Crave ✔

Chapter 27

       But was it even the Elders? Perhaps it was just some random family that got in his way at the wrong time.

       Rumors. Rumors from before started flashing through my mind. The King of the North, a great, terrifying being who showed no mercy. Who killed if you looked at him the wrong way- or if you looked at him at all.

       A Man who would dismember you in front of your family just for wandering into his lands. A beast who would kill a village just because they pissed him off.

       I staggered backwards, my palm pressed to my suddenly throbbing forehead- but the action only seemed to worsen his already explosive anger. He let out a dark growl, and then was in front of me in a flash- his black eyes glaring down at me like two dark, burning, coals.

       "Yes-" His voice came out as a dark snarl, sharp teeth biting into his bottom lip. This was not the same man who had held me so gently the other morning.

       "I killed them. Every last one of those pathetic Underlings that dared called themselves Elders."

       I flinched back from that hard bite in his voice with wide, and slightly terrified eyes. All rumors stemmed from something, and this North looked like he couldn't care less whether I was his mate or not. Just another Underling who he could easily tear apart.

       "You shouldn't be so surprised." He snarled, the light from the ceiling reflecting wickedly in the black of his eyes. "I am a wolf-borne- mate. Fulfilling monstrous actions is what we do. What we enjoy."

       "Easy North, Emrie doesn't-"

       North's black gaze snapped to Eildor's, his lips pulled back in a life-threatening snarl as he growled at his General. I eased further away from him. This was all- too- much...

       "You killed them... They didn't do anything!" I shouted up at the still furious, blood soaked Eirik, but that did nothing to calm his rage.

       "They fucked up everything!" His voice came out as roar, one so loud it caused my ears to throb in pain.

       There were tears pricking my eyes, a few falling to my cheeks before I could stop them. My head was pounding, my lungs unbreathing, and I could barely make out anything besides the black dots dancing around my vision.

       This Eirik was terrifying. He was the man of the stories, of the rumors. This was the true King of the North.

       And of course I blacked out because he simply yelled at me.

-&-

       I groaned against the pounding behind my skull and blinked my eyes open. The room was dark, the air cold as warm blankets pinned me to the bed. There was no light shining in its bleak expanse. I let out a shaky breath.

       How did I get here?

       There was movement at my side, a soft rustling of fabric, before the bed dipped softly beside me. I blinked up into the darkness. "Are you okay?" North's voice was gentle, caring even, but it took me a moment before I realized the light shining down at me was the glow of his blue eyes.

       "My head hurts." I murmured as I pressed my palm to my throbbing skull.

       His blue eyes darkened and a flicker of memory shot through my mind, then another, and another until I remembered just what had landed me in such a predicament.

       I'm sure he heard the hitch in my breath, or noticed how I leaned slightly away from his heavy weight at my side, because he let out a soft sigh.