Amber throws herself onto the bed, laughing as loud as she possibly can, and she claps her hands now and again as if to amplify her laughter. I sit by the dressing table, hands rubbing my thighs as I pout at her, waiting for her fits of laughter to subside. And it does. Eventually, it does.
"Are you..." she giggles, now lifting herself onto her elbows and looks at me over her watermelons for breasts. "Are you insane? I mean, you devoured him and I am proud of you for standing your ground, but the Alpha? You're a human! He's a beast, a werewolf! He could have quite literally ripped you to shreds if he wanted to— and, he did, indeed, want to. I mean, you threatened his title as Alpha. You questioned his position. No one does that and walks out untouched. That much was obvious. You are so beyond insane. Brave, but a death wish is what you have."
Threatened his position. Questioned his title as Alpha. I didn't think it was that bad. I was just making an example.
"Yeah well, being reminded I'm nothing special, a human being, being mates with a person of high significance isn't fun after a while, and I was not going to let his father rub it in my pores." I huff, folding my arms.
I mean... I guess after the dinner, and after stuffing my stomach enough, I had to really sit and think about what I did. I was out of line, this I can admit, and even though I did feel some burst of confidence to say that to a whole adult with such a high position... and Micah's father, at that, I started thinking that maybe I was being a bit disrespectful. It's Mariah's husband after all, and I'm sure she was just as much shocked as surprised. And I don't think it was in a good way.
She might have already pulled Micah to the side and told him to never let me back here for stepping out of line. Can I blame her?
I can't help but frown. "I should apologise, shouldn't I?"
"If you regret every last word you said, then yes. But I say, no."
I guess. I guess.
"Well, I should be heading home soon enough. I'll take your dress home and wash it, and you'll get it when you get it. Do you wear it often?"
"Not really, no. So you can keep it if you want."
I hum, standing up before gathering my items. I fold my clothes neatly with a sigh and shove my phone between the items, sparing the girl a moment's glance. She has a fat grin on her face, twinkling green eyes observing me and my movements.
"What?"
"No, nothing. I'm just admiring my future Luna, is all—"
"Andrea."
"No, seriously." She now sits up straight, hands still supporting her top half on the luscious bed. "Look, it may seem odd and stuff, but you proved yourself worthy back there. Sure it was a bit... spicy, but I think every last witness grasped the idea that you would be their future Luna when the current Alpha steps down and gives his title to Micah. I think Mariah would be pleased and perhaps is pleased that you're by Micah's side. You're not a pushover... okay, you kind of are but—" I gasp, throwing my unoccupied hand up in surrender. "But! You showed that you could be a true, strong and independent Luna, back at the dinner. You stood your ground. Abraham knows now that you're firm when threatened, and you don't back down."
"Yet I was close to being scattered human flesh and bones moments after. You said it yourself."
The red headed girl laughs, nodding. "I mean, I know, but still. Besides, once you have that title, no one could threaten you. Sure, words might get tossed around and stuff, but no one would dare harm you physically, unless they have a death wish of their own."
My hand subconsciously scratches my forehead as I process what she says. Not so long ago, I was against this idea, and now here I am contemplating and fighting (if I can even call it that) for a position partially beyond comprehension. A Luna over a pack of wolves. Sounds foreign, other mere humans would think I've lost it.
I think I've lost it. Partially, at least.
"I should... go home. Think about everythi—"
"Don't doubt yourself, Gert." Andrea now huffs as she gets up and stands before me. She has both hands on my shoulders and turns me so I face her properly. A small, comforting smile is stitched on her features. "Don't do that. You've come this far to come this far, haven't you? It would all be for nothing. It can't. I doubt Micah would even let you think twice. Soon enough, he's going to have to imprint on you and that's that. No second guessing it now, because when that's done, it's official. You're his sealed mate, imprinted on, and when Abraham steps down? You and Micah are up."
She then walks towards the door lazily, waving her hand about as she releases a breathless laugh.
"And then, it's babies here and there, everywhere. That's the part you should be fearful of."
"Giving birth to wolves?" I mumble, following in her footsteps.
Andrea laughs now; she opens the door and turns to me with a loose grin, almost. "Ahm, humans can't give birth to wolves. You'll give birth to a human. The kid will learn to transition to a wolf when the time is right. You've nothing to worry about. But if you do give birth to a live wolf..." she pouts. "Scary."
It's my turn to give her a breathless laugh, and I scratch my cheek. "Well. I guess time will tell."
