Moon Bound (Glorious Darkness Book 1) (23 page)

(45) I Do, I Don't

|Regan's POV|

I wrap my arms tightly around her, sinking into her warmth and softness, wishing to never leave this bed, my place next to her as we stay intertwined together. The way we should be.

We fell asleep as soon as we got back to the house. Besides cleaning up the post-challenge mess both of us have become, we've been too tired for anything else but simply rest so that's what we did.

I didn't mind then. I've been as exhausted as she seemed, but now - drowning in her scent, feeling her feminine curves as she snugs closer to me in her sleep, being reminded of her body with every stir of her frame... It's more than I can take. Both I and my beast need more, so much more she probably isn't ready to give it to us. Nevertheless, despite every reason I can feel myself growing hard, itching to trace my fingers along her silky skin, trailing over those curves, tasting the desire on her mouth, everywhere she'd let me taste her.

Torture in its purest kind, poison that leaves me intoxicated and needing more.

I need to leave before she wakes up and finds me glued to her, my hands resting on her belly, squeezing the fabric of her t-shirt, pulling it higher inch by inch to expose more of her to my hungry for the feel of her skin hands. Roaming in circles over that exposed flesh, wishing to free it from its confinement until she's completely bare to me.

"Mmm-hmm," she moans, the need inflaming my already burning body until there's a burning inferno inside and not just a flame for her.

Being this close all I need to smell the desire on her skin is breathe and every breath is filled with more and more of the intoxicating scent.

The fabric of my pants is tightening around me, her body rubbing against mine, creating a similar to what I need friction, yet not quite the one I truly need.

"Scarlet," I groan, frustrated with the instinctual response of her body, wishing she was aware and this contact was more real than this. However, it's not. She's as much asleep as I am awake, as unaware of me as I am searing hot for her.

"We need to stop," I whisper, grazing her ear with my teeth, going lower, to the place where my mark is sitting on her skin to taste it again. I'm losing my mind the longer I stay with her, the longer I let my need guide me and I am too weak to stop myself even if I know how wrong this is.

There are too many things I need to take care of before I can finally lose myself in her but none of them matters now. Not now when I am burning with need so raw and primal that I am disconnected from all reason.

I feel the moment consciousness starts returning to her. Her body stills, the friction interrupted by her arousal emerging from the depths of her dream-filled mind, the dreams fading into the light of the early afternoon.

She turns her head towards me, eyes opening to look at me with the same longing and desire I felt my whole life. For my mate and now for her.

"Regan?" her voice comes out soft, touching me deeper than I am comfortable to admit aloud.

I'm forced to look at her, be reminded how wrong it is to be taking advantage of her like I've just done. The swirl of conflicting emotions coming from her sweeps me further into her spell. Discomfort, embarrassment, desire, mostly desire as her excitement weeps from her core, its scent wafting to me, hardening me further with its scorching caress.

Her cheeks rosy from the feeling, her eyes are darker than usual under the still heavy with sleep lids. So close to her I can count her thick lashes, it's the last thing I want to do. I wish to lean down, give her a soft peck, maybe linger and express all that I am feeling now, give reign to the beast living inside the body when her lips part once more to breathe out a soft, "Why, Regan?"

Like turning off a switch, her desire is now suddenly gone and once again she's condemning me. Asking why I did what I did.

But how am I to explain to her that I can't control myself? How am I to tell her that she may not love me yet but I have fallen in love with her already? How am I to tell her that I want everything she can give me, perhaps more than she'll ever be willing to give me?

I don't. Instead, I stay silent. Praying for patience, grasping for the slipping through my fingertips control.

"Why did you do this?" she echoes, her voice now steadier. "Why are you behaving like a beast when you are supposed to prove to me you are a man?"

Her words cut right to the bone. Words she probably never spoke to him. But then she only doubts me, never him. She never demands from him, only from me.

I take my hands off her just for a second before I place them on her wrists, raising them over her head, pinning her beneath me. Too late now, the beast is the one in control.

"Never again. Do not shame me in front of my pack like this. I am your mate," the wolf growls inches away from her as the man fights for his way back in the front seat. "But I am your Alpha in front of the pack. Do you understand what I'm saying, little mate?"

Her face pales, all the blood draining of it as she starts trembling in my arms, her pupils dilating. Her body temperature drops down, muscles stilling in anticipation of his next move...

