There was a small blizzard in his eyes as they finally turned and settled fully on me.
The gaze shook me up a little, as though his eyes wanted to turn me inside out right in front of him, in the middle of the room. My breath shuddered.
It seemed like an hour before I was finally released, as he wrestled his gaze under wraps and sank back down quietly, his brows furrowed, unblinkingly staring at the plate.
But even in his quietness, the amount of energy that rolled off of him was suffocating, it was felt in the room.
"You done eating?" Bazile asked me slyly.
I wasn't sure what the correct reply to that was.
I needed to go over to him, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that a part of me saw that predatory gaze and instinctively felt like running for my life.
"Empty plate. I think you are." He grabbed my arm and yanked me up.
The power that they had still threw me off guard, I'd never had anyone able to, or willing to, throw me around like these werewolves felt was necessary.
I struggled to my feet and felt mute as he dragged me toward the exit of the dining room.
I had to drag my gaze away from him.
Should I have said anything?
How does one declare that the bite didn't mean anything? Because that was what I felt like I ought to be saying but I didn't totally understand why. Maybe Bazile had a book on basic werewolf biology, I thought as I stumbled after him toward the door.
Just before we left I heard something crunch and snap so loudly it made me jump and as I looked behind me I saw the marble splitting along the edges of the table, chunk of it splintering like chalky glass.
The entire room was watching Lowell, who kept his gaze on the table, his face didn't look as pissed off as the aura he gave off expressed, and the massive crack through the end of the table suggested. He closed his eyes, a vein near his left eye pulsing as he slowly opened his eyes.
I wasn't breathing, I'd forgotten to, I only remembered because his brother yanked me out of the room and shut the door behind me and then I followed him, unthinkingly.
I felt shaken and awkward, dragging my feet after him, saw the slight smile on his lips but was too busy remembering the look on Lowell's face.
He didn't look betrayed, he looked like he was holding back something.
The thing was the moment he slowly opened up his eyes again I thought I saw a glimpse of it calmly showing its fangs, quietly, but clearly.
I shuddered.
~⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣︵⌣~
Bazile laughed heartily as he watched me where I had sat down in the sofa chair in his room, unwilling to move. I couldn't, because every ten seconds there was a new blistering wave of heat that was so strong it nearly bowed me over.
Overwhelming seemed like such a minimalizing word to describe it. I could barely breathe as I tried with all my self to keep calm, to keep a somewhat good posture, to appear unfazed.
But I needed to use more scent disguiser, I knew that, I was sweating, and I could only imagine that was where the scent they spoke about came from. At this point going to the bathroom would be the best option for me, but I didn't trust my legs. If I walked, what would happen if I ended up crawling on the floor, unable to get any further?
Bazile was suddenly in front of me, and I flinched from surprise at seeing him appear like that.
"Look at you..." He grinned, reaching out with his hand, and brushing his fingers over my jawline, letting the searing, chafing, crawling contact force my head away from him. "In heat and all... Did you see my brother? He broke the fucking table." He burst out laughing. "I'm going to reopen this wound till scars." He grinned.
Horrified I closed my eyes with a shudder.
I was beginning to feel sick, my stomach uncomfortably tight, my legs and arms weak. The way I sat had me slightly hunched, my arms pressed to my side, making myself look quite a bit smaller than I actually was, maybe that was one of the reasons why Bazile decided to gloat and peck at me the way he was, without any acknowledgement that I was a fully grown man, older than him even.
"You're not a wolf are you?" He asked, then scoffed. "What am I saying, you're so fucking weak..."
I felt that irritation slice through me but the way my blood was burning up was sufficient to help me ignore it.
"But you were able to hide your scent for so long..." He mused, stepping closer, then crouching for me to be presented with the full benefit of his image in front of me while I struggled through the waves, my skin was burning on one layer, and frozen cold on another. "I was beginning to doubt myself..."
He cocked his head.
I looked away.
"Hey," He glared at me. "You really are pretty ballsy for the mate of a wolf. Even if Lowell's not an alpha he's still a dominant wolf and you're running around acting like you're the alpha or something." He laughed. "My dad's pet peeve. Mom tried that and see where that got her." He tutted.
