~Monet's POV~
He sits on the other side of the cell, peering in at me through the bars. Some say that mates can feel the gaze of their partner, and well, I wouldn't say it's a lie. My lips feel fuzzy as I lick them, my eyes a mess of tingles as I blink the dryness away.
Just like yesterday, he came down to the jail to visit me. This time, unlike the other times, he's being sweet to me. He started off cold and distant, but as time passed, he lowered down to the floor. His demeanor is ironic, considering he's the reason I am down here.
It's been quiet for awhile and I can't help but think about the dilapitated rocks of the cliff bottom. I thought about his behaviour then, and how he kindly made himself known, then sat and told me a story from his childhood. It felt good to hear him sound so sincere and personal, and I wonder how often he's like that.
Thinking about it made me want to know more about my mate, even if I have already made up my mind about leaving. It would kill me to leave without knowing the truth, and I'm not sure I'm ready to leave this possibility behind until I find it.
"How are you, alpha?" I ask in a stray of sympathy and curiosity. I can't keep my stomach from bubbling in anticipation as I await his answer. I expect him to give a brief, casual answer, though I'm met with neither.
"I'm not your alpha, I'm your mate." He says so low it sounds almost painful, and I know from that alone that he's already fallen for the bond. And it hurts me to say, but I have been suppressing the feelings so much that I can hardly say I feel the same. Though, nobody can deny that his next words make the bond hit me square in the face.
"And you can call me Alec." He murmurs as if he told me his deepest insecurity, and it makes me frown. It's not even what he says that makes feel it, it's the time of his voice. A shy, sad whisper. I try not to let it make me feel any different, his attempts at being kind only bothering me slightly. But I know we are not equals, he is an Alpha and I do not compare.
The bond makes me yearn to hear his voice just once more before he departs, but the sensible part of my brain doesn't care about anything he has to say. Nothing will make me want him now, only the superficial mate bond attracts me to him. If it weren't for that, we would have never crossed paths, and we would both be better for it.
Maybe I would be on his side, had he only treated me better. Since being here, this cell, deprived of sunlight, I have only hate for the Alpha of the Sanguine pack. He can't keep me in here forever, I don't believe he wants to.
It's been another while of neither of us saying anything, awkwardness blanketing the air. Moved from a crouching position to a sitting one, and that's how we've been for probably an hour. Doesn't he have Alpha things to do? Maybe he wants company.
He must've seen the thought etched into my face, because he begins to talk again.
"You look uncomfortable," he stated, like I'd be comfortable anywhere near him.
"How could I be?" I forced out, louder and faster than I expected. It makes me frown again, I don't want to be impulsive. For now on, I answer with only calculated responses. I make sure to maintain formality, knowing how it frustrates him. If only he felt a fraction of what he made me feel.
"I didn't want this, Monet." He says just above a whisper. His gaze droned over my body, starting at my legs, to my torso, arms, shoulders, collarbone, neck. . .
The only way I can describe the feeling, is like sunlight through a magnifying glass. The heat traces along your body, leaving gentle kisses of tingles in its absence. He must know what he's doing.
"Then what did you want, Alpha?" I stumble only a little, my speech better than when I got to this pack. My voice is shy, lacking confidence. I make sure to add Alpha at the end, letting him know that's all I think of him as.
I can hear the click of his lips open, beginning a sentence he cuts off before he can begin. He sighs in frustration, rubbing his face. I hear the scratch of his hands against the gruff on his face, his fingers grabbing hanfuls of his tousled hair. I hear it all, I hear and feel his exasperation.
"I don't know." Is all he settles with, no chance of a further explaination. "But I know I want you."
~
Alina brought me lunch and dinner that day, after Alaric's appearance with my breakfast. It's been a few more days, and he's visited once again. It was short, he delivered my food and brought some necessities for me. A clean blanket, a comb, lip balm. I truly feel pampered to have these items all to myself, though I have accepted from Alina's constant reassurance, owning these things are the bare minimum. I learn that's she's right, though I am still grateful. I've never had these things before now, cell or not.
Alina tells me how not much has changed in the two weeks I've been down here, and I tell her about Alaric and I. She still can't grasp that we are mates, so I told her everything that's happened, good and bad.
"I used to idolize their family," Alina said in a saddened tone, hearing about how rude the prior Luna and Alpha had been. I wondered how someone can idolize a person like Alpha Odon and support his causes to war, but then I remember that the people in this pack are loyal to their Alpha, if they're anything.
Right now, I'm sitting in the same position I have been for days. It's not like I can do much else, except for combing my oily hair. I'm sure there's a small pile of hairs I picked out if the comb waddled up by now, as well. Some of the prongs have snapped off in the process of ripping though knots, rendering the tool almost ineffective. Still, it keeps my hands busy while I sit and contemplate my situation.
There's not much I can look forward to aside from when Alina brings me food, and I've even become grateful for when Alaric visits, because at least I'm not alone for those few desperate minutes. It makes me feel utterly weak to desire a conversation with someone and anyone, this much. I never felt this way back at my old pack, but since then I've come to enjoy having company.
My back aches constantly and my shoulders are always droopy, the damp atmosphere clinging a layer of sweat to my body. The smell that radiates from me is a hybrid of my scent and the decades of dust gathered within the fibres of the cell.
Aside from Alina and a quiet guard, there has been no other movement down here.
I let my tired hands fall to my sides in a thump, hours of light brushing though my hair, stealing all of my energy. My head tilts back against the cold wall behind me, my eyes feeling heavy and head starting to ache. I almost feel myself lull into a sleep, until I hear a tapping that my mind must be conjuring to keep me awake. I attempt to push it out of focus, and for a few minutes, it works.
I'm in a dream, in the forest outside of the estate. I hear the same sound as before, then a reel opening and squeaky metal against a grindy surface. It's out of place in this settings, but my dreaming conscience doesn't process that. The atmosphere is cold and damp, a mist of rain almost floating to the ground. Two people emerge from the estate, one I've never met before, and one being a familiar figure, possibly even myself.
I feel a movement in my shoulders, an echo of the unfamiliar man's voice. I can't make out what he's saying, but it's as if he's omnipresent. His voice fills in the space between all tangible, palpable things.
The two people travel side by side, their footsteps loud and hurried. They stammer through the brush, passing me by. I hear their heavy breaths and they make they away past, then catch a stronger waft of their scents. The unfamiliar man has a foresty scent, and the woman's is sweet, almost unnoticeable. It's my own.
I feel my body being shook again, the echo clearer this time. They yell into me, pushing me out of the conscience plain I was in. I'm waking up.
I jolt forward, hands on either side of me, my heart racing and my breath uneven. I'm engulfed in a fresh scent of someone I've never met, yet I know who they are. Without ever seeing them, I know what they're here for, and I know I need to trust them.
"I can help you, let's go," he says, and I stand.
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Word Count: 1572
Hi everyone!
Since Blind Instincts will be soon coming to an end, I have another book I've been working on. For now the title is Spaewife, and this is the cover.
Things are still set to change, but if you're interested give me a follow and it will be published soon. :)