As if he's going to hurt her. As if she's still afraid of him... of me. And yet, she speaks.

"And when I think that, for a second, I actually believed that you've changed, that you've become a different man, that there could be a future for us but I guess I was wrong. Should have stuck to my own..." she trails off, her sigh as hopeless as the beast is right now.

Her disappointment is in every sillable, thick on her tongue as she lets it drift into the bond, the whip striking deep into my heart, the beast's heart, sticking its tentacles and then tugging until it cuts the flesh, tears it off.

"You are mine. Not his, mate. Never his and you better remember the next time you decide to let Collen touch what belongs to me, 
mate
," I hear the beast's wounded cry, sensing his retreat before it happens, leaving me alone to deal with the mess he's managed to dump on me once again.

For a few painful seconds, we just stare at each other, her eyes wide and scared as I struggle for words to explain what I just did and why. A trust that has been built with so much difficulty is now broken and not for the first time either.

"I-I'm sorry, Scarlet," I croak out the excuse, letting her go, rolling off her. I can no longer look at her, face the judgment I know is coming when I add, "I'm so sorry. I am behaving like a hormonal juvenile and I just can't co-"

"Control it?" she snaps. "Yeah, right. You made that more than clear once last night and now again."

"Please, you don't-"

"Oh, I understand, Regan," she fires, the sound of covers being angrily flung to the floor following her statement. "You aren't a monster. Oh, no, you are a violent psychopath and you clearly need some serious medical intervention, preferably the medicating type."

I take a deep breath, then turn around, noting her flushed with anger face as she glares at me, her eyes flashing back and forth between the red I've seen them once and their usual stormy gray.

"Don't say that when you don't understand what you're talking about," I grit out, spelling the words the best I could all the while struggling to keep the beast from resurfacing and doing more damage than he already has. "Being alpha is a constant struggle with your inner beast. Not to flip on every turn, not to grow and bite everyone who poses a threat-"

"How convenient for you, 
Alpha
. You just keep finding excuses for your behavior, probably did that even before you graced this place with your oh-so-awe-inspiring presence, didn't you? Well, let me spell it out for you so, hopefully, it'd sink in through this thick skull of yours. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

We're back to step one.

I sigh, raking my fingers through my hair, at a loss for words. And really, what do I say to this? She's right. None of this is an excuse. No matter what I am, how I've been honed to be this way, what have been done to me to turn me into the psychopath she claims I am, there's no excuse for hurting your mate. Not my upbringing and not the fear of losing her I now live with.

"And if you don't mind me asking, 
Alpha
... Who the hell is Collen?"

Shoulders slumping down, my gaze drops to the floor. No longer looking at her, no longer having any reason to believe this could ever work out, the human side of me decides that there's only one course he can take now.

"No one," the man lies.

Falling into the grave he has been digging for years.

(46) The Heart Of A Monster

|Regan's POV|

The door behind me closes with finality. Leaving her alone is the only answer I can give her at this moment.

What am I hiding from her? Why? 

I can't face those questions. I can't tell her the truth and break her heart, or worse, make her doubt me more than she does.

There is a swirl of confusing emotions inside me, her emotions crashing into the bond, reaching me so I will know what she's feeling, how much she's hurting. And she is hurting. Everything I do is hurting her, bringing her more pain, more sorrow. As if I am not her mate, not the one who is supposed to make her happy and change her life for the better, but the one who's ruining her more and more until she finally breaks.

So many questions, so much doubt.

What do I do to stop it? How do I tell her about her family and make her believe those words, make her trust me and not them?

I know she won't trust me.

As I trek downstairs a reek of burnt food wafts to my nose from the packhouse dining room, which is odd considering the eery silence inside the place.

After last night and so many of my men dying, the quiet inside the house is only to be expected. Only a handful of the residents are left now and most of them, I imagine, have sought shelter with their friends and relatives in town. A shelter from their own alpha.

This is too much. First, the threat of the wildlings just barely past the pack border, waiting for their leader's command to attack if I do not honor my promise to the sneaky bastard, and then the internal conflicts that just tore what I've once considered a worthy of respect community.

If it's not the wildlings, then other packs are going to replace them. Ripe for the picking, that's what we have become. A weak pack of traitors who tried to overthrow their alpha and failed only now to be racking their brains for a way out as others are already planning their move against us.

