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Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Rhea
“She looks good,” Marcella compliments my wolf as I return from my run. “Very healthy. Almost like she didn’t just die.
“Don’t trigger her, she might just attack you.” I laugh playfully while slipping on a dress quickly to cover myself up after shifting back into my human form.
The pain, misery, and everything else are gone, and suddenly, it feels like I can live again, breathe, and laugh.
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Although I wasn’t a zombie in my human skin, it was difficult. At least now, I am not worried about all those human traits affecting me and taking my sanity with them. It wasn’t fun to learn that I had no control over myself.
“When was the last time you went on a run, Marcella?”
“Oh, don’t ask me that. It’s been a very long time.”
“Well, you should probably get out of here and do that,” I suggest to her, a friendly smile on my face. “You’ll feel so much better.”
“And who’ll take care of the house then?”
“It’s fine, no one’s going to die if you’re out for an hour or two. Don’t worry,” I pat her back before passing her and grabbing an apple off the fruit bowl on the counter.
It’s a brand new day. I’m happy.
From the corner of my eyes, I catch Marco stepping into the kitchen doorway and spotting me. I wave at him. He frowns at first, as if surprised, but waves back and gives me a polite smile.
“You should probably tell Marcella that she needs to take a break,” I mumble to Marco.
“Rhea, will you—” Marcella turns around from the counter and spots him by the door. “Oh, is there something you need?”
“Yes, there’s a list of items that will be required by the healer to heal the men wounded from yesterday’s attack,” Marco steps further in and hands her the list. “If you could please get them prepared. I’ll wait by the front.”
“Certainly, of course, it’ll be done right away,” She gives him a quick nod.
I pull the apple away and set it on the counter.
“What attack?” I interrupt their conversation.
They don’t say anything.
“Best you don’t concern yourself with these matters, Rhea,” Marcella says, offering me a small smile. It does nothing to hide her nervousness. “I’ll be a bit busy here for now. Maybe you can head up to the library and pick a book to read. Take my suggestion.” It sounds like an order. She doesn’t mean it to come off as one but it does.
It’s been over a week now. A week since I’ve gotten my wolf back since I left and returned to this place, since Aron’s family came and left. Since he’s stopped talking to me entirely. In this week, he hasn’t spoken to me directly.
Nothing.
He’s been absent completely. I haven’t seen him. I know he’s busy. He’s always busy. But usually, he makes time for me. He’ll
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come to check up on me if nothing else. But in this past week, it has been nothing. And the worst part is, I don’t know what’s happening around here anymore.
I can’t hear anything because Kovas doesn’t comes here anymore. Aron only comes at night and Marcella won’t dare to say a word about anything that’s happening.
Marco comes and goes picks up supplies and things from the garden and from Marcella, but he doesn’t interact with me at all.
When Marco leaves the kitchen, I follow Marcella out and into the pantry. She halts in her steps to turn around at me.
“I know you must be curious, but don’t concern yourself with these matters–”
“What kind of matters? What attack? I want to know, I push, hoping she would relent,
“No, Rhea, it’s not something for you to know.” She walks to the shelf in the pantry, glancing up and down at the herbs stored there. “It’s better this way. Trust me.”
Better?
“Please, tell me.” I’m asking so nicely. “I just want to know. Was there an attack here? Did someone get hurt? Did Aron get hurt? Is that why he’s not around?” Questions spill out, one after the other, without allowing me to breathe. If something happened to him…no. I need to know. Please.
She shakes her head immediately. “No, no. Not him.”
There’s relief, instant.
“Tell me then.”
“No,” She pulls out a few things and sets them on the table before looking at the list again. “Let me get done with this.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Aron told me not to share any of these matters with you. Leave it to that, and don’t be nosy.” Her words take me aback. Not in a million years I thought she’d say that to me.
Something’s not okay. I know that now.
“Okay, fine. Then I’ll go ask him myself when he’s here.”
“You’ll do no such thing. You don’t want to anger him any more.”
“Anger him?” I raise my brow. “Is he still angry at me?” Yes, he hadn’t visited me in the night in the last seven nights, but he couldn’t still be angry about what I did, about leaving. That was a week ago. People don’t hold grudges this long.
