Night Alpha

12 - Sulk Sad

The tip of his fingers darken, they twitch at his side. When he opens his mouth to relax his jaw, his teeth are pointier, fangs thick and sharp barely contained behind his lips. His skin ripples again, as if to contain something inside. When he looks at me, the boyish look is gone, face full of anger and eyes full of dark pupils.

I stop breathing, not because of the news, not because of the alpha. It's not the pressure that spreads cold ice under my skin. He looks terrifying. I have trouble grasping at the memories of smiles, of red and pancakes. I have never seen a wolf change, never seen one close to.

His veins become darker too, splitting his tanned skin, ripping his face. I don't know what he sees when he looks at me. Curled up behind the sofa, hands trembling over the books. He gives me soft growl, inviting and low. I think he's trying to soothe me, I swallow saliva to alleviate my dry throat. All monsters.

The dark has gone over his fingers, up to his wrist, like hands dipped in liquid darkness. My eyes stings, I bite my cheek to keep it at bay. It that what a regular turn looks like? I hear the bedroom door shut, his phones buzzes a couple times. He leaves the room, without ever breaking eye contact with me, I clutch the books closer.

There's no sound as he walks, I don't even hear him breathe. Nothing happens for a few seconds, until I hear him hitting the door. Just once and all the walls shake. The noises stop for a minute, I wonder what he's doing. I'm still shaking, clutching the books against my chest. A black hand slowly appears from the threshold.

Skin dark and matte, nails turned into claws, short and sharp. When his arm emerges it's turned black as well, don't think the light can hit it. But that's all I see, somehow my nerves settle down when his hand takes the handle and slowly closes the door. He doesn't poke his head in, surprising when he can't seem to not be looking at me all the time.

It's reassuring, because I don't think I can handle another fright today. Monsters. I don't hear anything. When did I become such a coward, hiding behind furniture shaking? I don't know how much time passes. I let my head rest against the shelves, books digging into my back. I wipe my face from the sweat that built up on my skin.

I look at the map, fixated instead. This has given me even more motivation to get the fuck out. I try to memorize the terrain, every route, make plans and backups. I'm dozing off when the door opens again, the sound of the handle snaps me awake. His hands are back to their normal color.

There's no dark vein going up his arms or neck, no ripple under his skin. His hair is shriveled, going in all directions despite being short. There's something akin to sadness or fear on his face. All the anger from before is gone, did he change in the bedroom? I don't think I want to know.

We lock eyes until he walks to the sofa, stops a few feet from it. He looks at his feet, stays unmoving. If the prick isn't going to talk then I will. I pick myself up, arm against the rest and other taking the first book that isn't red from the pile at my feet.

« Why didn't you tell me? » I throw the book at his head, whisper yelling. Somehow I can't find it in me to raise my voice.

He avoids it by rolling his head to his left, doesn't even look up to dodge it.

« What did you think? That I wouldn't mind being kidnapped, taken from my family, from my people? That I would be overjoyed to be paired up with a damn monster ? » My voice raises as I go, but I'm out of breath as I finish. I don't remember screaming ever, but this as got to be the closest to it.

When I launch the second book, it doesn't go for his head, lowers to soon and hits him in the chest, he doesn't react. He growls weakly at the end of my accusations, gathers his hands in front of his privates. His head stays low. I'm out of ammunition when I fish for another under the plaid.

I turn to the shelf, pick up another and aim. But I see him, waiting to be hit, head hung low and shoulders sagged. I put the book back.

« Do you understand I don't want to be here? That I don't want any of this? » My voice gets lower as I go, throat clenching and eyes threateningly wet. His body shakes, violent tremors rack his form.

When he raises his head, I'm stunned as tears go down his cheeks. It's violent and heartbreaking, his intimidating form reduced to shrinking onto itself. He swaps the tears away but they don't stop, he doesn't glare at me no- he looks at me for confort, lines around his mouth form and I think all the sadness he gives me might just end up in full on bawling.

I remember that's just a 22 years old kid behind the beast. He turns around and sits down, arm still reaching to wipe his tears away. Is hiding or sulking? He reminds me of Max somehow. I put the red hard cover on the sofa's sit. Pulling the cover up back on my shoulders I get up and around the sofa, over the littered books.

I don't think he heard me behind his sniffling because when the plaid grazes his crossed knee he looks up in surprise. I ignore him, sit crossed legged as well by his side. When did I become so weak? He turns his head back down, pressing his palms against his face. I'm tempted to rub his back to soften his sniffles, I keep my hands clutched tightly against the cover instead.

« Are you going to let me go home? » when he has calmed down, I ask quietly. I pick at my fingers, afraid of his answer. He's made it clear but if there's the slightest chance he will let me go without a fight I'm willing to take it.

He lets out a breath, but he doesn't growl. His hair follows slightly when he shakes his head no. Well that answers it. I was resigned to run anyway. I let out a sigh, fumble with the cover.

« Who was that anyway? The alpha? Is he your friend? » I remember the red hair, shitty grin and breathy laugh. They have got to be friends for him to come. For him to have a brawl in his study.

I see him nod twice out of the corner of my eye. He fumbles for his phone, types quickly. I don't even understand how it can still work with all the cracks.

« Alpha to be. » he inclines it so I can see.

So he's the son of the queen, the same red. Why would an Alpha be friends with a warrior? It's a bit too warm between the heavy cover and his body heat so I let the plaid off my shoulders to pool at my waist. I catch him glancing at my arms and neck.

« You know I'm not going to let you fuck me, right? » I spit out incredulously. He doesn't answer, his cheeks burn a familiar red and he looks away with a low but silent growl.