No doubt they are doing that. Only the Moon knows exactly how many enemies we've gained for the length of my father's rule and then during my own, too many for sure.

Stepping into the packhouse dining room, I find the source of the smell sitting on the dining table in a plate full of odd looking nearly black crisps of something that should have been bacon and something resembling scrambled eggs, though the only hint that it contains eggs are the pieces of eggshells complementing the odd brown concoction.

Wrinkling my nose in disgust I lift my eyes to search for the person who's prepared the 'meal' and find Sasha standing in the corner near the kitchen area that takes less than half of the vast room.

Her hands clasped in front of her, her stare is pointed downwards, her body trembling slightly in anticipation of my evaluation to her efforts in making my food.

"Why are you here?" I question after carefully considering my words towards the girl, who perhaps like some of my wolves, hasn't yet realized just how dead we all are.

"They sent me," the female mumbles, not moving her gaze from the tiled floor.

"What?"

"The females were too scared to come here as were the males to let them," Sasha whispers her explanation, her body now nearly convulsing.

I watch her nervously bite her lips, her face paler than ever, hands fumbling with the fabric of the royal blue dress she's wearing as she waits for my reaction to the news that none of the pack females charged with the task has bothered to prepare meals for today. Busy to tend to their mates, children or relatives or just too terrified to do the same for their alpha, strangely, after the argument I've just had with Scarlet, this is the last thing bothering me.

"So, they sent 
you
 to cook for the alpha?" I hear a snicker behind me. Glancing back, I find Scarlet standing at the doorstep, leaning against the door-frame with her arms crossed over her chest as her eyes inspect the plate on the table.

"I'm not sure whether to be offended or glad that there's just one portion of whatever disgusting thing you came up with on this table but, seeing the kind of 
feast
 you made, I think I'd rather pick the latter," she remarks, a smug expression coloring her face.

"It's her first time doing this, Scarlet. She's prone to some mistakes," I defend the she-wolf, not even sure why I do it, why I'm trying to protect a wolf of mine whom I know will meet her demise as sure as the rest of them, of us.

My statement is met with a raised in disbelief brow and another smirk. "This isn't what you said to me the first time I made such a mistake. A mistake I was 
prone to
 since it was my 'first time'." She adds air quotes, mimicking my voice. "But, I guess, the bedroom history you two have makes it all different, doesn't it?"

"That's enough," I cut in, curtly.

"Oh, but why? There's nothing better than to fondly remember the good ol' days when you were teaching me lessons in obedience as you were teaching her all the wicked ways she could possibly please you. If I remember correctly, and I know I do, it was on that memorable morning after you two spent your first night together when you came down here and said something in the lines of 'You worthless half-breed, how dare-"

"Enough!" I interrupt and turn towards Sasha. "Leave. Now!"

I watch the emotions flickering on the she-wolf's face for just a moment before she regains her composure and, plastering a blank look, scurries out.

A few minutes later, I'm left with my mate, the house so quiet it's only our breathing that I can hear and no longer the retreating steps of the other female.

Swirling to face her once again, I can feel the skin on my forehead furrowing with confusion as I think of my mate's reaction towards her former friend.

"So..." I draw out, the conclusion already made, however, still wondering how to put it out there. "What was that, Scarlet? Was it you being jealous of Sasha?" I ask, hope filling my chest, hope that there will be a way for me to protect her after all.

"Ha!" she snorts, giving me the stink eye. "Don't be ridiculous, 
Alpha.
 Getting jealous of someone over you would actually imply that I like you and right now you are most certainly my least favorite person on Earth. I think I made that quite clear a few minutes ago."

"You sure did, 
mate,
" I grit out, the beast not appreciating the reminder of where we stand and stirring with annoyance and the tiniest bit of anger, similar to the anger I can feel flowing through the bond, being directed at me.

"Alright, then I guess since we already know this" - she pulls the hem of the t-shirt she's wearing to fully expose the mark gracing the crook of her neck - "isn't going to be permanent, we'll need to renegotiate the terms of our deal. Only if you are ready to sit down and converse with me like a normal person and not get pissed at me or become violent, that is," she adds.

"I won't hurt you, Scarlet. And FYI, I can be civil when I need to," I say evenly, ignoring the sting of her words.