I could barely hear what he was saying as I shuddered, a particularly painful wave making my stomach twist and turn, and I bowed my head a little more.
How much longer could I bare this? I asked myself. Before I would have to ask for medical assistance?
He grabbed my chin suddenly and forced my head up to my displeasure, the feeling of burning ants crawling under my skin so close to my face.
"I'm serious-" He frowned, sniffing at me as he leaned in. I pulled back as best I could but had a grip on my collar and wouldn't let go. I couldn't bring myself to touch his hand so I just leaned back. "There it is..."
He pulled back eventually, an increasing grin on his face as he straightened back up, looming over me.
"That scent..." He breathed in. "Proves you're a little liar."
I swallowed, leaning back against the chair. "Under the circumstances I don't see why that surprises you."
He seemed a little startled, then laughed. "It doesn't."
"Good."
"It is good." He nodded. "I enjoy watching you suffer. Maybe I'll let you stay here in my room, watch you slowly go mad while he pounds at the doors, they're lined with silver, you know, under a heavy coating of course. I'll bet given how much you're struggling right now, I could break you in a day."
He laughed loudly, as if considering it in his head.
"I wonder if you'll give in and start begging for the dick that's closest to you." He cocked his head. "Is that how it works? I've never actually seen a male mate before. Let's call this a science experiment..."
"Leave me alone." I bit out.
"I could but I don't want to." He shrugged. "You're my entertainment. Watching you two destroy each other inevitably."
"Then why gloat about it." I bit out. "Why waste both mine and your time playing the role of Cruella De Vil like some sort of cartoon..." I had to pause to breathe, a wave of heat causing me to shiver as I hugged my sides. "Cartoon villain."
The smile was slowly wiped off his face while he stood and tried to think of something mocking to give as a reply no doubt.
After a moment of silence he found his words. "Maybe because that's who I am." He narrowed his eyes and leaned in, pointing his index finger at me as though he was about to stick it in my eye. "Maybe I'm not pretending."
"Maybe you are," I acquiesced. "But considering you had to opportunity to do real harm to the both of us since yesterday and you haven't taken it I'm more comfortable thinking of you as the insecure little boy you are. Wearing your father's leather jacket, posing in the mirror flexing your biceps, imagining how you might act if you didn't have a heart under there, one that's not constantly hurt your father clearly prefers your brother over you, probably always has."
His eyes went wide as I spoke, and in the momentary relief of seeing that smugness, that mocking laughter and malintent wash out in the suddenly pale features as he listened, I continued.
"And you're probably so fixated on his impression of you, busy debating how much of it is your own fault, that you haven't stopped to realise nothing, not even the question, matters.
"That you slowly got addicted to the misery of it all. So wrapped up in your useless relationship with your father that you see him in everyone. So you waltz around like the big bad wolf, trying to make people hate you out of habit, but really you're a lost little boy who no longer knows how to talk to anyone, or even-"
He grabbed my face hard, and the pain that came from his hand was cruelly combined with an immediate screaming from my skin, wanting to repel him with my everything. I even grabbed his hand to pry the hand off of me but it was useless as I was pinned back, my neck craning at an uncomfortable angle.
"I'm not-" He growled, baring his fangs, scary sharp things. "I'm not any of that. You want me to prove who I am to you so desperately?"
He grabbed at the buttons of my shirt and I desperately tried to keep them closed but I was still unused to how much vastly stronger everyone here was than me, getting in the way of his hands managed to hurt my fingers without even nudging his hands.
"What-" He ignored the last button on my shirt and ripped it off of me, the cool air a blessing and a curse, my horror coming second place to shock.
He hauled me to my feet and I could barely walk, only stumble.
"Bastard." He hissed as he dragged me to the door.
"What are you doing?" I asked him quietly, feeling dazed as my brain ultimately focussed on the feeling of his hand on my arm, some of the effects at least dulled by my clothing.
"I'm helping you." He grinned at me, without any semblance of a smile in his eyes. "You want to mate so badly?" He shoved me out of the door. "Have fun."
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