"Exactly. One step at a time though. Now, get going. I'm sure he's waiting for you." She pulls me in for a hug. A tight one at that, and I succumb to her comfort she briefly provides before we pull away.
Then, I'm out the door, waving at her and heading out the mansion and to Micah's car, like he had told me to, after dinner. I guess I can't exactly be surprised to find the car unlocked, but I am surprised to find a huge Tupperware containing an insane amount of food. There's a smaller one that has dessert.
Speaking of dessert, it was my first time having an Italian dish, I believe it was, called Canoli. Or something. I don't know, but I do know that I had one too many and I enjoyed each and every bite of it. I don't exactly have a sweet tooth but those Canolis spoke sweet nothings to me and I enjoyed every careless whisper.
It's not long before I see Micah exit the house, one hand rubbing through his tousled hair and the other, looking as though it's in the back pocket of his pants. I also notice the figure by the wide window at the side of the house, standing by the curtains and observing Micah.
It's his father, Abraham, as I can now recognise him. Him standing there, much like the first time I saw him standing there, kind of sends shivers down my spine. I'm gripping on my clothes a little tighter.
Micah gets inside, almost banging the door shut which surprises me enough to jolt. I say nothing, not wanting to upset him more than he clearly is. My head turns towards him just a bit, and my lips roll in my mouth, and my eyes look over at his stiff and quiet being. I'm not surprised to see him staring right back at the figure, his father, for as good as a couple of seconds if not a full minute.
It's the notification sound from my phone that makes the first sound between us. His eyes instantly dart over at my phone and remains there for a second or three, then he looks up at me. His eyes have a grey tint, so I know I'm not crazy to think he's upset.
"You have everything?"
I can only nod.
The ride back home is a bit too silent for my liking. None of us say anything. I don't know if he's waiting for me to say something or if it's visa versa. The air is kind of thick between us, like cutting it with an axe or something, would do the trick. My butt is clenched in fear of farting and creating more of a tension, and even when I swallow, I do it slowly to try not to be too loud.
It's obvious he's upset. I'm not sure what about, but he is. It could be me, perhaps because I spoke out of turn. He did say to never do it again for his sake, maybe he was also a bit irritated that I spoke down to his father, questioning his position in the pack.
Or maybe he's upset with his father? It wasn't exactly rainbows and sunshine during the dinner, and the subtle but obvious back and forth they had going on was evident to the rest of us that he wasn't happy with his father. Maybe his father has made up his mind, and decided I'm not fit for his son. Maybe that's why Micah is upset?
So maybe it's both? I can imagine his father told him that he won't be Alpha anymore because of me, but Micah wasn't that fond of being one anyway. Unless maybe, he changed his mind and he actually does want to be the Alpha and it's now on hold?
Maybe it's because I disappointed him, despite him saying he was proud.
The thoughts pile up in my head, enough for me to start overthinking about all the possible reasons. My heart pounds within my chest, and my stomach feels as though it's lowered itself to the bottom of my stomach. I can't even help squeezing my thighs at the uncomfortable feeling that washes over me.
Regret? Guilt? I can't say for sure.
So many options, and I won't know because we're seated in the car, silent, pretending the other isn't here in order to just get through this while we still can.
Well, that's all until my stomach breaks the silence by growling as loud as the heavens can hear. My jaw drops in surprise, before I clear my throat to try act casual about it, even though my cheeks tingle up in embarrassment for being the first to make it even more awkward.
It's Micah who turns to me first, and it takes me by surprise that he chuckles a bit. "You're not full?"
"I a—" I clear my throat again. "I am. It's... digestion. I think."
"Well, I got one of the cooks to pack some food for you, and dessert."
"I saw it. Thank you."
He hums in respond, and it's back to square one. Silence comes back in to fill the space between us. I'm tempted to reach over and switch on his radio, just for some sort of ambience, but I decide against it.
It remains like this right until we get to my gate. The house lights are on, so my father is still awake, I'm sure. I know he's waiting for me so he could tell me where to get off, for coming as late as I am now.
Cowardly, I mutter a small gratitude and grab my stuff, then get out the car. I push my hip against the door to shut it, then slowly walk towards the gate, thinking of what excuse to give my father when he sees me in a dress I didn't leave the house with.
But for some reason, I don't find it much of a bother, considering he's just going to shout and then get over it. It's the least of my concerns.
I come to a complete stop, then turn around and glance at Micah regretfully, taking a step towards the car and I sigh. Yes, he's watching me, hooded blue eyes curiously watching. I take another step, contemplating whether to go to the driver's side or passenger's, until I recall the fact that he quite literally has good hearing abilities.
