Who is currently your favorite character?
Should Chloe fight for her freedom or give Roarke a chance?
How do you predict this story will end?
~ Lissa
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN - CRAVINGS
The next day, I experienced symptoms.
I stumbled to the kitchen with my stomach growling. Roarke followed me, carefully watching me, almost as if he was afraid that I would break any moment. In the kitchen, Maurice was pulling a pan of chocolate muffins out of the oven, humming. The smell was incredible, seeming stronger, to the point that it overwhelmed my senses.
Maurice looked at me. "Hello, hun."
I didn't respond - my thoughts were focused on food. I walked over to the cabinet, reaching inside and grabbing the first thing that I saw. A jar of peanut butter. Maurice watched with a confused expression as I snatched a spoon and began to eat spoonfuls of peanut butter.
She hesitated. "I have leftover pasta. Do you want some of that?"
"Yeah," I said, frantically licking my spoon. "And, some of that garlic bread." She shifted her attention to Roarke, searching for approval. I witnessed Roarke give a simple nod from the corner of my eye. As Maurice heated up the meal, I continued to clean out the peanut butter jar, feeling Roarke's gaze on me.
"I'm so hungry," I groaned, frustrated with how slow the peanut butter was going down.
"You're having cravings," Roarke told me, his eyebrows pinched together. "This is good. This means your body is adjusting to the changes."
I was sure if I was relieved or disappointed. "Oh."
Maurice placed a bowl of leftover pasta in front of me, accompanied by two slices of garlic bread. I immediately ditched the peanut butter, inhaling the pasta as if my life depended on it. I was hardly chewing; I was surprised that I hadn't choked. I wasn't even tasting the delicious food because of how fast it was going down.
Maurice raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen her eat so much."
"Yeah," Roarke said, watching me. "But, it's not what she's craving. None of this will satisfy her for long."
His words caught my attention. "What?"
Roarke rolled his shoulders, then walked over to the refrigerator. Still inhaling the pasta, I watched him with skeptical eyes. He pulled out a tray of his leftover steak, along with sausage from breakfast that morning. My nostrils flared when my eyes centered on the meat. My stomach growled louder, despite currently being filled.
The corners of his lips quirked upwards at my reaction. "You're craving meat."
He stepped closer to me, lifting the meat towards my nose. A wave of hunger washed through me. My tastebuds tingled at the thought of meat on my tongue.
With the little restraint I had, I took a step backwards. "Get that away from me." He remained standing there, the meat extended to me. "I said, get that away from me!"
"You're becoming a werewolf now," Roarke said, calmly. "You're developing characteristics of a wolf, such as the need for meat. The need to hunt. A wolf with a hungry, particular appetite is coming forward in you. Your eating habits will have to change."
I narrowed my eyes. "Just like you wanted."
He tilted his head.
"You never approved of my vegetarian lifestyle," I added, angrily. "You tried pushing meat onto me - and now, I'm craving it."
"I stopped forcing you to eat meat, remember?" Roarke retorted, frowning. "I was generous. I allowed you to choose what you wanted to eat as long as you ate something. I compromised for your health." He gestured towards the meat in his hand, impatiently. "This will satisfy you. This is what your body needs."
My upper lip curled up in frustration. "No, I'm not eating that."
"Then, you'll find yourself hungry every hour," he said, shaking his head. "The wolf coming forward will continue to fight you for it."
Grabbing my bowl of pasta, I stepped away from him. "I'll continue to fight back."
Roarke growled in irritation as I headed back to the bedroom, devouring the pasta. I heard him ranting to Maurice in the kitchen, but I didn't bother staying posted near the door to listen. I didn't care that much.
From there, I quickly realized that Roarke was telling the truth. I was hungry every hour. I repetitively made trips to the kitchen. I devoured whatever I could find, mostly junk food or fresh pastries from Maurice. Roarke just watched me in silence with a permanent impatient frown on his face.
He wanted me to cave. He wanted me to eat what my body was craving. I was determined to fight this wolf's appetite for as long as I could.
A few days later, I was back in the kitchen, searching the cabinets for food. There was absolutely nothing to eat. Maurice rushed out the kitchen, not meeting my gaze. I rummaged through the refrigerator, seeing only a few pieces of rotten fruit and milk - and meat.
Roarke leaned back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. There was a smug expression on his face.
I slowly faced him. "You planned this."
"I told Maurice to hold off on the food," Roarke told me, casually. I gave him an angry look, which caused him to straighten. "There is plenty of meat in there - "
"I can't believe you," I interrupted, harshly. "Why can't you just accept my decisions?"
"Because, by denying your body what it wants, you're fighting your transition," he replied, his eyes narrowing. "You need to listen to your body. If you don't, this transition will kill you - which I know you want, but I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen."
I scowled. "You can try all you want to make sure that I survive. I don't think your efforts will win against my fight."
"Listen here, little one," Roarke growled, towering over me. "There will be a point where your wolf will be strong and wise enough to understand hierarchy." My eyebrows knitted together in confusion at his words. "Your wolf will take orders from her Alpha, which is me. So, if I command you to live, she will try her hardest to make sure you two live."
