Alpha Ragnar

Chapter 8

"I'm not wearing a suit jacket," I growl to Jonah when he holds one up.

"Come on! At least wear a tie. How about this one?"

My eyes narrow at the Royal blue silk and I snatch the material from his hands possessively.

This is the tie I wore to Stormie's Luna ceremony AND when I proposed.

I don't think my beta knows this, but as he scans the hurt look in my eyes, I think it clicks. He

might not know the significance of this tie, but he knows it was Stormie's favorite color.

Thankfully he drops the subject.

"Okay no tie. At least tuck in your shirt though."

I roll my eyes and put the tie back on the rack before shoving my plain black button up into my

pants. Apart from being naked, this is my casual now. Without Stormie, there's no point in

dressing for comfort. How could I be comfortable in a world without her? Business wear is now

my everyday wear.

On the way to the car, Jonah tries to give me tips, which I ignore. If I did half the things he

suggested, Stormie would have walked away.

Playing hard to get? Please. It was all or nothing with that woman.

But it's not Stormie. I have to keep reminding myself of that.

On the drive over, I must repeat that ten times. It's not Stormie. She's gone. It's time to give

someone else a shot. Though the thought makes me uneasy, it's the only thing other than

wallowing that I can do.

She's not coming back.

I walk into the diner like restraunt and Dodge a quickly movie waitress who spins out of my way

like she's done it a thousand times. I spot Miranda in the first booth to the right and join her

quickly.

"Sorry I'm late."

She scoffs and checks her watch.

"Please. I said 8 and it 7:56. I was wayyy early."

We small talk until it's time to order and she ends up getting the pancake cake pile and I end up

having a great idea. Ordering the chocolate molten waffles, I decide to come here more often.

Each time I'll order a different waffle until I find the one closest to Stormie's recipe.

Brilliant.

After a moment of awkward silence, I decide to get the hard questions out of the way.

"You said before that your mate rejected you? Can you tell me about that?"

She shrugs nochlantly and stirs her iced tea. Stormie hated that stuff. I smack myself at the

comparison and promise myself to stop that.

"His name is... Johnson Penny. He just didn't want to settle down. He's kind of a Playboy and

likes the life has without me. He tried for a week to give me chance, but came to the conclusion

that I wasn't worth it."

My face scrunches.

"He's a fool."

Truly, anyone who denies the mate bond is. It's the best feeling in the world.

Miranda seems flattered by my words and she takes my comment as an opening.

"Is this you starting to... Like me?"

She asks with such hope that I don't have the heart to say no. In all honesty, I just feel...empty.

it's not her fault though. Even talking to my best friends, this sensation of nothingness plauges

me.

Trying to be kind, I smile and shrug.

"We'll have to see about that."

As it turns out, I only have a backbone when I'm angry. This means that Miranda and I occupy

this booth well past breakfast and nearly to mid afternoon. Since I can't find a polite way to say,

'can we go separate ways now,' I sit and listen to her talk about anything and everything.

Three and a half hours later, we've parted ways and I sit in my car unmoving.

It wasn't a bad date by any means. Miranda was pretty. Probably beautiful to some, but I feel that

her features are only good due to her makeup. Up close, I'm afraid if I were to touch her face, it

would leave a finger print. Her brows are also overdone as are her overdrawn lips, but that's the

style. When I'm in the city, I see most human females looking like that and it's normal.

I remember the first time Stormie put on makeup. She had gotten it done by a professional since

she didn't know what anything was called or where it went.

By the end of the day we were laying in bed and I asked how she felt about wearing it.

"It made me look pretty," she said.

"But I had the same facial features as everyone else who wears makeup. I didn't recognize myself

when I looked in the mirror and right before bed when I took it off,"

I tightened my hold on her when her voice cracked sadly.

"I hated the way I looked without it. It's great while it's on, but I feel ugly without it now."

It had taken three weeks for her to love the way she natrually looked after that. Ever since she

told me how it made her feel, I hated the stuff. I would never want her to feel that way.

Does Miranda ever feel like that?

She has a pleasant personality and a light voice, but everything is so cliche it seems staged. It

was staged by the moon goddess perhaps, but there's nothing special about that woman. Not that

I can see. Sure, I could deal with her everyday, but she's no Stormie.

God damnit. Will I ever stop comparing the two?

Finally coming to the conclusion that Miranda is a good person and Stormie is never coming

back, I decide to do the only thing I haven't tried doing yet.

Diving in head first. Miranda feels the bond again. I want to feel it again too.