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A stale metallic scent is clad to the atmosphere. The air is constantly damp and there is no natural light seeping in, whatsoever. My vision is totally dark, the floors and walls a thick cement. The floor tremors lightly everytime someone passes through the hall, though this time I can tell they will be stopping at my cell. I know this because the light footsteps are familiar. They're Alina's.
"I have food for you," she offers, knowing I'm already aware she is here. Our encounters are different than they used to be, it's like seeing me locked up just makes her sad to see me at all. I almost feel bad that she still has to serve me.
She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, sitting down against the iron bars. I'm grateful that she sticks around while I eat, it being at least a week since we've had a real conversation.
"They're really not happy with you, are they?" She sounds sad, and as bad as it may sound, it gives me a bit of happiness to know she's sad to be away from me.
I don't answer for awhile, finishing my plate and sitting in the unmotivated silence. She heaves in a heavy sign, turning my attention back to her.
"We're mates," I add like we were engulfed in a regular conversation. But we aren't, and I hear her turn to me in shock.
"You and . . . ?" She inquires, despite knowing who I'm speaking about. This is the first time I've seen her since I've been in here, and I figure I really have nothing else to lose.
"Alaric and I are mates." My voice comes out feeble and distraught. I try and suppress the emotions attempting to all come out right now, but my wolf is so emotional. Hearing me say it out loud to someone must make her miss him, on behalf of the mate bond.
In all actuality, I know nothing about Alaric. Truly, his character scares me, known widely as the ruthless Alpha to the soulless Alpha Odon. It is expected worldwide for him to retain his legacy as Alpha Odon's son and succeed his records of war and murder. I would never step foot near a man like this, if it wasn't for the mate bond. And it has grown so much stronger since the time I arrived.
"I don't know what to do, Alina," I say, feeling out of breath. It's been almost a week in this cell, a soreness within my bones that I cannot shake.
She sighs as if she knows exactly how I feel. She starts on her words before being interrupted by a guard. He hollers from his post at the end of the cell block, probably taking joy in seeing us exist in our obvious misery.
She gets up and murmurs a goodbye, walking straight towards the exit. I hear the security gates click and reel open and then the same as it closes behind her. I listen as her footsteps fade all the way down the hall, until she is gone.
In contrast to her leaving, echos of boisterous footsteps approach. I assume it's the guard doing his rounds to check on everybody's cells, not that there are many of us down here.
Maybe one or two of us stay confined in the underground jail system of the Sanguine pack. Surprisingly enough, not many are lucky enough to merely be put in a cell. Most of them lose their lives.
I'm not paying any attention when I'm approached, but the smell tells me everything I need to know. That intoxicating, familiar smell that seems to follow me everywhere I go. I can't deny it sparks a joy within me to have him here seeing me, but I realize that letting myself be happy because of him is false. He doesn't actually make me happy, the mate bond does.
It's easy for me to suppress the feelings, having gained the ability from my years of countless disappointments and let downs. I'm accepting that I have met my mate and that he's already spoken for, though I'm not sure if hes ever been taught that he can't keep me under his eye as a pet, while he carries on with his future Luna. That's something I only recently learned, that I should think for myself.
That's why once I am let out of here, if I ever am, I will leave the Bane Walker pack. I have no place here, if I have no mate. Even if Alaric has more recently been kind to me, it's for the same reason I no longer fear him.
"Monet." He says almost coldly, a stark contrast to the way he said my name just yesterday. Everytime I encounter him he is either an angel or a devil, as if he has to fight internally whether he likes me or not. Perhaps he wants to hate me more than he's ever wanted anything, but our bond makes him lenient. I realize I'm thinking within my insecurities and I need to stop, so I just stand and face the iron rods; the only thing between Alaric and I.
I've been around him so much in the last week that it's starting to feel normal, and that thought alone, makes me uneasy.
"Our conversation was unjust," he comments in a flat huff. "and I apologize." I'm taken aback by his sudden sincerity, if you can call it that. His voice still extorts in a muttered coldness, but his words show his intentions. Maybe he truly is sorry about the way the dinner turned out, although it still took him a week to say it.
I wonder what he looks like in this moment. I remember back the my first time as a wolf, the blurry images of his figure standing over me, in my head. I recall those fiery eyes and the way they contravene each other, like day and night swirling around in a blaze.
"Yes, alpha. I agree. . ." I match his stoicism, agreeing with his statement. My voice is quiet, like always, but I hope he picked up on my bluntness. The conversation that happened in front of me at dinner was unjust, and it makes me feel good to let him know.
I like to imagine him feel sorry for what happened, but even in his moments of kindness, I'm not sure he is.
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Word count: 1074