Concern washed over me. "How's that possible?"
"Your wolf is there, inside you, before your first transition," he explained, flatly. "She can be strong. She can be wise. She is growing within you. Her survival, your survival, depends on your human body, on you. If you can take her coming forward, if you can withstand the transition."
There was a knot in my stomach. "You make it sound like there is somebody else inside of me."
"In a way, there is," Roarke said, tilting his head. "And, once she is strong enough, she will take orders from me."
"Are you sure?" I asked, bravely sticking my chin out. "Or, maybe she will take orders from the Alpha who bit me?"
A snarl erupted from his mouth. "That doesn't matter. An Alpha is an Alpha. She will respect me and follow my commands, even though it wasn't me who bit you." He leaned closer to me, his breath fanning my face. "She will accept me as her male. It's time for you to do the same."
"How do you know my wolf will accept you?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. "Maybe she will be repulsed by your bossiness and your lack of care for what others want."
There was a flare of anger in his dark eyes, but he remained calm when he answered, "Because, I'm an Alpha. I'm the perfect male for any woman. The higher the rank, the better the male. I'm the highest there is. Your wolf will consider herself lucky for having me."
I cringed. "She could not - "
"Enough," Roarke interrupted, impatiently. "You're not winning this argument." I gritted my teeth together, keeping quiet. "Eat. Listen to your body."
I hesitated. "No."
Then, with a starving stomach, I turned around and returned to the bedroom.
An hour later, I was curled up on the bed, hugging my stomach. I was starving - and I'm not being dramatic when I say, I felt like my stomach was dying. There were pulses of pain, encouraging me to eat. I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. I had been through worse. I had restraint.
I was annoyed when Roarke entered the bedroom.
I waited for him to speak, or to shove the food down my throat himself. He curled up next to me on the bed, wrapping an arm around my waist. I nervously waited for whatever was to come, feeling him inhale my scent.
"I'm sorry."
My whole body went tense. I slowly flipped over, facing him on the bed. When my eyes met his dark ones, I noticed the gentleness in them. "Did you just apologize?"
"I forget that I need to be gentle with you," he murmured, running a hand through my hair. "This is hard for you. I need to be patient."
I raised an eyebrow. "Did Maurice give you a speech?"
"She did," Roarke admitted, quietly. "And, I needed to hear it. What I said - it came off the wrong way. It was anything but gentle." He pinched his lips together, pondering for a second. "It's just - the topic of you dying makes me angry. It puts me on edge."
"I can tell," I replied, staying still in his arms. "You want me to live."
"Yeah, I do," he said, seriously. "Watching you fade away in front of me, with no fight to live, it makes me feel powerless."
I offered a soft grin. "This is my life. I don't want to live it like this."
"What can I do?" he asked, searching my eyes for the answer. "What can I do to make you want to live? To fight for survival? What can I do?"
I stared at him for a long moment. "Why don't you let me die?"
"What kind of question is that?" he replied, taken off-guard. I cocked an eyebrow, patiently waiting for a response. He took a deep breath, tracing my jaw with his thumb. "I care about you. You're my female. I want you at my side."
"But, if you let me die, I will be at peace," I told him, gently. "And, Julius Monclaw will be in deep grief for months. Your enemy will be weak - "
"You're not dying," he interrupted, fiercely. "I will never use you to get to Julius Monclaw."
I exhaled loudly. "Whatever."
I rolled back over, closing my eyes to take a nap. Thankfully, Roarke didn't try to argue with me again. He simply closed his eyes and rested next to me, keeping me close.
I wasn't sure how long I was asleep, but it was my growling stomach that woke me up. I peeked over my shoulder, seeing Roarke asleep next to me. His eyelashes fluttered as I carefully moved from his hold, scooting off the bed. Every thought, every sense, in me was telling me to eat. This insatiable hunger had washed over me.
Silently, I staggered down the hallway into the kitchen. When I reached the refrigerator, I paused. What was I doing? Was this all the restraint I had? Was I really caving?
I had been a vegetarian for years. Even on the streets, desperate for food, I kept meat limited. I had my reasons for being vegetarian, most of which went back to how I was raised.
There was a pulse in my stomach.
I hunched over, inhaling deeply.
A few moments passed until I opened the refrigerator and snatched the tray of steak inside. My movements were frantic, a little shaky. There was no time to heat the meat in the microwave or even cut it into pieces. I plopped down on the kitchen floor and began eating the steak as easily as bread.
The pulses in my stomach stopped. The starvation stopped. I devoured all of the steaks with moans and happy licks to my fingers. My body had stopped fighting me because I had stopped fighting what it wanted.
Grunting, I reached back into the refrigerator and grabbed the leftover sausages. I plopped a few into my mouth, frantically chewing. I hated that it tasted so good. I hated that it was curing my hunger. Satisfying me.
Once all of the sausages were gone, I quickly realized that it wasn't enough. I didn't know how it was possible for me to eat so much, but it was. My fingers connected with some raw meat in the refrigerator drawer. I didn't even hesitate - I began eating the raw chicken, rocking back and forth on the floor.
