*Aletha*
She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep in her bed, but the next time she opened her eyes, she was wearing clothes and the heavy duvet covered her body. Disoriented, she blinked heavily before she abruptly sat up and snapped her eyes to the large windows by the wall. It was dark and the moon was shining brightly.
Her heart started to hammer. This wasn't a nightmare. She was really held here against her will. She really was taken to the Night Pack and her mate was none other than Alpha Rushika.
Who was a vampire.
She looked down at her wrists and it was completely healed. She didn't know if her body healed it or he did it the last time he came. Whatever it was, he left no evidence of her suicide attempt.
Aletha closed her eyes for a moment, just letting the night soothe her. When she had nightmares of her past, she would take deep breaths and just hear what the night had to offer. Usually it calmed her down, but now it didn't. She wasn't in the Shadow Pack anymore. She was not home anymore. That warm, reassuring feeling that she would always be safe was not here anymore. She felt like her life was in danger every moment of the day. She felt eyes watching her, and she felt his presence around this room. Even in her sleep, she could smell the ocean. It was unbearable.
Her body began to shake and it was getting harder to breathe again. Before she knew what was happening, she heard the door open and a female enter. The lamps around her room flickered on, and she could see the full view of the female.
Aletha had seen her before. She'd been in the room with the doctor before Rush beckoned them to leave.
She was beautiful. Looking at her made her stop breathing, because she looked otherworldly and almost dangerous. With black hair the same shade as Rush's, and eyes to match with the night, she had a lethal beauty. A cruel aura. A terrifying glint to her eyes that reminded her of Rush. "I believe we haven't been introduced," she said in a cold voice. She came toward her, looking far too graceful than even the aristocratic females of the Shadow Pack. She carried power in the way she walked. "I am Kyla, the Beta of the Night Pack. I am also the Alpha's sister."
"Sister?" she breathed, taken aback. She felt something prick at her skin when Kyla took her hand.
"Yes, I am his sister," Kyla said, her face twisting in a cruel snarl. She didn't like Aletha. "And you must be his mate."
Aletha knew she had to be cautious when she spoke to her. A slip in the way she spoke and she suspected her safety would be compromised. "I am," Aletha agreed. "But I don't like being held here against my will."
"Against your will? Why, would you like to go back to Lucien?" Kyla asked, yanking her up. "You want to be fucked by Lucien? You want him to put his mouth on your neck and mark you over and over again? You want to be his pathetic little Luna forever, don't you? Well, darling, I have news for you. There's no going back." She let go of Aletha, sensing her fear, and she smiled icily. "Now, dear sister, the Alpha requests your presence for dinner. He asked me to dress you up and kindly bring you to him, because you'd obviously freak if he came and did it himself. Are we going to have a problem?"
Aletha was terrified of this female. Terrified and indignant. "You don't know anything about me," she hissed.
"I know enough to know you're an ignorant bitch," Kyla finished. "My brother has never shown so much kindness and patience toward anyone in this pack. You think you have it all rough? You're far from wrong. So suck it up and lets go."
Aletha didn't say anything after that. She let Kyla wash her in the bathroom before she dressed her up in a light blue gown. She teased her hair and gave her slippers to wear.
"You might be wondering why he wants to see you," Kyla said finally as she led her down the hall of the castle. "He wants to talk to you. You haven't really tried to hear what he wishes to tell you. I hope you open your ears. I promised Rush I won't do anything stupid like punching you or pushing you down the stairs, because I'm not a brat like you. I don't have to hurt you that way. I do, however, have other ways I can ruin your life beyond what's already been ruined."
The look of scorn burned through her. It was a look that stripped through her skin, baring her humiliation to her. Kyla knew everything that happened to her, and she had no sympathy. Just judgement. "Why do you hate me?" Aletha whispered.
"Because you took what's mine," she replied, yanking her down the steps. "You could have done anything else, and I would have been fine with it. But you committed the most unforgivable crime in the Darklands. Do you know what that is?" Her mouth was a harsh snarl. "You stole someone else's mate when you already had one."
