Mated

Thirty-two

"We have to talk about it." James and I were back in the bedroom.

"That coming from the person who avoids any emotional dilemma?" I muttered. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around myself.

"Malia–" His guarded expression flashed in irritation. "You aren't this cold."

"I might be. I think I'm doing a very good job at it, today."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have let you see it."

I reared on him at that. "Remember that time you spoke so low of my father because he kept things from his pack? Like the Rogues for instance? And now you wish you could have done the same? Such a hypocrite you are."

"I mean, I wouldn't have let you see the devastation, Luna. It was a massacre." When he said it, calling me his 'Luna', my irritation toward him wavered. Just a tiny bit. His face was hard and angry, his stance rigid and he stood close. It seems this entire thing had changed something in James as well. Maybe he wasn't scared like me. But he was clearly unsettled.

"I had to see it." The scent of burnt flesh resurfaced as if it was stuck to my clothing, to my skin. And I needed to scrub it off me.

He sighed. Ran a hand down his face, his jaw tightening. My green-eyed Alpha was clearly haunted by the devastation that had become of my compound. It gave me a new appreciation for him. He wished he could protect me from the heartache but it was impossible. My family was murdered, burned alive. My home was nothing but a heap of ashes.

"Let me hear it," he snapped, finally locking his gaze on me. "Your plan to throw yourself to the rabid wolves."

I swallowed. It was as if he knew what I was thinking. What I had already planned. Perhaps he did have an idea on what I came up with and just needed to hear it out loud.

I uncrossed my arms and stood tall. "I'm going to let them come to me. I will let them take me to Sephiran's body." James nodded briskly, his nostrils flaring just slightly. It was what he'd expected.

"Malia—"

"I know. You don't want me to but I will. If it's any consolation, I won't let them take me without a good fight. Without killing as many of those feral bastards I can."

The faintest ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

"If I can get to him then maybe..." my breath caught in my throat at the thought of being anywhere near the obdurate diabolical Rogue who was responsible for the deaths of my ancestors. The person responsible for the endless war between Hunters and Werewolves. "Maybe I'll stand a better chance at administering him the cure." That is, if I couldn't kill him first.

"Chance?" James' eyes flared. "You're playing the game of chance?"

"What other choice is there! They will only keep coming after me. The Hunters too. Who knows how many other Corts are out there looking for me right now? It's the best plan unless...I kill myself." I didn't mean it. I didn't even know why I said it. But it was out of my mouth quicker than I realized I'd even considered it.

Suddenly James was right in front of me. His palms shot up to grip the sides of my face and tilt my head back to look at him. He was much taller than my average frame. His eyes scoured my face, pink lips parted.

"I can't let anything happen to you."

His statement took me back to my first time in his bedroom. That night I went up to his room after putting up with his coldness and I challenged him with the option for me to stay or leave. I can't have you leave, he'd said.