The mate bond is his name tattooed on my heart, never to come off, to be replaced or ignored. It's his face and body constantly floating through my mind because I ache for him, not able to control my wandering thoughts. The mate bond is a curse cast upon me the moment I saw him, and it was cast upon him, as well. Theodore's words linger in my head as he drops me off at the house—my excuse being pressed into me—and I can't help but hope. He may act like he doesn't care for you, but he can't control it.
Alpha Grant can't control the mate bond, like me. He may be an Alpha, but he is no God. Even if he acts like he doesn't think once about me or care how I am doing, he can't control it, he can't help it. He must think about me just as I think about him. It's in the bond, my name is tattooed on his heart whether he likes it or not. But this is where I could get my ho
In the morning when he's gone off to do whatever an Alpha does, I near his bedroom doors hesitantly as if the ghosts of the people he's slain are pushing me towards them. My hand grips the handle but I let go as if it is coated in silver. He might kill me if he catches me in here. Okay, Iknowhe won't kill me, but the man still frightens me, and he takes away things I love. He may just kill my mother if he catches me in here, but I grip the handle again and push down, letting the door pull me inside with it.It's cold inside and dark. I feel for the light-switch, then I press them all down, the room dimly brightening up, just enough for me to move around. The windows are covered by thick curtains and I don't bother to move them.His scent is everywhere. It's sneaking up my legs, running its hands through my hair, kis
October17th, 1991I was in the bath last night and thought about drowning myself, then I realized that my body would never let that happen so grabbed my razor from the shower and broke it to get at one of the blades. I sat in the bath and repeatedly pressed it against my skin, but I was too scared of death to go through with it. I hid the broken razor under the cabinet where the little slot at the top leaves just enough room to hold it. He'd never see it. The only reason I found the slot was because I was looking hard enough. It is there with the blade, and I know I should not keep it, but it is nice to know that I have a way out.It has gotten worse. I never want to go outside anymore, and when I try to get dressed and look nice, everything I put on makes me upset because I hate everything I own. I
In the morning, Alpha Grant is gone, so I leave my bedroom and head to the kitchen for breakfast. Gail and Theresa are there, and I sit with them at the small table. Gail had already whipped something up, and she sets the plate in front of me only two seconds after I take a seat. "What is Alpha Grant's first name?" I ask and they both give me odd looks."You don't know?" Theresa asks."He hasn't told me.""It's James, after his father," Gail says.I nod. How perfect. "How long have you two been at the pack house?""I've been for five years, and Theresa has been here forever."Theresa smiles. "I've been since James was a young one."
I must look like something straight out of a nightmare, because when I attempt to open the door, I realize it is locked, and suddenly Gail peeks through the drawn curtains and shrieks. The curtains slip closed and I knock again. "Gail! It's me! Rae?" I call to her, "I'm fine, just let me in."She comes through the sliver in the curtains again, shouting through the glass of the window. "Rae? Dear Goddess! What on earth happened—""Will you please open the door?" I interrupt and wait the few seconds until the lock clicks and Gail swings the door open, her eyes wider than I've ever seen them—and I've held a knife to my neck. "I should explain," I say, attempting to get inside, but she blocks me."Is that your blood?""No," I
"I'm going to hate myself for this," he murmurs, his hands dragging down my arms. "I don't deserve you, not after what I've done."His hands come to my face, brushing back my hair and caressing my cheeks, one drops and the other hand runs down to my jaw. I grab his stray hand and hold it in between my own, covering it and bringing it to the center of my chest. "I'll forgive you, I just need time. I need to see that you're willing to open up to me. No more trying to push me away. No more trying to hurt me."I feel different. I have never felt like this before. There is an anxious feeling growing inside of me, making my chest hurt. Looking at James now, looking at some unknown version of him I didn't know existed, I feel anxious—nervous in ways that I can't quite understand. He's hurt me, I know that. People hurt others. I've hurt p
My bedroom is cold and empty feeling though my things clutter the space obnoxiously. I set my back down at the door and walk in as if this is someone else bedroom and I am an intruder.My mother isn't home, actually, she doesn't know that I am either. I had never called and told her I was leaving as I only found out last night. She'll be disappointed, I think. Sad for me. Her daughter was mated to an Alpha, was taken to his pack, then was sent home for her own good. It makes me sad just thinking about it.Having no desire to unpack, I leave my bag set against the wall and walk to the window, gazing out at the forgotten view of the forest, the view I used to stare out at while I cried when I was younger. I don't want to be here. Not anymore. This has become a sad place now, one where my half-filled soul will rot and wither away until I d
November 30th, 1991I cannot leave my bedroom. I cannot face him. I have lost my baby. My baby has slipped between my fingers, leaving me forever, never to come back. I feel empty. James feels empty. He has tried speaking with me, but I have nothing to say. There is nothing I want to say anymore. The doctor says that many women have miscarriages and it should not stop me from trying again, but there is a cloud of discouragement over my head. It floats there, never to go away. I want my baby. Goddess, please. I need my baby.December 1st, 1991I feel sad today. I feel sad every day. I want my baby back. Please, please, Goddess give me my child.December 5th, 1991
I immediately close the door behind me and turn to him with wide eyes. His scent is muffled and I can't tell if I am imagining him or not. "W-What are you doing here?"James nears me and my heart begins to race. The sight of him makes me feel secure, a warm feeling spreading throughout my shaking body. The darkness of my bedroom shadows his face, making him a figure in the night, something my eyes could be playing tricks with. Once close enough, the moonlight from my window lightens up his face and my throat grows dry. He reaches out to me, takes my hand in his, showing me that he is indeed real. "I'm here to finalize things, Rae," he says, his voice less smooth than it has been in the past.I struggle to speak, bringing me back to when I first met him. "You're going—you're going to reject me now?"