I press my lips into a firm line. Nia and Iris might still be running somewhere out there. I owe them too much. "How did they do this to you?"
At my silence, he curls his hands into fists. "How?"
His tone, his force and his aura of power compel me to speak. It must be a wolf thing, a privilege with his new status. "Experiments. I wanted them."
"There's nothing that could, nothing that should....this is wrong."
"I wanted it. I wanted to be severed from you."
A look of sadness crosses his features only to disappear just as quick as it came. "You're going feral then."
"No."
"Is it taking to you? The voice?"
"What voice?"
Don't play stupid.
"It's your wolf. It's not supposed to talk, because it's supposed to be fused to you perfectly. But when we go feral...they can take over. Which is what it must've done right now. Can you hear it."
Yes.
"No."
He studies me before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I don't know why I expected this to be easy with you. Let me mark you before you go feral."
"I won't go feral."
"I almost went feral. What makes you think you can prevent yourself from going too?"
He's right. That's not even the wolf talking, no it's been whining for the last five minutes, that's all me. I have no training, can't control my shifts, or even the way my teeth drop, I can't control my claws and I sure as hell don't want to die.
"Now?" My voice is brittle. "What if you just gave me a bottle of Wolfsbane and sent me on my way. I swear I'll pray for a new mate for you."
"Here we are four years later, grown, and you're still no closer to accepting the truth. No, I cannot give you Wolfsbane, it's illegal and immoral. Stop asking me to."
I bit the inside of my cheek. "Well, you never know." I stare at our surroundings. The thrones on the dais. "Do it here."
"We can't-"
"I don't want to end up in your bed again." He colors, only slightly. "Do it standing so I can walk away."
"Will you be able to walk away? Were you able to walk away last time?" If I were paler, shame would've colored my face to the brightest red.
"It doesn't change anything. Not a single thing what I do."
He offers out his hand. "If it makes you feel better, sure. It won't change anything."
I stare at it. Is it really so different from the first time?
You'll stay this time.
I frown at that.
You love him.
I frown harder. Whatever lingers underneath the surface--it fights to get control again. Shoving me to the back, I watch it interact with the world with my body. I feel myself lurch forward, taking his hand. This time, it talks.
"Please." I cringe at the sound of its voice. It's mine, but only if English was a foreign language and if I was just learning to control my tongue. It clears its throat--it clears my throat--the thought of it makes my head spin. "Do it fast, before she comes back."
He recoils as if disgusted by the raspy voice. "What did you do to her?"
"She is contained. She won't get in our way."
"Let her out."
It whines. "I need this, we need this. I am what she will never say."
He lets the prospect sit for only a little while. "Let her out. Now." In a low voice, he commands it again and I am seeing in my own eyes, moving my own hands. I blink a few times if only to confirm it's real. He narrows his eyes, glaring at me. "What did I say?"
"I didn't know that it would do that." There's no mock or bite in my voice--I'm terrified.
"It's just like the first time. You had all your own thoughts the first time, you made all your own decisions. What is there to fear?"
God, he sounds so grown. I touch the patch of skin hidden behind my hair. It's smooth again, almost baring no trace of what happened to it. It a way, it's sentimental to me. Removing the mark was removing the stain on my life--but like the traces of my past, it never completely went away.
"Nothing." I close my eyes, heat flooding my neck. "Well, get it done quick I guess."
There's no smile on his face. This was not something to be happy about--at least that's how he must see it. Recreating a bond that should've been unbreakable--if anything it's worrying.
I feel like I'm floating as we travel through halls and halls of freshly cut stone, lined by servants going about their tasks. They fall against the walls, pressing their bodies to the walls, clearing the already wide space for us. Their faces are fearful, their palms pressed flat so they can scoot away as much as possible.
"What are they scared of?" I ask as we walk down an unfamiliar hall.
This is taking too long.
"Losing their jobs maybe. There are a few that I've let go." There's more to the story. I can see it in his face. There's always more to the story.