This was when Roarke turned the corner.
He seemed relieved that I had caved into my cravings, but as soon as he realized that I was eating raw meat, he moved forward. Roarke grabbed the package of chicken from my hands, saying, "No, you don't want to eat it raw."
I looked down at my hands. "Raw meat."
He noticed my body start to tremble as the tears threatened to pour. Roarke pushed aside the chicken, then took a seat on the floor with me. I tried to hold back my tears, but it came to the point where it was hard to breathe.
Roarke pulled me into his lap and held me as I cried.
-
"The transition will be a lot of stress on your body," Dr. Burnett said, listening to my heartbeat with her stethoscope. "But, it's the mental stress that concerns me most with you." She pulled away, rummaging through her medical tools. "How are you feeling today?"
"Fine," I answered, dryly. "Just hungry."
"Yes, your appetite has grown," she said, nodding once. "It's normal. It wouldn't hurt to put a little bit more weight on you, either." My eyebrows knitted together as she stuck a thermometer into my mouth. "You will develop a fever as the transition nears. Don't be alarmed."
Once the thermometer beeped, she picked it from my mouth and peered at the small screen. "No fever. Not yet."
I hesitated. "I heard the conversation you had with Roarke after I was bitten." She paused, peering through her spectacles at me. "Thank you."
She was surprised. "For what?"
"You care about my well-being," I said, softly. "It's been a long time since someone has cared about my well-being."
Dr. Burnett took a seat on the bed beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Alpha Roarke cares about you. He truly does. He's just a difficult man. He has a lot to learn."
I blew out a breath.
Dr. Burnett returned to her feet, then grabbed my hands. She studied the scars on my wrists from my first suicide attempt. "They healed nicely."
She peered at the healed wounds on my forearm and shoulder from the attack at the celebration. From the claws of that wolf. "These are coming along well, too."
I tensed when she tilted my head, squinting at the bite mark on my neck. "It looks a little irritated, Chloe. Have you been scratching at it?"
I frowned. "No."
"Okay," Dr. Burnett said, gently touching the wound. "Well, I'll give you some medication to help with that. I don't want an infection happening."
"Why would it be irritated?"
"Um, it could be a sign of your body rejecting the bite," she answered, lightly. "Not being able to withstand the venom." I noticed her hesitation. "Or, it could have to do with the bond."
My heart skipped a beat. "What about the bond?"
"When a werewolf turns a human, a bond is always probable," Dr. Burnett explained, gesturing with her hands. "That's why werewolves are careful with turning humans. In most cases, a werewolf turns a human who they've chosen as their mate. This way, if a bond develops, there aren't any complications."
"So, the werewolf is there for the human, for their mate, through the changes, the healing process, the first transition," she continued, trying not to sound confusing. "It strengthens their bond, so the human has a better chance of surviving. That's what typically happens."
I slowly nodded my head.
"I believe your wolf is recognizing that it isn't Julius Monclaw helping you through this," Dr. Burnett said, carefully. "Your bond isn't strengthening. Your chances of survival only decrease." She shook her head, closing her medical box. "As much as Alpha Roarke helps you, it isn't his help you need."
"I guess it doesn't really matter," I murmured, looking down. "I don't expect to survive this transition."
Dr. Burnett raised an eyebrow. "You really don't understand." I gave her a look as she placed her hands on her hips. "You need to survive this transition. You need to live."
"Why?" I asked, flatly. "To please your Alpha?"
"You are in a very powerful position, Chloe," Dr. Burnett said, seriously. "Alpha Roarke Farkas, one of the most lethal Alphas in the world, has chosen you as his female. Alpha Julius Monclaw, one of the most stealthiest Alphas in the world, has created a bond with you."
"Yeah, I know."
"Once you transition, you will be considered the Alpha Female of the Farkas Pack," she informed me, sounding impressed. "You will have some power within this pack, Chloe. Not only that, but because of your bond with Julius Monclaw, you have some power on his end, too."
I sputtered for words. "I-I don't - what do you mean?"
"You will lead this pack next to Alpha Roarke," Dr. Burnett said, watching me. "You will be in a powerful position, one that can only be taken from you if Alpha Roarke loses a challenge." I was stumped. I didn't have any words. "As for Julius Monclaw, you have a bond with him. You have power over him."
"With Alpha Roarke as your male and Julius Monclaw with his bond to you, consider yourself untouchable. Neither of them want harm to come to you. You might just be the safest woman alive."
"Safe," I repeated, somewhat amused. "So, all it took was to be kidnapped, attacked, and turned into a werewolf to finally be safe again?"
She grinned. "Sure."
"One problem, though," I said, holding up a finger. "Roarke and Julius hate each other. Roarke is trying to find Julius as we speak to kill him, which will send me into deep grief."
"That's true," she said, nodding. "But, I'm hoping if I inform Alpha Roarke of this bite being irritated, he might reconsider his decision to kill him."
"I doubt it."
Dr. Burnett exhaled loudly. "Yes, perhaps you're right." She picked up her medical box and shifted her spectacles on her face. "I will see you soon, Chloe. Take care."
I thanked her as she exited the bedroom.