"So you say," she smirks at me, then moves from her spot against the door-frame and steps into the dining room, going straight for the plate on the table.

"I'll clean this up," I say, hurrying after her and holding my hands for her to give me the plate. "Let me."

There's an odd look in her stormy eyes as she seems to be considering whether she should let me do it, lips twitching with unspoken words while her confusion is swirling inside the bond.

"I can take care of it," I assure, guessing it's probably doubt in my domestic skills that's causing her hesitation.

She places the plate in my hands with the slightest of nods.

"You just sit here. I'll be right back," I tell her, before moving into the kitchen area to dump the inedible food Alexandra prepared.

For several minutes I rummage through the two-wing refrigerator, gathering the ingredients I need. I'm not an expert in cooking, not even half as skilled as her, however, as a boy, I've snuck enough times in my father's pack-kitchen to be able to make a few simple things on my own. It's probably the only good thing I've ever learned under my father's tutelage and not by his insistence either but rather because of my own conviction that a man should be able to take care of himself. Just in case.

It's the least I can do for her now after failing her the way I'm failing her.

In this particular case, as a final result of my effort, there are a few sandwiches, placed in two separate porcelain dishes. Maybe one of the last meals we'll ever have together before all hell breaks loose and the truth gets revealed.

My hand halts before filling the second glass with pineapple juice, wondering why I'm replacing my usual black coffee with something she likes, been doing it since discovering a simple preference like this one.

It's not just this, I realize, the events from last night and this morning replaying in my mind.

The beast has stopped. Retreated by her demand. Not just once, but twice in a day. Something he's never done before. For anyone but her.

"Are we going to have that talk or are you gonna keep musing over the mechanics of life for the rest of the day?" her call startles me back to reality only to see her standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"And, Alpha, I really don't think there's any space left in that glass," she smirks with a flick of her hand my way.

I glance down at my own hand, still holding the box of juice, pouring it into an already filled glass, the liquid overflowing to the surface and dripping on the floor.

"Oh, fuck." I set the box on the counter and tear off a few sheets of kitchen paper. "About our deal... I wish I could hold onto it but with the state of this pack right now I don't think-"

"What if I help you straighten it?" she questions as I move the plates to dry off the liquid on the counter.

"How are you going to do that, Scarlet? You're not going to be their Luna or my mate. As you already pointed out, the mark is going to fade if we don't complete the mating and we won't be doing it so that leaves me and my pack weak and unfit to face the wildlings in any eventual fight there might be. You saw them last night. None of them will follow me into a fight right now, none of them will trust me to lead them. Perhaps, by the end of the night, there will be even less of them left since I am sure most will just flee this pack as soon as they get over the shock of losing their pack mates. I can stop a few, probably a dozen of my wolves, but not as many as I suspect there will be."

"But what if you have both your Luna and your mate by your side? Will that change anything?"

My hands tremble. My chest feels like it's going to explode under the force of my hectic heartbeat. She's giving me false hope. She won't do that. She said she wouldn't.

But what is she saying now?

"What if we complete the mating and stand before them together united - Alpha and his Luna. Will that change anything?"

I drop the paper my hands are still holding, making one and then another step towards her. There's not a smile on her face. Her eyes are clear, unshaded by the storms like mirrors gazing up at me as she is silently waiting for my answer.

Hesitantly, my hand lifts to her face, tucking a dark curl behind her ear. It travels to her cheek, cupping it in its palm, trembling with emotion I wish to let out but hold back, my voice not my own but a cold, detached whisper of a man grasping for straws of his broken life, unbelieving that there's still hope when he says, "Everything. It will change everything."

"Of course, we'll need to renounce the mating and break the bond as soon as the wildlings are out of the picture and my family is safe," she says, stomping over my heart, the heart of a monster, yet one which loves her even if she doesn't love him back. "We're going to do it and then I'm going to leave you and your pack."

Why would I ever let her leave me? How does she think I can do that?

I open my mouth to tell her just that but then I remember.

"And you're going to let me, Regan," she says but she doesn't know that she won't be the one who'll leave me because I'd have already left her.

I will be dead.

"Yes," the word rolls off my tongue, burning it on its way out just before I crash my lips to hers, desperate and broken, ready to seal a connection that's just a pretense, will always be a pretense.

A lie I'm willing to believe in for as long as both that lie and my life will last.