Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Khea
I haven’t seen him since that night.
It’s been days, but he’s not here–not in this house.
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I haven’t even caught a glimpse of his shadow anywhere in the halls. Marcella tells me he’ll be back at his own time and she gives me no specific reason as to why he is away,
She couldn’t. Or maybe she refuses to
I doubt she’d say much to me anyway after what I did–going into that room after I was strictly warned not to. And all because I listened to my wolf. My wolf. Sometimes, I wonder if it was even her or if it was something else, something deep within.
Whatever the reason, the result is clear.
I did wrong, I made a mistake. And now the anger that Aron has toward me, of whatever reason it is, has grown ten times.
I don’t want to venture into that thought, though, I don’t want to have to ever recall that frightening moment when he looked like an entirely different person in front of me. I still don’t know if I can truly blame him. I entered a room that I shouldn’t have.
I’m trying not to let it ruin me, but not knowing where he is is doing that.
It’s creating a hollow in the pit of my stomach, a discomfort in my chest, something close to a sensation that resembles worry. A constant anxiousness that echoes at the back of my mind. Where is he? Why hasn’t he returned? Is he okay?
1 can only hope he is,
“Drink. It will get cold, and you’ll not like the taste of it then” Marcella snaps me out of my thoughts.
I look down at the tea in my hands, the same herbal tea I’ve been drinking that knocks me off and helps me heal. Healing. I stare at the rim of the cup for a minute and then bring it to my lips before taking a sip.
It’s cold, but I can’t tell Marcella that.
I hate how, because of me, she’s in trouble. I try to do whatever she wants me to do and hope that she can, too, forgive me for what I did that day-
Going into that room.
“Is it cold?”
“No” I shake my head, drinking most of it. “It’s fine.”
She nods and turns away, continuing with her work. I finish up my tea, and with that, I go straight up the stairs and into the room where I’m supposed to remain. I fear going anywhere else, of being caught again. I didn’t intend to go into that part of the house or near that room–it was just the wolf who needed to go. She didn’t understand.
I don’t think I understand either. But the thing I understand is that it was a mistake.
As soon as I’m under the sheets, Marcella comes to check on me. She has kept a close eye on me since that night.
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Chapter 57
“Do you need anything?”
I shake my head, “No.”
“Sleep well then,” She says as she grabs the door knob. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
My eyes linger over her as she starts to close the door, but I stop her before she leaves. “I want to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Is he here?”
“No.”
I blink, chewing on my bottom lip. There’s an ache. I can’t help it, and I can’t help asking about it either.
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“There’s one more thing,” I whisper, my eyes dropping lower and lower from the tea. I tilt my head.over the pillow while still looking at Marcella. “There was something that night when that man was here-”
“Kavos.”
“Yes,” I remember now. She did tell me when I first came here. “Him. He said something-” I swallow tightly, eyes falling.
“What?” she presses.
I look at her again, biting the tip of my lip as I try to dig it out of my mind. The voice rings in my mind like a clock, ticking
away.
“He called him by a name,” My memory recalls. I didn’t register it at that moment, but later, when I was alone, it hit me. “He called him Kael and not by his name. What does that mean?”
Her eyes grow hesitant, and I can sense the shift of mood around her.
“I don’t know. I’ve never heard that name before.”
She knows. She is lying, I can tell. I can’t pinpoint as to how I can but I can tell it is a lie. But this time, I don’t argue about it. I simply nod as I’m too weary to push the topic any further.
She leaves after that and switches off the lights on her way out. The door remains partly open. I can see the hall light outside, but it’s not too bright to wake me.
I turn to the other side of the bed, facing the window, and close my eyes. It’s only a matter of a few seconds before I’m asleep. I dream of nothing, as sleep is like a vacuum where dreams can’t take form. My wolf sleeps, too, silently.
It’s dark out when I open my eyes again. I can only see darkness from the corner of my eyes.