So, with courage and confidence that he can hear me despite being in his car, a good ten or so steps away, I say; "Micah. I should apologise for today. I know I crossed the line with your father, I shouldn't have questioned him like that, in front of people at that. It was stupid, and... disrespectful, and I don't mean to cause issues between you and your parents. So, I'm sorry. I mean, I don't regret what I said because it was true, but there's a time and place and like your mum said, it wasn't the place. It really wasn't. So, I really am sorry. Just... don't be upset with me."
He takes me by complete surprised when he gets out the car, as then approaches me. I feel a lot smaller, possibly because I'm carrying a load on me both mentally and physically, but also his height plays a huge role.
The more I look at his face, the more my mind plays tricks with me into thinking he is beyond upset; the frown on his face with furrowed eyebrows and a slightly lowered tilt to his lips. Maybe also because his long strands in the front is hanging low and perhaps shielding what could be a glare.
Maybe he also had the same mentality at some point in the night, moments from ripping me to shreds like his father possibly wanted to, except he remembered I'm his mate and so he can't exactly cause me harm.
So when he's quite close, I find myself taking a step back and gripping onto my clothes, phone and the two Tupperwares stocked with food.
"O-or... or, be upset." My gaze drops down to his button up, the first of the few buttons still through their respective loop. "Just... don't avoid me. Or pretend I'm not here."
Gone is the girl that wanted to be nothing but thin air to him, and now I'm telling him to consider me as something valuable despite his anger.
"I am upset, Gertrude. I really am. With my father mostly, but you play a part in it."
Well, hearing it is a punch to my gut. I think my heart skipped a beat, and guilt washes over me.
"I'm sorr—"
"Don't be sorry. You did what you felt was right, right? You said it yourself, you don't regret what you said, and I can't blame you for feeling that way. At some point, you were going to snap. Or, say something in your defence. I can understand that. So you can't be sorry for it."
"I'm sorry for upsetting you." I clarify and spare him only a second's glance. "And he's your father, I shouldn't have spoken to him like that. I should have been more respectful. He'll have a reason not to deem me fit to be your mate. Never mind being Luna at some point, but being your mate is what he is against and I proved a point. So it's natural to feel like I embarrassed you in front of all of them, as your mate."
He catches me by surprise when he graciously and gently takes the belongings from my hands and walks over to his car, just to dump it on the hood. I'm right behind him, ready to catch my pants that slips down the hood and onto the road.
Instead, he cuts me short by lifting my chin up with his index finger. He still has a frown; it's not as deep as it was before but it's still there.
"You think I'm going to change my mind? Or let them change my mind about you? That's what's concerning you?"
"No. I..." I'm stuttering, trying to figure out what to say to oppose the fact that maybe, maybe he is right and I didn't realise that was really my concern until he said it. "No..."
I'm caught by surprise again when he, again, lifts my head up by my chin, bending down enough so we're eye level, and then he smiles a bit. He also releases a breathless chuckle. "Gertrude, look at me." And I do, no need for him to ask twice. Even if it's fairly dark and the street lights attempt to give us some sort of light, it's enough to see his dilated pupils and his seemingly glowing blue eyes. "You are."
"I'm not. I just feel bad for the way I handled that."
The corner of his lips raise up. "Okay. Fine. Well, in a perfect world where you were upset about it, I'd say that you shouldn't. They cannot change my mind, and neither can you. You're my mate, there is no one else. They'd have to kill you for things to be different, and if they did, I'd turn cities over and ruin empires within the wolf race to prove a point. The point being, you're not going anywhere, no one will hurt you, and you're my mate. That's not changing. They'd have to kill me too, then."
Oh, am I blushing?
"He also believes Natasha is your mate."
"I'd kill her to prove a point." He speaks with confidence, and I gasp at the statement. He wouldn't exactly go... shedding blood, to prove a point... would he? His eyes scan my face for a few seconds before they lower to my neck. Perhaps he can hear my heart thrusting almost violently in my chest. "I don't know how else to make you understand that you're my mate and that's not changing."
"The only way I can think of how, is if I speak to your dad. You know, so I apologise and stuff. So that when the time comes and you do imprint on me, it's not a thing in which himself or even your mum, is upset about. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Do you want to... feel good?"
Now, that's the question of the night. My mind races to the one million and one possibilities of what he could be meaning, but it's all in vain since he is quick to lower his face right in front of my own, lips almost greedily pressing onto mine. His left hand is the one that now holds onto my jaw, and with his right, his fingers graze against the pulse on my neck.
