!” he yelled, and whipped his head around to look at me and an accusing glare radiated from his gaze.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he repeated, laughing humourlessly. “What’s wrong with that is that it’s meant to be in Fahrenheit, not Celsius. This stove is set for Celsius!”

“Don’t blame this on me! I warned you about my non-existent cooking skills, it’s not my fault you didn’t mention that the stove is set for Celsius” I growled, crossing my arms under my chest. No wonder the eggs started burning straight away, I was meant to convert it.

“Well if you hadn’t been so immature and careless, maybe you would’ve noticed! Can’t you read a fucking recipe!” he yelled in frustration. Why was he getting so worked up about the temperature of a stove? I warned him I couldn’t cook!

“Excuse me?! Immature and careless! I read the recipe 6 times over, don’t go around assuming things. It’s you at fault as well! How come you’re getting so angry over a stove?!” I gritted through my teeth. Remaining calm was getting hard here!

“Sorry for worrying about your safety. A person tends to do that when bad stuff happens in their life!” his voice cracked slightly in the end, but he cleared his throat, fixing that.

“Like what? What could be so bad that makes you spaz out like this?!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air.

“You probably wouldn’t understand; after all, you’re Miss Perfect. Nothing bad happens to you” he chuckled, but a hard edge was replacing the humour. I cringed on the inside, hurt. He has no idea... Clearing my throat, I masked all hurt expressions on my face, and let the anger take over.

“How would you know, huh?! What could be so horrible?!” I yelled back, giving up being calm.

“You want to know so badly? Well how about having your parents murdered by rouges!” he growled, his shoulders heaving up and down as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, “just before your coronation for the title of Alpha!”

“Well how about being abandoned by your own parents at birth?!” I shot back; a surprised look came over his face, before anger replaced it again.

“At least you never met them to know the pain of losing them!” he argued, but I could see the doubt in his eyes at his own comment. It made me even angrier, till I felt my wolf surfacing.

“At least you weren’t kidnapped and raped!” I screamed in rage, a torn and horrified look flashed across his eyes, and in mere seconds I saw all his anger dissipate. Gulping, I just realised I had dug a grave for myself.

“What…” he whispered, regret and a different type of anger washed over him like a tidal wave. I knew I was visibly shaking, but the memories kept creeping forward from the back of my mind- trying to haunt me. I shook my head, and took a few retreating steps towards the door.

“No.” he growled, his voice going a couple octaves lower. “Tell me what happened”

‘Tell him’ my wolf urged, but I could still feel her pain. I didn’t want him to ever know, especially that the nightmares’ have been coming back since two years ago. At least he didn’t connect the dots when he saw the effect the dreams had on me.

“It doesn’t matter, well, anymore” I insisted, hoping he would get the point. That didn’t seem to be that case.

“Dammit Lee, tell me what happened. I want to help you” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to a baby. That of course angered me, I hated when people did that to me.

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