45
Tan narrowed his eyes while looking at me. It was clear from the look on his face that he did not like the way I had just spoken to him.
I should not stay here any longer. I attempted to leave by turning my body to the left, but a hand stopped me from doing so.
Ian placed his hand beside my head on the bookshelf to stop me from leaving, and he moved closer to me.
I stopped, but did not turn my body toward him. I felt his breath in my left ear. I clenched my dress to control my disloyal heart, which was beating for this man.
Everything he had done to me came back to mind.
“I see what you are thinking,” he whispered in my ear.
I felt a chill run down my spine as I listened to his whisper. I tried my best not to react in any way.
After taking a few deep breaths, I quickly regained my composure. Once more, he uttered a hushed whisper.
“Do not think yourself superior just because I felt guilty for an incident and said sorry.”
Upon hearing him, I was unable to suppress the urge to sneer at him. Here was the real Ian Dawson, the arrogant Alpha boy. His ego was bigger than the boundaries of his pack.
He came here to apologize, but when he saw that I did not care, it was a blow to his ego. So now he wanted to insult me again because of it.
My anger began to build up inside of me. I wanted to confront him and tell him to fuck off.
But the moment I turned to him, my nose brushed against his. I gulped and pressed my back against the bookshelf once again to keep a distance between our bodies.
“Listen, Ian, I-”
“This pair of glasses looks good on you. You should wear it every day. You do not have to alter who you are in order to appear to others the way you did during the party that night.”
His remarks took me by surprise and caught me off guard. My gaze mended on his face. My attention was drawn to the mole that was located beneath his bottom lip while he was speaking to me.
I immediately averted my gaze from his face and took a deep breath, only to realize that his cologne filled my nostrils.
“Let me go,” I said with a tightening of my voice, attempting to maintain a cold demeanor.
He chuckled while staring at me. His tattooed hand lifted up, and I shut my eyes. I thought he would grab my neck like that night. It was not new to him to hurt me.
I could hear him heaving a sigh as he slowly placed his hand on my head. It was as if, when he saw my terrified expression, he was completely taken aback.
I opened my eyes and looked at him.
He smirked at me and patted my head.
“I want you to stop being afraid of me. Because if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so the very first time you offended me. There is no one who can stop Ian Dawson from doing what he wants to do.”
45
I was confused by his words. After removing his hand from my head, he moved back from me.
He turned his gaze away from me. He tucked his hands into his pants‘ pockets and turned to the other side to leave. While he was leaving the corner, I kept my gaze fixed on his back.
As soon as he left the library, I let out a sigh of relief.
I remained in the corner for a while, trying to understand the meaning of his words.
Did he give me his word that he would not hurt me again? Or did he just warn me that if he wanted to hurt someone, there would be no one who could stop him?
Neither the reason he came to me nor the reason he was talking to me made any sense to me. I wondered if he also had the intention to bully me, just like others.
“I thought that night gave him closure. I showed my submission to him so that he would never come my way again. But why did it turn the other way? Why did he even care to apologize?” I asked myself.
I thought about leaving the library since I had no more interest in staying here for long.
I was ready to step forward when something caught my mind. I looked around the corner and realized that Ian had brought me to the historical section. The bookshelf that he had pressed me against was a shelf that was stuffed with ancient books.
When I was looking at the titles of the books, I took my time and examined them carefully. My attention was drawn to a few books that appeared to be quite old and did not have titles printed on them. I reached out my hand to an old book that had a brown leather cover. From what I could tell, the book had been there for a very long time. Because of this, the cover was covered in dust.
While I was walking to my table, where I had left my bag, I used my hand to brush the dust off the book.
The people around me glanced at me because of what had happened a while ago. I chose to ignore their stares and sat down in the chair, facing the wall next to the table.
The moment I set the book down on the table, I felt an unexpected surge of interest well up inside of me.
I opened the book and noticed that all of the pages were brown. This book seemed to have been written centuries
ago.
I gulped when I saw what was written on the first page of the book. I shivered when I read it in a low voice.
“The Myth of Alpha’s Rejection.”
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