Amalie
Easton lowers me to his bed and rushes to the bathroom to get towels and a first aid kit.
I’ve never been in his room before. Easton himself forbade it.
My face is on fire. Both eyes are nearly swollen shut and my nose aches and throbs along to the beat of my heart. It’s probably not that bad, but lately, I’ve been slow to heal. I’m tired all the time, and I always feel like I’m on the brink of death. “How bad?” I ask when Easton returns with the supplies.
“You’ll be healed up before the wedding,” he says in a soothing tone.
He flips the first aid kit open and takes out a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze. He wets the gauze with antiseptic and gently starts to clean the cuts on my face. I hiss softly when the peroxide stings the claw marks. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I’ll be quick.”
I swear, sometimes I think I’m going crazy. He can be so sweet when the mood takes him.
He finishes cleaning me up and wraps his massive paws around my face. I peer at his handsome features. “You need to rest,” he announces. “Will you stay with me?”
It’s not as if I can say no. I nod and despite myself start to cry. It’s been a stressful three months. I just want to get the wedding over and done with.
“There now,” he hushes me and pulls me into his embrace as he lies back and lifts his feet onto the bed. “It’s all over.”
It’s not over. It’s just beginning.
A low rumble erupts in the depths of Easton’s chest. Within seconds, I’m calm and drift off into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I wake up around midday. Easton is fully dressed in one of his immaculate suits and sitting on a chair next to the bed, resting his left ankle on his right knee. “Welcome back,” he says. “You look much better. How do you feel?”
I frown and touch my face. The scratches have healed, but my cheek and nose are still a little swollen “Great. Thank you,” I say softly. “You are very kind.”
“Good. That’s very good,” he whispers. His voice is icy calm. Too calm.
He drops his leg and leans forward, resting his elbows on his spread thighs.
What the hell did I do now? Surely, he doesn’t blame me for what the girls did?
“Where is your necklace?” he asks.
Oh. I touch my bare neck. “I…“ Crap. I have no idea. “I think it fell off when the cult attacked me.”
He raises his perfectly sculpted eyebrows at me. “The cult?”
“That’s what I call the twins and their little pack of followers.”
He snorts lightly. “You are clever, aren’t you?”
I say nothing. It wasn’t a compliment.
“Clever little girl,” he mocks, “but not as clever as you think you are. Where is the necklace?”
“I really don’t…I’m sure I put it on this morning.”
My heart bounces against my ribs as I watch his eyes grow cold and hard. “You’re lying to me, Amalie.”
“I’m not,” I say.
Panic wells up in my chest while I try to think, try to remember where the necklace is.
An image of the golden necklace lying on my dresser pops into my head. “I- it’s at home,” I say quickly, relief flooding through me. “I forgot to put it on before I left.”
“At home?” Easton echoes. “Is that where I told you to keep it?”
“I mean…it’s a little flashy. It doesn’t really go with-”
“I thought I told you to never take it off?” He narrows his eyes at me and in that moment he looks much older than twenty-one. “You disobeyed me.”
“I…what?” I sit upright and jut out my chin. “No. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
The tip of his tongue darts out and he catches the top of his lip with it while he slowly shakes his head from side to side. “What do you think people will say when they see that my mate, a fucking spirit wolf of all things, disobeys me?”
“Eh?” I ask, genuinely perplexed. “No one noticed.”
He curls his long fingers into fists. “I did, Amalie,” he says, in a scary soft tone.
My stomach flips over and an icy cold hand of fear grips my heart. “I don’t….I mean-”
“Shut up,” Easton cuts me off.
I close my mouth and stare at the man who is supposed to love and protect me.
At long last, he spreads his legs a little further apart and points to the space between his feet. “Here. On your knees,” he says.
It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. “What? No, I don’t deserve…” my words trail off as I look into his unforgiving eyes.
“On your knees, Amalie.” He pushes his aura out at me.
Screaming inwardly, I roll off the bed. I have to keep pretending. He has to keep believing that he can still control me with his Alpha command.
Knowing what’s to come, I slowly pad across the floor to kneel between his feet as he ordered. Easton pulls his phone out and starts to read something. “Eyes on the floor,” he says.
I drop my head and look at my intertwined fingers. I am not allowed to look at him. I’m not allowed to sit on my heels or move. I am to stay in this position, back straight, head bowed, until he gives me permission to apologise.
He does it this way because that’s how he found me. On my knees, begging Tyler to take me into the woods so my family wouldn’t see me die.
The floor is cold and hard, but it’s better than the sharp rock in the forest he usually takes me to.
After an hour, it feels as if the hardwood starts to fuse with my skin and bones. My knees ache, my back hurts, and the muscles in my neck start to spasm.
Another hour goes by before I start to tremble. My thighs are on fire and I’ve lost all feeling in my knees and feet.
“You may apologise and beg my forgiveness when you’re ready,” Easton says and withdraws his aura.
This part is up to me. I can stand here on my knees and suffer, or I can beg like a dog. “I- I apologise, Easton.”
He lifts his eyes to look over his phone at me. “Alpha.”
I clear my throat. “I apologise, Alpha.”
“For what?”
“Taking off the token you so…” I have to think quickly “…so lovingly gave to me. I disrespected you and your gift.”
He nods. I start to get up, but he quickly drops his foot on my shoulder, forcing me back to my knees. This part’s new and unusually cruel. Ordinarily, my apology signals the end of my punishment. “Not so fast. You haven’t learned your lesson yet.”
“I have!” I protest.
He smiles and very slowly shakes his head. “This keeps happening, Amalie. I don’t know how else to get through to you.”
“I- yes, I know,” I agree. I want to grab him by the ears and scream in his face. “I am not worthy of you, but I am trying.”
That’s not good enough for him. “You will stay there and think about what you’ve done until I give you permission to get up.”
Easton sighs as if the burden of being my mate is just a little too much, and swings his leg over my head. A second later, I hear him fall on his bed. I try to look over my shoulder at him. “Eyes front, little girl,” he says without even looking up from his phone.
I stare at the clock on the mantel behind the vacated chair. I’m thirsty, my body aches, I need to pee, I’m hungry, and it’s happening all at once. It disorientates and overwhelms me.
One minute starts to feel like an hour.
The insides of my thighs quiver like a leaf caught in a storm.
An hour starts to feel like a day.
I’m dizzy and nauseous, my eyes are heavy, and my bladder pulsates and throbs along with the tick-tick-tick of the clock.
“Ready to get up?” Easton asks.
I clear my dry throat. “Yes, Alpha,” I say hoarsely. “Thank you for my punishment.”
“You are welcome.” He rushes over to my side and helps me to my feet. “Bathroom’s through there,” he points to a brown door next to his dresser.
I’d run if I could, but my legs are numb. Pins and needles stab at my awakening muscles.
Holding on to the wall for support, I limp into the bathroom and fall on the toilet.
When I’m done, I find Easton back in his chair, holding a bottle of water and a wrapped sandwich. “Drink the water before you leave,” he instructs, and I feel the warmth of his aura wash over me. “Take the food with you.”
I accept the bottle with a shaky hand and uncap it. Easton watches while I drink. When the bottle is empty, he grips my hips and pulls me onto his lap. He hooks his finger under my chin and gently kisses me.
I kiss him back. If I don’t, he’ll realise that I stopped feeling the mate spark weeks ago. “You’re forgiven, little girl.” He smiles at me and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Now run home to your father.”
