Intentions
1760 Words
ALLE
Clarisse and I had spent the past five years proving ourselves, proving our strength.
And strength was not something we lacked.
The only thing the majority of the pack elders hated more than having to answer to a female beta was having to answer to me.
Everything was stacked against us from the beginning but Clarisse and I…we were cut from the same cloth.
We never argued or tried to prove our worth with words when we knew our actions would do all the work, and that it did.
She has always been by my side in the most terrifying and the most confusing parts of my life yet…
I could really use her right now.
I stared down blankly at my blood stained palms, my mind still slightly muddled from the restless sleep I had just woken up from.
My mouth was dry and every inch of me ached as though I’d run for miles and miles, perhaps I did.
I don’t know.
Everything else after that…word was fuzzy.
It wasn’t a nightmare, I think to myself as I feel the dried blood crust up and pull at my skin.
I could still hear the screams, I could still feel the grass and the stones digging into my flesh, the image of those flames so vivid in my mind, so much so that I could still feel the hotness like a ghostly caress against my skin.
Over a hundred of my pack members dead and the fate of the rest of them who weren’t in attendance at that wedding was still unknown.
I was in an unfamiliar room, unsure of how long I’d slept or how I even ended up in this sparsely furnished room.
It was clinically organized, decorated in dull colors and it contained the student bed I was on and a table and desk next to it.
There were two doors, no windows, no other furniture or even a curtain yet, the room was lit up by a rectangular fluorescent light right above the bed.
It felt like a jail cell with a softer bed, the thought of it took me back to the days my father had to visit Clarisse and me in juvie a few times, that disappointed expression that often carried a hint of pride whenever he saw me.
I miss him.
I resisted the urge to hug my knees to my chest, I resisted the urge to cry as I willed myself to come to terms with everything that had happened, to think up a solution.
The first person that walks in though one of those doors would die, I made the decision swiftly.
And as if reading my mind, one of the doors swung open, and he walked in.
Him.
Leather shoes.
His large body filled the doorway, he was built like a mountain, I thought to myself.
He was wearing a different shirt, a dark gray that almost seemed like a mockery now.
He paired it with dark washed jeans that hugged his powerful, muscular thighs and as expected black leather shoes underneath.
My eyes roamed back up to his face and despite myself, air rushed out from my lungs as I observed every inch of those perfectly carved features.
My gaze taking in every detail as though I wanted it burned into my memory like a tattoo.
I did.
He was responsible for all of this.
His dead silver eyes regarded mine…or maybe not. He wasn’t looking at me but the spot behind me which I found strange but then again, everything about him screamed unconventional.
Danger.
But I wasn’t afraid, no, I was pissed.
He stood there, expression blank as though I was some specimen that fascinated him…his mate.
It left a bitter taste in my mouth as the word popped up in my mind yet again, so I opted for what should have been the only reality.
My enemy.
That is all he is, that is all he will ever be to me.
“Alle Thorn,” he began, “Is that right?” his voice was cold, barely carrying emotion as he approached stopping only when he was a step away from the foot of the bed.
My fingers gripped the sheets between me as rage burned through my very being.
“You should know that,” I gritted out.
“Seeing as you drugged me and dragged me all the way here,” I exhaled shakily, “What I'm curious about is you,” my head tilted to the side in confusion as I observed his strange eyes once more…
“Who are you?”
“Eager to know your mate?” he raised a brow, amusement coating his words though it wasn’t so obvious.
“No,” I ground out, “I would like to know the name of the man whose heart I intend to rip out.”
“Hmm.” A low rumble left him, the corners of his not too full lips twitched and then relaxed in the next second.
His eyes still unfocused and trained at the spot just behind my head.
Is that all he has to say?
A f*****g hum?!
“You killed hundreds of people, my people…you came into my pack and killed them!”
“It had to be done,” was his reply, his arms crossed over his chest and his brows pulled together, his expression changing into one of impatience and probably irritation.
His words left me momentarily stunned before my anger came back in full force and I ripped the sheets that covered my legs and jumped off the bed.
The room spun, but I remained standing despite my body’s protests.
I gritted my teeth so hard my gums burned from the strain, “Excuse me?”
I took a slow, shaky step forward, my eyes never leaving his.
He took a while to respond but his face turned and then faced me.
“I am not here to talk about that,” he waved his hands dismissively, “We are mates,” He announced as if the news held more importance over the lives he took.
“I don’t give a s**t!” I snapped, taking a clumsy swing at his pretty little face, he caught my fist before it made contact and the corner of his lips pulled up into a smirk, the sight of it catching me off guard.
No, it was the feel of his fingers against my fist, his touch burning as though he held hot coals in his hand.
It didn’t hurt, it seared my soul like a curse, burning through my skin, my bones…sliding down and trickling down my belly.
I shuddered a breath and pulled away from him, my body barely staying up with my sudden movements.
“Winter Draven,” he crossed his arms over his chest again as he said what I assume is his name, still not meeting my gaze.
“And I might be blind,” he nodded at my fist, “But hell will freeze over before you’ll ever land a hit on me...again,” he added the last word with his lips twisted into a frown as he no doubt recalled my claws in his chest.
Blind?
His voice was sterner now, impatient as his foot began to tap.
“Everything that was once yours is now mine, the sooner you get that through your head, the easier it will be for you to adjust to your new role.”
Is he being f*****g serious right now?
He sounds if everything else can be dismissed, as if all that matters is what happens after, not what he did. Not the sin he'd committed.
Hatred pulsed through my veins like liquid, mixing with rage and damn it…need.
“For one,” I began, seething.
“I will not be taking on any f*****g role,”
“Is that so?” he c***s up a brow, now visibly amused.
“Secondly, as soon as I get my strength back, you’re f*****g dead!”
“Oh?” he mused, looking as though he saw me as a child making empty threats.
I clenched my fists, ignoring the fluttering in my chest at the sight of his lips, my wolf whining softly, almost eager to close the distance between us, I almost gave in, almost.
“You have no power here,” he informed cooly, “Your only duty now, is to birth me an heir.”
An incredulous laugh leaves my lips before I can stop it, the sound was devoid of humor.
“You’re delusional…Winter Draven!” I spat with a mocking sneer.
He huffed, closing the distance between us in a split second, he leaned in, his dead eyes holding mine with an empty gaze.
Blind, he’d said.
He couldn’t see me.
“You should watch the way you speak to me,” he growled, “I have killed for far less.”
I snorted, “Is that supposed to scare me?”
I leaned in closer as well in challenge, regretting immediately as his spicy scent assailed my senses, making my stomach do something weird, frustratingly weird.
“I’d rather die than let your d**k come close to me, much less have a child for a murderer like you!”
His hand shot up in the next second and gripped my neck, his warm fingers holding my neck in a tight yet not uncomfortable grip, the pads of his fingers set my skin alight, digging softly into my flesh, sending sharp sparks wherever he touched.
My breaths were heavier now, ragged, my heart out of control. It took a few moments for me to realize it wasn’t just me, his steady breathing had become just as f****d up as mine and hot breaths left his lips, brushing against my skin.
I ached.
So badly.
“That can be arranged,” he purrs against my skin, “But I’ll only let you die after you have my child,” his lips brushed against my earlobe and a low, embarrassing sound slipped past my lips.
“Is that clear?”
I pulled away slightly and met his eyes though I knew he couldn’t see me.
Our breaths mingled and the urge to press my lips against his was almost impossible to resist.
My wolf acted as though she was in heat, eager to feel his skin against mine.
“Get. Fucked.” I said to him.
“Oh,” a low, dark chuckle leaves him, “I intend to.”
- Writer
