CHAPTER SIX

RILEY

Right here.

On these pile of clothes, laid at a spot far from the fire place, is where I lay for many nights.

I have been avoiding Jude like a plague. I feel like when I’ll finally come face to face with him, I might melt from either embarrassment or adoration, as, of course, those words he spoke to me the other night did nothing to the new feelings I have grown for him.

I had still dreamt about him that night.

In the dream, I saw us in our wolf form, running together in the wild. Then the next thing I saw was me heavy with child. I had woken up with a frown, which very quickly transformed into a bright smile.

I want that with Jude.

I want that with my husband.

But that would never happen if I continue sleeping here.

So I waited for him to summon me into his room, into his bed, into his arms.

Well, waiting is what I’m still doing now, as he hasn’t still sent for me.

He has become so scarce, that I have only seen him once since our wedding. And that once, me being me, I had hidden. Why? I still don’t know.

It has been days. And still no sign of Jude anywhere. Mates shouldn’t stay away this long from each other. They shouldn’t at all. But mine is an Alpha that carries the responsibilities of the entire pack on his shoulders, so I get little or no time to see him.

Lucky me.

I sit staring at the flames of the fire that Theresa has put a pot on, thoughts on Stefani. Im sure sge misses as much as her miss her.

“That would soon be going into the pot.”

Theresa’s voice jolts me back to the present. I have a knife an onion in my right hand and a half cut onion on my left.

It is an onion that Theresa and I had to banter on who was to cut it. She had insisted in do all, while I just sit. But I had insisted against it, because, I am used to doing all the chores.

Well, I didn’t tell her that.

At the end, I realize that had wanted to do the cooking, not because she thought of me as Luna, or out of plain respect. No.

She doesn’t just like me.

This isn’t me playing the victim. Staying with her, while she prepared every meal, had shown me her dislike for me.

Ranging from the grass cutter meal, which I did not confront her about, to the monosyllabic replies which she offers to my questions and then we move to how she intentionally ignores me when I summon her on very rear occasions.

I had one day asked her to join me for my evening walk, which I go for, round the Base, when I feel too bored. This, she had said an abrupt ‘No’ to, without even thinking about it.

To my knowledge, she shouldn’t be older than myself, and judging from her being a help, then she us obviously an Omega, just like me. But I guess, being the Alpha’s help is a higher kind than what I used to be right?

“Sorry.” I say, as I drop my thoughts and focus on cutting the onion.

I can feel her glare on me, but I ignore it.

“You are left handed.” That comes out more of a statement than a question.

But I still reply. “Yes.”

“You eat with your left hand?”

Her question makes me look at her. From where she sits, closer to the fir than myself, I can see interest and curiosity in her eyes. Is she hungry for human communication just like I am?

“It is my active hand. I use it in doing everything. In eating, in holding things, in weeding, in scrubbing, even in scratching my hair.”

Theresa’s chuckle brings a smile on my face. I could really use a friend in this strange and lonely place.

“You are pretty when you smile.” I compliment.

Her blond hair blends well with her light brown eyes, giving her a subtle kind of feminine glow.

She collects the plates from my hand, which I stretch towards her, then shrugs.

“I know. And I am prettier when I don’t.”

Okay.

Silence returns, as she begins to put in ingredients to the pot of mushroom porridge.

“Ehem. Excuse me, Luna.” A voice comes from the entrance.

I turn and lock eyes with a new face. As it is already dark and the fire does little to illuminate his face, I look back at Theresa to see if there was familiarity on her expression, but she has her attention sorely on the pot.

Asking who he is might be rude, I guess, so I skip that part.

“Yes?” I answer, holding my head high.

“Alpha calls for you.”

My heart immediately stops beating.

Then when it resumes, it beats at a speed of a thousand pumps per second. Too fast, I feel I might pass out.

Well, passing out isn’t an option, as the messenger still stands, waiting.

“Does he want me now?” I ask and by Theresa’s low snicker, I realize how almost desperate that came out.

“Yes Luna. He said to search for you and bring you to him.” No emotions are on his face as he says this.

“Okay.” I stand and brush off imaginary dust from the dress I have on. It is one of Theresa’s old dresses which she had offered to me when I had worn that white dress for three days straight.

“Let’s go.” I say when I get close with o him.

“After you milady.” He moves out of the way, a signals me out, with his hand.

Is it weird that that gesture makes me feel like royalty?

I almost hadn’t when he called me Luna, because nobody has called me that since I became that.