My useless hands can only hold onto his shirt momentarily, before I'm pushing against his torso to pull my face away from his when the lack of oxygen kicks in. I can't get far since his hand restricts me from moving much, but the moment his lips detach from mine, his lips are already kissing down my jaw and right to the joint of it.
I understand the question now, and quickly, I'm trying to pull away from him again. "M-Micah, I shouldn't. My father—"
"I won't drag it out." Micah mutters his response before he presses his mouth right there, exactly where he is familiar with.
I can't even remember the last time we did this, perhaps considering it's been a while, but that delicious feeling washes over me suddenly, and my eyes and squeezed shut with my hands clutches to fists. It's such a lovely sensation, and I question how I could have possibly went on this long without this.
I gasp when he finds the appealing temerity to graze his lips against the skin of my neck. Imagine me crumbling at that, knees almost buckling at the sensation. The fingers of his right hand linger against the strap of the dress on my left shoulder, before he moves it down.
His lips then place generous pecks down my neck and to my shoulder; he kisses the length of it and back, then places sweet pecks against my collarbone. It doesn't exactly add on to the sensation but it still feels nice.
New, too. He doesn't do that.
At least, that's until I'm hit with a striking pain against the collar bone. It blends in with the pleasure I was feeling only a second ago, but since it's such a foreign feeling, it's the only thing I can comprehend, and I'm immediately trying to push away from him, whining in pain, but I can't even seem to get far since his left hand had my neck in a grip. Not strong enough to cut oxygen out, but enough to restrict me from moving.
"Micah! Micah!" I keep pushing against him, whimpering, and my eyes start to well up when the pain has settled in deeply, and I can't seem to get away from it or him.
It feels like a fork stabbing me deeply; maybe not repetitively, but deeply. It's a burning kind of sting, one that feels as though it's itching. There's an irritation about it that I can't fathom, and my whole shoulder feels as though it's losing feeling, as if it's getting numb by the second.
He does release me, though. He detaches himself from my collarbone, and his tongue grazes against the punctured skin, and then right up to the joint of my jaw, kissing under it as though to sugarcoat the pain with the familiar pleasure. I don't know if it amplifies, how it amplifies, but I hear myself moan at it, eyes wide in surprise at the sound... sounds, I am capable of making. It doesn't stop the tears from slipping down my cheeks.
The boy now pulls back, pressing his forehead against mine and releases a long, deep groan. Then, he utters; "It will heal."
"You bit me." I whisper, throat sounding a bit clogged.
His eyes now open, contracted eyes instantly dilate at the sight of me. He takes in my wet cheeks and wide eyes.
"I imprinted on you."
My jaw drops down in shock. I don't know if it's a horror kind of shock, but shock nonetheless. My hand lifts to my collarbone, pressing against the ache. "You... what?" I remove my hand and glance at it, hand slightly trembling at the sight of my blood. "I'm bleeding—"
"You're human. I can't heal you and you can't heal as fast as me."
I push from him again, and this time he does let go of me. I wipe my hand against the dress and press the ache once again, feeling more blood coat my fingers; I'd be crazy if I said I didn't feel a small stream or two of blood slip down to my breast, and when I look down, the lining of this dress absorbs the moisture almost immediately.
"Micah—"
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't ask me. You didn't ask me to do it." I lift my teary eyes at him, subconsciously lifting the bottom hem of the dress and pressing my hand against my collarbone to stop the bleeding, despite the ache feeling a bit too painful and tender to the touch. I find myself taking a fearful step back. "You were suppo—" I choke on my saliva. "You didn't ask me, you were supposed to ask me, Micah."
"I'm sorry."
I don't know if he is, if he's just saying it. He stands there staring at me, and this might actually be the first time his eyes are contracted as he looks at me. The corner of his mouth has a red stain, and his lips look wet, so I wonder if his lips were wet with blood when he kissed my neck.
The back of his hand wipes his mouth, so the red blood partially smears some more around the corner of his mouth. It looks odd, animalistic, almost, if I include the wild hair. "I don't know what came over me. I didn't think I'd actually do it—"
"Gertrude." My stomach drops when I hear my name being called, and when I turn around, I find my father standing right by the gate.
He looks at me, look at the dress I'm wearing. The hand against my shoulder with my dress lifted. He then looks at Micah besides me. I don't know what he has formulating in his head, but he looks back at me with an angry look, and then he points at the house.
"Get inside. Now."