I wake
up
cold and clueless, and when I turn, I gasp softly, my hands clutching the side of the mattress.
My gaze follows his form. He stands so high, so broad, as he enters the room. It’s only a shadow that I see at first. When my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, I can make him out a little better.
“You scared me,” I whisper, sitting up on the mattress while he stands over near the doorway.
He remains standing, silent, while my heart thrashes hard inside my chest, the emotions as muddled as my scattered thoughts.
“I did?”
“A little.”
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He’s back–now. And I’m not sure if I’m glad or afraid. He steps inside, away from the door and near to me. I take in a deep breath as he sits down, inches away from my legs that are under the cover.
The cold only continues to grow around me.
“I’m sorry for-”
I barely get the words out before he cuts me, “It’s alright. You don’t have to.”
“I will not go there again,” I assure him.
“I know you won’t.”
His eyes narrow down upon the blanket before they trail upward to my hands and then my face again. When I see his eyes, they are dark, still dark, and they weren’t always like this. Right?
“Are you okay? I ask him.
“Why wouldn’t you think so?”
I search his features, trying to find something, anything, just the slightest reaction. “You were really angry.”
“For a moment, perhaps.”
“More than a moment.”
“Okay,” he says quietly, placing his hand on my thigh through the sheets. The weight of his touch forces me to stay still. “Sometimes I can get like that.”
“Are you still angry?”
His eyes drop low, “I was. Now, I am not.”
For some reason, that doesn’t reassures me. I feel like he’s still angry or that he still is thinking of that night. And I can’t shake the feeling away.
His hand lingers on my thigh, the heaviness of his touch still foreign to me. I swallow tightly, watching as his eyes trail over my form before he leans in closer and meets my gaze.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I whisper, my chest growing tight from nerves.
“Like what?”
“That.” I blink back. “Like you want to kill me.”
He pauses for a moment, lifting a brow, “I don’t want to kill you.”
“No?”
“No.”
My voice trembles as I speak, “Then what do
you
want?”
“Come here.”
I part myself from the headrest and shuffle over. I am closer now, but not close enough. He lifts his free hand and runs his knuckles gently across the back of my head before he reaches for the back of my neck. His fingers wrap around it, holding it ever so lightly and not letting it go, “I want you.”
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My heart picks up. His fingers trace the nape of my neck. I shiver, “Me?”
“Yes.” He whispers into my hair. He brings himself closer. “Only you.”
“For what?” I whisper, my throat constricting with tension.
“Everything.” He speaks. His nose strokes my carlobe, inhaling.
“Will you hurt me?”
His eyes snap, sharp, “Never.”
“But you were so angry.”
“Don’t ever go there again, and I won’t be.”
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My hands clench against the side of the mattress, my eyes unable to meet his. I’m afraid even to breathe, to move, to say another word as his hand still remains curled around my thigh. He hasn’t let it go for a moment, not once since he has placed it there. It’s both scary and soothing to feel him so close.
I almost lose my train of thought, and concentration slips for a moment before it returns again. I take a steady breath. feeling my chest rise and fall.
“I won’t,” I whisper.
He leans in before his hand moves to my chin, his thumb grazing over my bottom lip, “I know you won’t. I just needed to make sure-” His mouth closes in, brushing against mine. “-that you understand.”
I close my eyes, letting the soft graze of his lips take my consciousness away. His thumb parts from my lips as his lips press fully against mine, and then his hand moves from the curve of my jaw to the center of my cheek, angling my face up to his
His other hand remains still on my leg, but unlike the one on my face, it doesn’t move either.
He deepens the kiss, each and every second passing. There’s no moment of hesitance or reluctance, he kisses me with all he can, as if he wants me to forget every line, worry, and doubt.
And it works. It silences my mind.
Until he pulls away.
I move back, taking in a deep breath, my chest heaving a little as I fix my gaze on him.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I can.”
AD
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