Blind Instincts

Chapter Twenty-Two

~Alaric's POV~

     I smooth the material with my hands, running them firmly along my neatly cut shirt. My heart has been erratic since I rouse, impulsive thoughts swarm through me. My intentions are entirely selfish.

I breath in my last lungful of fresh air, ducking under and down the dingey stairs of my basement. I know it's moreso a jail instead of a basement, but saying so sounds bad to public ears. It's hypocritical of me to judge people for being dishonest, though I can't say I've been prioritizing honesty lately.

I have an omega trail behind me with a plate of food, one that I snatch up when we are at the bottom of the stairs. They leave quickly, waiting at the top. I march to the security post where I'll be let through immediately, and down the hall. The closer I get the more my throat closes and the harder it is for me to swallow. She must know I'm here already, her keen sense of smell picking up anything from a kilometer away, when she's paying attention, of course.

Yesterday I seem to have caught her off guard, as I had just entered as I ordered her tendee to leave. If not from me, at least Monet has found peace in my pack with someone else. Alina and Monet seem to have became friends.

It's obvious she knows I'm here, as she sits on the flat mattress, directed towards the closed cell door. Her typically wavy hair is matted and sticks to her cheeks, one side shoved behind her ear, as the rest falls to the side with her tilted head. The way her gazeless eyes stare in my direction, makes a flutter disperse through my body uncontrollably. I only saw her yesterday, yet the loneliness I felt when I left was immeasurable. I feel even more drawn to her when she shows little to no affection towards me. She merely sits without motion, her lips in a line and her eyes a solid blue hue.

The mate bond, one which I thought I'd never have, has strengthened to whole new heights, for me. It seems as if it barely affects her, and that pains me.

I place her plate through the slit on the ground, sliding it into her inhumane cage. Her porcelain pink skin doesn't deserve to be covered in grime as it is now. Her reddened lips from being so bitten don't deserve to be torn and dry. I know nothing of her life, yet I know she deserves so much more than what I have offered. If the moon goddess exists, she is frowning upon me now.

If my parents were not who they are and I were not raised how I was, I would not be with someone who isn't my mate, and they would not dictate my small, confined life. Until I found Monet, I never cared about having a mate. I wasn't entirely sure they were real, until I felt the wave electricity pass through me, the night of her packs moon festival. I knew then that I needed her in my life, even though it was selfish and cruel. I took her from her home and I don't regret it one bit, and from her demur behaviour when she arrived here, I don't think she does either.

Touching her was like all of my stress and pent up emotions being released from my cold body. With her, I feel warm and welcome and I want to be better for my pack. But I always find myself reverting back.

"Alina couldn't come." I lied.

I stand curt, an intimidating height bearing over her sitting form. The position starts to make me uncomfortable, my authoritive height reminding me of last week, when I had to force her into submission.

All I want to do is talk to her; almost every moment of my time away, I see as wasted time I could have been getting to know her. She's been near me for so long that the bond is making me inseparable from her, yet the only thing I know about her is that she's shy. Not only shy, but anxious, and wise. She's keen, can memorize a room in 5 minutes. She has fearful instincts that come out when she's most scared, her wolfs reflex's could send even the strongest alphas into a panic.

"Is she alright?" She questions in a quiet yet firm tone, her lips moving ever so slightly.

I take this time to end my guilty feeling of standing above her, and kneel down on the cold concrete floor. Her eyes remain stoic and bounce down slightly, following the sound of my movements. Her cracked and almost bloodied lips twitch to the side, a tongue poking out to moisten the probably painful cuts.

"She's okay." I say in a quiet, low tone. I match my voice to her soft one as good as I can, though I admit, I'm not good at sounding gentle.

I stare at her and analyze her tiny movements. Not that long ago, she was too scared to even open her eyes around me. Her speech was in shambles and she couldn't utter a word without stuttering. It makes me desperate to know how she's doing now, how she likes being in my pack. Though if I were to ask and she said she hated it, I think I'd fall apart. And then I'd lock her back up in her room and try not to feel bad as I continued to live.

We fall silent and I don't expect her to say anything more. I've been thinking about the ocean under the cliff and how I found her so close to the edge. She was in her wolf form at the time, but I could almost feel her emotions. Maybe as her mate, it's possible. Maybe her emotions were so strong as she stared over the horizon into the sky, that some poured over to me. I wish I told her, I feel it too, Monet, but I couldn't.

I least expected for her to speak to me, so I'm caught off guard when she tilts her head and asks, "how are you, Alpha?" It makes my stomach dance to hear her inquiring about me, but that only lasts a second. Then I find an irritation in her formality.

"I'm not your alpha, I'm your mate." I find myself annoyed, yet my voice can only muster a soft, lilted tone, like hers, "and you can call me Alec." 
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Word Count: 1200