And I’m back, aren’t I?
“Let him be, Rhea.” She warns me with a tone that leaves no place to argue. “Now go, take a shower, and perhaps eat something. I’ve to get this done.” And then she turns away, back to the cabinets, to find more herbs and medicines for the injured wolves.
I leave the pantry and step outside. When I walk by the front, I catch a glimpse of Marco, who’s there, waiting for Marcella to get to him with the things. I wonder where he’s going with them. What attack?
Having my wolf back now means that I’m part of this pack, part of Aron’s pack. If something is happening, shouldn’t I know? Or does Aron not trust me? I just want to know whether he’s safe or not and whether his men are alright.
But maybe that isn’t the reason why he’s being quiet about everything. Perhaps he’s keeping me away from all of this
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because I attempted to leave.
He’s punishing me.
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My senses have heightened now, ever since getting my wolf back, so whenever there’s someone in the manor, I can hear them coming in. Or going out. Their scents are stronger and I’m able to discern everyone apart. It’s far better than before. Far, far better. Getting my wolf back has been the best thing that has happened in a while.
Before dinner, I hear footsteps nearing the door of the lounge room and they are not Marcella’s. I can distinguish that by the scent. I raise my eyes up from the book and watch the door open and as I expected, Aron is on the other side.
This is the first time I’ve seen him in a whole week. And he looks-
Terrible. Covered in blood, head–to–toe. He shuts the door behind himself, and it becomes evident that he doesn’t intend to keep standing by the door, but rather, he’s heading forward. To me.
I drop the book in my hand and rise immediately.
“What happened to you?” I gasp out.
He doesn’t answer. I notice he’s not the one bleeding–no, it’s not his blood on him, not his hands, not on his shirt or his skin. Someone else has bled. Several people. There’s too much blood on him to assume otherwise.
He nears me until we are almost toe–to–toe. He’s not hurt. This blood isn’t his. Fear settles in the pit of my stomach and threatens to rise.
“Is everything alright? What-”
He leans forward and presses his hand against my throat, lightly pushing me backward and back onto the couch. He lowers himself next to me, towering above me from his seat, trapping me between the armrest and himself. He doesn’t look amused, not at all. He’s still in a foul mood.
I swallow hard, but it goes unheard, unnoticed. My chest tightens a little as if bracing itself. I expect something, maybe a threat, an order. A command. Anything. But nothing comes from his mouth.
Instead, his mouth comes down on mine.
At first, it’s soft. Slow. Gentle.
He’s kissing me. He hasn’t done that in forever. So long.
And I find myself missing this. Wanting it. Needing it.
Then I remember. I remember the blood. Blood on his hands.
I jerk back, turning my face to the side as I break the kiss, breaking the connection and leaving him panting above me. He grabs my face and holds it tight, forcing me to meet his gaze. To stay in the present instead of letting myself drown in thoughts.
“Aron-”
“You fucking left me,”
Oh.
“I-”
“The next time you do that again, I’ll have your throat for it,” He mutters, breathing heavily. His chest rises and falls as if his words take something out of him. “You belong to me and no one else.”
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My breaths are sharp and cut deep.
He kisses me again.
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This time, a bit more forceful and rougher than before. His lips drag over my own, almost taking me with him, consuming every inch of myself. He consumes me. I taste the bitterness, the metallic tang on him.
When he pulls away, he lowers his mouth to the base of my neck, trailing light kisses up the skin before stopping for a moment. He exhales deeply there before his body presses against mine. His weight holds me in place.
At first, I don’t think anything of it until he bites into my skin, causing me to gasp out loud. I dig my nails în his chest through the fabric of his shirt. His fangs bury deeper and deeper, marking me.
“Aron–I cry out.
His free hand slides around my waist and pulls me closer to his chest, holding me firm. Making me realize how powerless I am in the grasp of this beast that wants nothing but me.
I struggle beneath him, twisting my body and thrashing my legs until he stops. He pulls away.
My hand goes straight to my neck, feeling the blood there. It’s wet, warm, and painful.
“You rejected me,” I say, breathing heavily as shiver courses through me. “You can’t-
“I don’t care,” He slips off me, “It’s done.”
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