King of Beasts

Chapter 20

Gabe was suffocating her. Charlotte knew she couldn't be annoyed, had no right to be, so she bit her lip when he stood with her and followed her into the kitchen, and held her tongue when he watched her make a sandwich for the two of them, and didn't eat his until he was sure she was done, and alright. God, and she hadn't even asked to see the bodies of the rogues yet. She could only imagine how he'd react to that inquiry.

"Don't you have work to do?" Charlotte sighed, leaning against the counter.

They'd moved to a house closer to the center of town, seeing as wolves had made it inside Gabe's house twice now, nearly taking Charlotte's life with them both times. It was smaller, and less lived in. It seemed . . . stale.

"I am doing work." Gabe responded, tilting his head to the side to regard her. "Am I bothering you?"

"Yes." He frowned. "You've got about a thousand guys watching this house and the perimeter, Gabe. You're watching me as though I'm the enemy, and suddenly I'll turn into a wolf and bite into my own neck."

He grimaced, and sat up straighter in his chair. "I'm restless. I can't leave you alone, not even if you asked me to. I— inside, the—the beast, he can't leave."

Feeling foolish now, Charlotte dropped her arms and moved around the counter, feeling a burning tug in her chest demanding contact with him, demanding a connection.

He turned in his chair so Charlotte could step between his legs and lean in, resting her cheek on his chest. His hands came up almost instantly, cupping the back of her head, kneading the muscles at the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry, I know you're worried."

He was silent fora long moment. "I should be the one who's sorry."

She pulled back and met his blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a strand of orange hair and pulled it from her face, brushing his thumb over a freckled cheek as he went. "I had though that— I mean, my entire life, even when I was a child, I'd always believed that-well-" he let out a huge breath, frustrated he couldn't find the right words. "I thought the wandering of the beasts was . . . normal. Natural. It was for our sanity and our survival and was agreed by both of our ancestors. But . . . it doesn't seem right anymore."

Her eyebrows came together in confusion. "Shouldn't I be the one making you feel bad about this?"

He let out another monstrous sigh. "And you would be, if you hadn't bit me. Your mind would be more clear. Remember how furious you were when I first brought you here?"

"You saved my life." she pointed out.

"And I should have brought you back afterwards."

She shook her head in exasperation and took a step back. "I don't understand where this is coming from."

"This is coming from the fact that you were safe your entire life until I brought you here. Now suddenly you grandfather is free, and is coming after you. Do you not find that a little suspicious?"

She took another step back, feeling a burn in her calf where an angry red line remained from the claw mark. Her head hurt, trying to think clearly. Was it just because of her bite that she felt this way, felt so clouded from her own thoughts? Why didn't she miss her mother, the one who thought she was dead, the one who Charlotte had thought would hear her last words over the phone while she bled out in the remains of her car. Why didn't she miss her twerp of a brother, her brute of dad, her dog for crying out loud? Why did she feel . . . nothing?

She rubbed at her temples, growling at herself. "What's happening to me?"

Gabe paused for a moment before answering. "You're body and mind are readjusting. You relied on family and past connection in your life and now . . . now you're body just needs me."