Captured: Serving The Alpha

The Queens Return

Samuel kept her body close to his until the early hours of the morning. The two mates had found themselves seated against the trunk of a tree, the Alphas back lined against its bark as Scarlett straddled his hips and her upper body tucked and huddled against his chest. His own body heat kept her warm as the temperatures dropped and time passed, his own demeanor remaining unaffected as he held her close with one arm and his other allowed his hand to stroke the long red locks he had carefully dismantled from her meticulously style braided bun.

They had to wait out the clock, and wait for when the hubbub of the commotion they both had caused dwindled and people lost their rabid interest into both of their disappearances. It went without being said, that Samuel was not at all threatened by the small town people with their donut laden sheriffs patrolling around idly on the empty streets, but he had just gotten his mate back and had no interest in making her transition back home any more difficult than it had to be. Their time spent in wait was not by any means unbearable, at least not for him. He soaked her up and absorbed the sensations and their warmth that they provided to him entirely. He found that he liked this part of his mate ship the best. This was his favorite part.

It was quiet, and there was nothing but the sounds of the forest that surrounded them in their stillness. Neither one of them has words to say to one another, as neither one knew just exactly what to say. Samuel had found his relief, and his ship had finally come out of the turbulent waters of despair to meet the soothing tides of a new day matched with a brilliant horizon. However, he was also aware that she did not receive the same sensations from their reunion, and yet she made not even one attempt to leave.

Scarlett was conflicted. She had found a semblance of peace in the absence of him. She had made and quickly paved her own life without him, but that life was also filled with constant worry and a more than prevalent anxiety. In the back of her head there was always that fear of him showing up, of him coming to reclaim and possess her once again. However, she would have been a liar if she had said that a part of her didn't want to be found.

Samuel was so addictive, especially when it came to moments like this. Moments like this, where she truly felt loved and cared for. He managed to fill an emptiness that had always been present within her, where she felt accepted and comforted. However, he was also a double edged sword, just as quickly as he could give it, he could take and rip it away. He could be callous and cruel, and had an intense driving need to punish which equally matched his desire to cherish. The polarity of Samuel and the ups and downs of him, is what both sucked her back in as well as pushed her away.

Moments like these, she could see it was possible for him to allow her to bask in his glowing warmth, but when he flipped, she lost all desire and want to engage with him. It was a push and pull, a tragic tease. She so desperately wanted him to be the Samuel she loved all the time, that she put up with and willingly dealt with the hurt of his other side, in the hopes for just one more taste of his gentle grace.

He was peculiar and he was eccentric. He even altered her tastes into being more aligned with his, with his gentle persuasions. He was gruff and rough, but even these parts of his personality she could no longer find any fault, that was who he was and she learned to accept that these traits would always be apart of him. What she could not accept, was when he turned against her. What she could not accept, was his lack of trust and his lack of faith, in her. Which was made evident, each time he felt he needed to use force in order to garner complete and utter control over her own person.

He had carefully molded and crafted her desire and affection towards him, and yet he still kept her at an arms length. He would hide things from her, hide himself from her and completely shut her out... and that was probably what hurt the most. The emotional recoiling and withdrawal, the removal of that comforting warmth. That was isolating and cold. That was what made her bitter and angry. Not the forceful hands or the callous physical blows, both of those entirely unappreciated as well, but what was more damaging was the constant denial of access to him. Scarlett was tough, and she was thick skinned, but her heart was soft and weak. She could handle his aggression, but she could not handle his continuous wordless rejections.