I step in front of him, my head held really high, I begin to march forward, though I have no idea where Jude is.

I head towards the direction that leads to his room. And when the messenger, which from his thumping steps on the hardwood floor, I know is following me, doesn’t stop me, I move further.

On getting to the door, I take a moment to take deep breathes.

I don’t know how the messenger registers this action in his mind, but before I am ready to take the bold walk into Jude’s room, he stretches, grabs the knob and twists it.

As the door opens wider, I shock, I look at him. His face was still expressionless, aside a small scrunch in his nose.

I ignore that and take a big step into Jude’s room. What is supposed to be our room.

As the warmth from the candles and the fireplace envelopes me, it registers in my mind that it is something I miss when I am finally thrown out for the night.

I don’t come face to back with Jude this time. Now, I am welcomed by his absence.

“Where is he?” I say to no one.

Standing still for a bit, my eyes roaming, I realize that I didn’t take out time to look at the space the last time I was here.

Now that I am embraced by silence and with no eyes in sight, I decide to explore.

The first thing that catches my eyes after making this decision, is the large well-made mattress.

Like a spell, that large object at the far right of the big room, begins to summon me to itself.

And yes of course, I go to it. I touch and it feels firm, welcoming.

I sit on it and it feels awkward, like I’m in a place where I shouldn’t be found. It’s weird, but I can’t shake off the feeling, so I stand up.

There is an hour glass on his bedside table and beside that table, there is a pile of scrolls neatly arranged on the floor.

Curiosity takes control of my legs as they begin to move towards the scrolls. Reading is something I love to do, but Ma owned only few, which were part of the things Pa threw into the fire. And after that time, there was barely space in my life to eat, talk more of reading.

My walk towards the object of my curiosity is cut short as…

The door flies open.

I freeze facing the desk, back to the door. For a moment, I forget to breathe.

The sound of heavy footsteps greet my ears. Then the voice follows.

“My mate?” Jude’s voice comes out sloppy.

Weird.

Though it has been days since I heard his voice for the first and last time, I would recognize it anywhere. And now, I can detect something.

My breathing returns as I get ready to turn around.

“Your messen…”

My words and my thought are cut shut when big heavy hands are thrown around my waist. My back to his front, his chest and all.

Goodness.

My brain starts to work like a clock, fast, as I try to understand this situation. I have never seen this in those awkward books Stefani would bring to read to me, I have never imagined this.

Well, I have imagined us together, but not like this. With the time apart, I had expect some talking before…

I flush at my own thought. And the closeness of his body go mine makes me all hot.

“Where have you been?” His breath fans my neck, and I almost shiver.

Almost.

His breath comes to my nose, and I smell it.

Liquor.

He is drunk. He is all clingy and asking me where I have been like he can’t remember sending me out. He obviously cannot remember, because he is drunk.

That smell takes me to a time I don’t want to remember. So I try to free myself from his hold.

Noticing my move, he tightens his grip. Before I can push further, I feel his lips. Those thin soft looking lips on my neck.

I freeze again.

The mating bond and marking is something I am fully aware of. So as he goes all lips, tongue and TEETH on my neck, my pulse quickens.

Am I about to get marked?

Jude continues that…stuff for some time, while I just stand there, like a log, feeling nothing.

Lips still on my neck, he turns so that he is now standing in front of me. He kisses his way from my neck, bites my left earlobe, then his kiss travels to my chin, then my cheeks, then….

I have my lips apart, ready to receive my husband’s kiss.

My very first kiss.

His lips move from my cheek to the side of my lips.

Then he stops.

His hot liquor oozing breath meets my face as he whispers under his breath, “Rat mouth. That dirty mouth.”

My previously closed eyes fly open in shock, confusion and something else I can’t understand that leaves a lump in my throat.

For a moment, we stare at each other, as I look into those blues that I fell in love with. Blues that were now drowsy and unstable.

He raises his hand and it takes everything with in me not to flinch. He brushes off a strand of hair from my face. He takes that strand to the back, to align with others.

But he doesn’t let go, instead, he grabs the whole of my hair in a tight grip, throwing my head back.

I let out a gasp in shock, as the sharp burning Pain pierces into my brain from my scalp.

My hand instinctively flies to the one he had on my hair. But once my hand meet his, he slaps it awy with his other hand.

I strain my eyes to look into his, to read his expression. To know what is wrong. Those soft blues are now hard.

Hungry.

“On your knees my Luna.”