"Here we are." He pushes open a door and leads us into a bedroom. The writing desk is covered in scrawls and littered with crumpled up papers and black ink blots. Clothes lie in piles on the floor, unattended to and the blinds are drawn shut, blocking out any light. "Sorry for the mess."
"Conquerors don't have time to clean I guess." I walk around the piles and fling open the closet. Do I want to ruin this dress? Do I trust my self to stay in it?
He's seen you naked before. What's the difference?
"That was an accident," I murmur, thinking back to the cave.
"What was that?" He sits on the edge of the bed, undoing his tie and the buttons of his shirt.
"Nothing." God, I can't believe I'm here again. A part of me knew I could never run forever, but the scale of this all. America possibly fallen--I still needed more news on that, my friends on the run and my parents M.I.A.
He's seen it any-
Shut up. I quiet the voice and pull out a large shirt. I can't wait until I get rid of you.
I am you.
Talking to myself, I zip myself out of my dress and pull the shirt over my head. I turn and meet yellow eyes. "It's rude to stare."
"You didn't do much to hide."
I was busy quieting the voice in my head. "Get this over with quickly," I snap. "Before I go crazy."
"Your wish is my command."
A grin plays n the corner of his lips as he pulls me down, but all I can think of is how hundreds of millions were conquered in less than half a decade. How did he even do it all? The guilt eats at me. It's not my job to fix anyone or make decisions for anyone, but would he have done it if I stayed. Would I have gone on living if I stayed?
Teeth graze my skin. "Stay in the moment."
"I'm trying to stay out of it."
"Focus on me." His eyes shine a golden yellow, watching me the whole time.
"That's the last thing I want to do."
"You love contradicting everything I say. If I said I love animals, you ate them, if I said sugar is bad for you, you'd say it's a superfood."
"No, I'd tell you to go to hell." The laugh that rumbles out of his stomachs warms my body and makes my head flutter.
"Unchanged after for years. I wonder how it can even be possible."
"Yeah, I wonder too."
His teeth cut through the skin shallowly. This time, he's drawing it out, testing the grounds. A hiss comes from my narrowly open lips. He smiles against my skin."Don't do that." I grind out, digging my nails into the palms of my hands.
"Do what?"
"Draw it out like that. Get it over with."
"Your wish is my command."He pierces the skin completely, and I scream.
Soon the pain is replaced by a similar wave euphoria, and I ride it as I did before. Scent and hormones, they control me and my emotions. Hands, legs, lips. I don't quite remember how they all moved, yet I know, just as before, when I fell asleep, I was bone tired.
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Jonah's POV
I wake up, arms curled around her sleeping body. Her face is peaceful and calm-- calmer than I've ever seen it. The shirt she wears as a dress rode up in the night and all I see is skin, skin, skin.
I approve.
I run my hands through my hair. Soon, life will call me, and I must assume the responsibilities of the title I created for myself. The whole system was a mess. There needs to be a way to unite the packs, to expand their territory into regions without causing disputes that would blow into wars. But so far, I'm at a loss.
Her eyelids flutter, and I think she might wake up before they close once more. A sleepy smile paints her face.
Or perhaps when life calls, I could leave in on hold and instead spend the day in bed, arms curled around the woman I love and hope, that she'll love me back.
I hang onto her words from her truth serum-induced rant. "I can't hate you." As much as I want to hold onto her sweet nothing that she whispered, I know they are lies. They were tricks, deceptions, all to gain my trust and escape into the night.
Tricky mate.
I won't let that happen again. I won't be fooled twice. But those words fueled by truth serum--I can trust them with my life. I have to.
I lie back, stilling as she shifts and groans, only to fall back to sleep. I wonder if one day we could be happy. A couple of children, a legacy behind us that isn't one of fire and anger and lies.
There's a knock on the door. "Your Majesty. Your cabinet requires you." Tell them you're taking a day off. Tell them that you want to bury yourself in the arms of your mate. "There's a crisis in the securing of the Eastern Seaboard."
I sigh and slip out of bed, onto the cold floor. She sleeps still, the happy look on her face still. I drink it in. I might not see it again for a long while.
"Give me five minutes."