The slam of Raula's front door was a period at the end of his humiliation. The sound echoed in the tranquil morning, a violent outburst that felt pathetic even to his own ears. Jareth stood on the porch for a moment, his chest heaving, the image of Raula's disappointed face and Dorianna's triumphant smirk burned onto the back of his eyelids. The hopeful, golden light of the morning now felt like a mockery, exposing his failure for the entire world to see.
He strode away from the house, his footsteps pounding a furious rhythm on the cobblestone path. Each step was a hammer blow to his pride. Never be the Alpha. Raula will never love you. Dorianna's words were a poison-tipped barb lodged deep in his psyche. He replayed the scene, his mind conjuring a dozen different, more victorious outcomes where he bested Dorianna with a clever retort, where Raula saw her for the viper she was and turned to him with gratitude and admiration.