Stole someone's mate? Did that mean...? "Is Lucien your..." Aletha began, but knew already when Kyla's body tensed up. Oh no. Dread laced around her. She never considered the possibility of Lucien having a living, breathing mate. She'd always just assumed she was dead, or that he never found her. Lucien always just told her never to worry about his mate. "I...I didn't know."
"I didn't know," Kyla mocked. "Says the bitch who was pampered in the castle and hid from reality. Just fuck you. Not only are you inconsiderate but you are also ignorant. You're revolting inside and out."
Her words hit her stomach hard and it pierced her guts. It made her face burn and tears prick her eyes. She tried to say something, but the harshness of Kyla's words kept ringing through her mind and clouding her thoughts. Her breathing cut short and she was at the edge of breaking down into tears.
"We're here. He suspects you'll feel uncomfortable in the dining hall so he wants to meet you in the study," Kyla announced, throwing open the large wooden doors of his study.
The smell of the ocean invaded her nose, wrapping around her skin and forcing her to acknowledge the male standing in front of the fire, his back to her.
"Have fun," said Kyla before pushing her inside and slamming her door shut. The sound vibrated through her bones, making her cringe. She hated loud sounds. They startled her.
Now it was silent. Silent and cold. She could feel the hairs of her skin rising. An involuntary shiver came over her as she wrapped her arms around herself, watching as his dark form slowly began to turn.
In the dim light of only the fireplace, his shadow was long and black. She only saw the outline of his silhouette at first, revealing a male in his prime. She couldn't see much of the details of him, but she did see how terrifying his figure was. His white shirt was unbuttoned, and she saw only hard muscles. She looked at his face next, and from the flickering light of the hellish red fire, she saw dark hair and those grey eyes that reminded her of a raging storm. His nose was elegant and straight, and his mouth was a light shade of rose that carved like a bow.
"I hope my sister didn't terrify you," his mysterious voice came as made his way toward her, his footsteps very silent. "You see, she's very protective of me." There was blood on his hands as he buttoned up his shirt, leaving stains of red behind. She wondered whose blood it was, which victim met his wrath. He didn't seem to care though. He had a cold indifference to him that chilled her.
On the table beside him, there was food still steaming as if they were freshly made. The warm smell wafted through the air and made her stomach clench with hunger. She hadn't eaten in a while.
He stopped in front of her, smelling like blood and ocean, and held his gaze on her face. She noticed that about him—he was very observant. He calculated his situation before making a move.
Her body grew tense and she watched him too, wondering what was going through his head. What did he want to tell her?
Finally when his scrutiny was done, he took a step back and nodded to the direction of the small table. "Come, sit." He placed a hand carefully behind her shoulder, on top of her hair to prevent the blood in his hand from smudging her dress.
Her curiosity was burning her now. Why was there so much blood on his hand? As she sat and watched how he withdrew his hand, she finally realized it was his own blood. Her breath hitched, and he noticed.
"Don't worry about it. It was Kyla. I needed to feed her before she went up to you." Then with a much softer voice: "I didn't want her to hurt you."
Aletha swallowed. She wasn't used to any of this, and hearing him speaking as if a blood offering from him was a matter-of-fact occurrence set her on edge. It was close to cannibalism, and that terrified her. Did they also eat the flesh of their prey?
Rush began to chuckle. "You're scared," he observed, sitting beside her. His body arched toward her. "Do I terrify you, love?"
"You disturb me," she answered. "And perplex me."
"And anger you. Perhaps even sadden you," he added, his mouth perking up. His eyes were on her throat now and his smile grew wider. "And as much as you hate to admit it, I do frighten you."
"What do you want?" she asked shakily.
"What do I want?" he said, releasing a breath. "I want many things." It occurred to her that he hadn't been remotely breathing from the time she came in until now. He had been utterly silent, except when he spoke. She didn't hear him breathe. No, she only heard her own labored breathing because the presence of him agitated her. It made her nervous, panicked. He was the unknown, and the unknown was unpredictable.
