His Possession

14: Heartaches with no breaks

"Don't be scared...
Women can handle the worst kind of pain. You'll find out one day."

-Gayle Forman

***

My eyes leisurely wander across his serene countenance, captivated by his irresistible allure. I find myself marvelling at his ethereal beauty, almost convinced that he is not of this mortal realm. It is true, after all, that he is not human; he is a werewolf, a creature of mystique and enigma.

Even in slumber, he exudes an intoxicating magnetism that should be deemed illegal. His visage is a testament to his charm: the meticulously groomed eyebrows, the delicate veil of long lashes veiling his serene grey eyes, the slightly askew nose, evidence of a previous break, the chiselled contours of his jawline, and those lips, oh, those soft, alluring lips that hold the power to transform me into an insatiable addict with a mere touch.

I must be losing my sanity, for my thoughts have spiralled into realms of unrestrained desire. Is it possible that I have not fully emerged from my heat-induced frenzy?

The clock reads six in the morning, and here I lie, nestled in bed with Blake, my mate, oblivious to the passing hours. Despite the grievances I bear towards him, I cannot deny the pleasure derived from this stolen moment, where I can indulge in the captivating sight before me.

The serenity etched upon his face feels unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the cold exterior he so often portrays. If only he would reveal this tender side of himself when he is awake, perhaps then I would find solace.

Blake had been my pillar of support throughout the torturous ordeal of my recent heat cycle. When I believed I was on the precipice of my demise, he was there, steadfast and unwavering. I suppose it is to be expected, given that he is my mate, the destined counterpart to my soul. However, I find myself consumed by anger, for he had concealed this truth from me. Why did he not disclose the profound connection we share? And more importantly, why did my own father keep me in the dark? How many more concealed truths await my discovery? The weight of uncertainty presses upon me, leaving me disoriented and bereft of trust.

A deep, husky voice breaks the silence, jolting me from my contemplations. "Good morning," he groans, his tone laced with sleepiness. I turn my head to face him, and in an instant, his arm tightens around my waist, drawing me closer to him.

"Good morning," I respond with a smile, a fleeting desire to prolong this tranquil interlude momentarily overwhelming my resentment. If only every morning could be as serene as this, despite the brewing storm of unanswered questions. I will save my inquiries for a later time; for now, I wish to bask in this stolen serenity.

"What were you thinking about?" Blake's voice resonates, breaking the tranquillity that had settled upon us. His inquiry catches me off guard, a gentle reminder that the stolen moment we shared is fleeting. I'm torn between revealing the storm brewing in my mind and preserving the fragile peace that currently envelopes us. A conflict rages within me, but I choose to shield him from the chaos that threatens to consume my thoughts. With a nonchalant shrug, I dismiss his question, unwilling to disrupt the fleeting tranquillity we've managed to find amidst the tumult.

A hint of disappointment flits across Blake's eyes, as though he perceives the fleeting nature of our brief interlude. The silence that follows feels heavy, weighted with unspoken words and unresolved tensions.

I find myself yearning for more, for an extension of this stolen moment, yet reality creeps back in, reminding me of the complexities that surround us. It's as if time accelerates, swiftly carrying us away from the serenity we had briefly grasped. The brevity of our connection leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth, a reminder of the fragile nature of our bond.