Saved by the King

Forty Six*

"Fixing it" apparently meant hours of Alice sitting silently next to me with both hands grasping my head. She said she was searching for a way to close the end of the Bond where it had previously been connected with Logan. Right now, apparently, it was bleeding out, which is why I was dying.

It was dark now, as I had been laying on that couch all day. Alice hadn't even shifted for at least three hours, and I could feel her presence inside my head, rummaging around and trying to fix the Bond. It was a weird feeling, but at least it wasn't painful. Plus, she made it clear that Aamon could not interrupt her at all, so I got a few full hours free from his beatings. I even dozed off a few times.

When the sun was completely gone from the sky and the living room was pure darkness, Alice finally moved her hands and sat back in her chair. "Wow, time flies," she said quietly.

I couldn't see, but I heard her stand up and move away, then the click of a light switch that bathed the room in a soft yellow light.

Aamon had gone upstairs about an hour ago, and I assumed he was sleeping. Alice sat back down in the wooden chair she had been occupying and looked at me intensely.

"I can't find anything," she said. "Your Bond with him was very strong. I don't think I can fix it without restoring it completely, and your mate would have to be here for it to work. It would be dangerous even then."

That was it, then. She handed me my death sentence and I took it, and there was nothing I could do about it. My immune system was shutting down, and it wouldn't take long for my organs to follow suit if my brain didn't go first. A strange thought popped into my head, one that had been nagging me for a while, and for whatever reason I felt the compulsion to ask Alice about it right then.

"The first time Aamon brought me here," I said suddenly, "you told him that we had Shifted, but the Bond still wasn't completed."

She nodded. "That's the only reason it didn't kill you then and there. If it was a full Bond, you would have died instantly, along with your mate."

I got momentarily sidetracked by that statement. "I thought males go crazy when the other dies," I said in confusion. Alice nodded.

"They do. When the Bond is broken, though, it's instantly fatal. Bonds aren't meant to be broken, but the death of a partner actually occurs quite frequently."

I shook my head. "No, that's not what I wanted to ask you. I thought my Bond was complete."

She sat back in her chair, resting her head against it and closing her eyes. "You were wrong."

"How? Why?" It shouldn't have mattered, what with the fact that I would most likely die before I even got to see him again, but the idea of having been fully Bonded to Logan was comforting. Even if it didn't even last a month.

Alice rubbed her temples slowly, looking like she had a headache. "You never had sex, " she said bluntly.

"He never told me that was part of it," I said in irritation.

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised, given your history."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, playing dumb. I had a good idea of what that meant, but I was incredulous that she knew about it. How did she find out?

"It means," she said, just as irritated as I felt, "that I don't think this is the first time you've dealt with this," she motioned upstairs where Aamon was sleeping, "and that I imagine your mate wasn't eager to pressure you into anything."

"How did you...?" I trailed off. As far as I knew, the extent of Alice's knowledge of me was what Aamon told her, and I didn't see him reminiscing with her about old times from when I was in the Trade. Alice shook her head in disapproval.

"I've been around for...almost 900 years now. I learned things. Besides, your story isn't actually that difficult to put together. You have scars all over you, most of which are more than a year old. So, they weren't caused by Aamon. At least, not all of them. You have a mate, who obviously didn't give you those scars, but you haven't been with him long enough to complete the Bond. It isn't rocket science."

I was stunned at first, but when I considered it, she was right. My story wasn't that hard to deduce. A new question formed into my head, the question I really wanted to ask. I was scared of Alice's reaction, though, and even more scared of the answer. She seemed to be able to tell I was struggling with something, and stood up abruptly to cut off my thoughts.

"I'm going to bed," she said. "How are you feeling?"

I didn't care how casual she acted with me, I still despised her. "Like I'm dying," I snapped with all the venom I could muster. I didn't want her to fix me; I wanted to die, but she wouldn't help me with that, either.

She only rolled her eyes and swept out of the room.

***

Two rough hands closing tightly around my arms jerked me awake. Too tightly-they were holding me too tightly-and I involuntarily cried out at the pain that shot down my arms. I was jerked upwards until I was face-to-face with Aamon. Even though it was pitch-black, I could see the anger smoldering in his eyes. "Shut up," he hissed.

Before I had time to register what was happening, Aamon wrenched me off the couch into a standing position, his hands getting impossibly tighter around my already-bruised arms. "Get. Up."

He threw me roughly towards the front door, and I predictably crashed to the ground. He swung the front door open on silent hinges, and dull starlight barely illuminated the hallway. Within seconds, I was dragged out the door and onto Alice's wooden porch.

"We're leaving," Aamon growled in my ear as he yanked me to my feet by my hair. I thankfully had the sense not to make any noise, even though it felt like he was ripping my hair out.

There was no moon that night, and I was essentially blind except for the dull starlight. Aamon, being a werewolf, could obviously see fine, and firmly led me towards what I assumed to be the car with his hand around the back of my neck.

And seconds later, my suspicions were confirmed. I was literally pushed against a car door, so forcefully that I somehow cut my lip. I didn't waste time, though; I quickly opened the door and scrambled inside on shaky legs to prevent further punishment. Alice's attempts to fix the Bond didn't fix how weak I was becoming; even the short distance between Alice's door and the car had me feeling dizzy and nauseous and out of breath. Seconds later, Aamon got in the car and slammed the door shut. The whole car shook from the impact.

Keys in the ignition, and automatic lights turned on with the engine. Aamon slammed on the gas, the car rocked forward, and soon we were speeding down the gravel road at an alarming speed. The automatic lights eventually shut off, and Aamon didn't need headlights, so I couldn't even see the road but I could feel how quickly the car was moving. I considered putting on my seatbelt, but decided against it. Dying in a car crash would be good fortune at this point.

The car ride was shorter than usual, considering our speed. As we pulled into Aamon's dusty dirt driveway, unfortunately in one piece, Aamon spoke.

"She thinks she can take you away from me?" he asked, muttering to himself manically. "After all I've done? No, you're mine. Mine."

~~~
Hey, guys! Sorry for the late update again, I'll try to do better!

Just a reminder that this story is rated Mature. I'm not promising anything, but there's a chance that in future chapters some things might not be appropriate/enjoyable for all ages. Fair warning! 😁

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