"What do you want from me?"
His hand moved toward her. Her heart stopped for a second as she zeroed in on his fingers inching closer. Only, he didn't touch her. He touched the tray of food and pushed it toward her. "You should eat," he said.
She made no effort to touch the food. "You didn't answer my question."
"Your question has many answers. I can't settle on one." He paused, looking away for a moment. The flames of the fire flickered against his eyes, and it looked like hell danced in his vision. "I want many things from you, Aletha. I want your loyalty and I want your acceptance." Then he faced her again. "And maybe...I'll want your heart too."
"I will never love you," she said harshly. "Never."
It should have affected him. It should have anguished the bond. Yet all she felt was coolness when he looked at her. "You don't know the unknown," he told her. She didn't find a hint of emotion in his tone. It was bare to the night, and she lost all sense of any meaning his inflectionless voice contained. Probably because a voice with no inflection didn't really have a meaning—it was cold, calculating...unpredictable.
Unsettling.
"I do know that you don't deserve my love," she hissed, pushing the tray away from her. "You don't deserve any love!"
He didn't move. But his jaw started to tick. He was growing livid. She studied his eyes again. Those cold grey eyes...they were dark, strained...tormented. "Maybe I don't deserve love," he told her very calmly. "After all, I am spawned by evil. My mother is your enemy and my father almost destroyed this world. Maybe...maybe I deserve hell because of the way I was born—the twin who would have been devoured by his brother. I would have done my mother a favor if I died that day in the ocean, and yet I chose to live in this world that has no desire to want me alive."
He had a twin? She opened her mouth to inquire more, but he leaned closer and pushed her tray back until it hit her chest.
"I brought you to my study to apologize to you in a more...civilized manner," he told her. "I didn't bring you here to start another fight. I don't enjoy fighting with you, love. I want to see you happy. As your mate, I want to ensure your safety. I'm learning that leaving you alone will kill you."
She snapped her head to him, glaring fiercely. "Then what do you plan to do? Don't tell me you're willing to invade my privacy?"
He gave her a stern look. "I will respect your privacy as I respect the privacy of everyone in my pack, but I won't tolerate you taking your life like it's meaningless."
"My life is meaningless without him!" she snarled. "It is meaningless with you!"
His fist slammed hard on the table, startling her as it jolted through her system. He looked murderous now. "Don't you dare say that again," he growled. "You're talking like you aren't even your own person. You are meaningful without him, Aletha. You don't need him to give your life meaning. You don't even need me to be meaningful. You're not a fucking item. You're a person."
"Yet you treat me as your possession," she retorted. "You call me yours, and you lock me up against my will—"
"I call you mine, as in my female, my mate," he argued. "Not my property."
She got up from the chair. "I'm not hungry."
"You can't starve yourself," he said, his voice harder now.
"Watch me."
A glare cut through his face as he slowly rose up from his own seat. "Aletha, I'm trying to understand you. You're making this very difficult for me."
"Then why don't you let me go? You know we won't work. We will never work."
His glare darkened. "We won't work?" He said it as if he was mocking her. Like what she said was ridiculous, impossible. It made her doubt every single word she said. "Are you sure about that, Aletha?"
"I'm sure about many things, and I'm sure I don't want to stay with you."
"You're not. You're staying in a chamber far from my own. I don't bother you because you don't really prefer my company. You'd rather be by yourself. I tried giving you space—space to think and accept this for what it is: you're my mate and you can never go back to Lucien. In this world, everything is fucked-up. Nothing is ever as you want it. If you don't get over this bullshit with Lucien--"
"Bullshit?" she snarled. "I will give up my life for Lucien!"
He smiled harshly. "As you proved last night." His large frame craned toward her. "Is that why you cut yourself, because you couldn't be with your love?"
She froze when he said that. She wasn't expecting him to ask about her that night when she tried to take her life. Maybe he would comment on it, but she didn't want to talk about it. But the way he was looking at her now with stark anger, she knew he wouldn't let this go.