Loving The Beast

Chapter 25. Home Sweet Home

Bradley

After Kinsley came home she hasn't spoken a word to me since the dungeons. She won't even let me touch her or kiss her, no skin contact whatsoever. I could only do that stuff when she's asleep. I want to ask what's wrong but packwork has been keeping me busy.

About time I finish, she's sleeping and I have to leave before she wakes up so I can finish the work from yesterday. Some days I wish I could take some time off but I can't.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and what sucks the most is that it's getting hard for me not to mark her lately. What she wears to bed and the way she comes out of the bathroom in a towel with water dripping down her tan body. I had to calm down I was getting excited. I started working on pack work again to get my mind off Kinsley. I try to push those thoughts away, refocus, and dive back into pack work. Anything to distract me, to get my mind off of Kinsley and all the things I can't have... not yet

Kinsley

Boys are so irritating! I can't stand it! I don't understand why it has to be me. Out of all the girls in the world, why was I the one chosen for this life? My heart hurts. It physically hurts, knowing that Bradley would keep such a huge secret from me. It's like I don't even know who he is anymore. I just don't understand why he couldn't have told me. Why couldn't he have trusted me with the truth?

While Bradley was buried in work, I found myself retreating to the library on the third floor, trying to make sense of everything. I spent hours reading about the Queen and King, about their long-lost daughter—apparently, that was supposed to be me. I was taken when I was five years old, and every year, on my birthday, they would take a vow of silence in my honor, believing I was dead. Other kingdoms would even travel thousands of miles every year on my birthday to honor me by giving presents to the Queen and King on my behalf. It was all so surreal and completely overwhelming. What happened to my parents? Why would they steal me? If I was the actual lost princess? And if I was so important, why didn't Bradley tell me sooner? I kept asking myself these questions, but no answers came. It didn't make sense. The more I learned, the more confused I became, and the more hurt I felt

My thoughts were abruptly cut off by a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Bradley walked in and shut the door softly behind him. His footsteps were quiet as he approached the bed and sat down next to me. He gently cupped my face with one hand, rubbing his thumb along my cheek. His touch sent a wave of warmth through me, but I couldn't let it get to me. I grabbed his hand and placed it on his knee, pulling away. He looked at me with a sad expression, his eyes searching mine for any sign of warmth.

"Kinsley, I know you're not talking to me for some reason I don't understand, but tonight... I'm introducing you to the pack. You need to be ready by eight."

I waved my hand dismissively, not wanting to engage. His words stung more than I expected. He sighed heavily, standing up. He was about to leave when he paused at the door, looking back at me one last time.

"And my parents are going to be there, so be on your best behavior and talk to me," he added, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and hope like he was begging me to let him in.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I said, annoyed. 

He was fully facing me now, his gaze intense as he waited for some kind of response.

"Don't snap at me. I'm your mate, and you will not disrespect me!"

I stood up from the bed, moving a few feet away from him. I was so tired of this game—he knew exactly why I was angry, why I couldn't look at him the same way anymore.

"And I wish you weren't!" I spat, the words leaving my mouth before I could even stop them.

I saw the pain flash in his eyes, and for a brief moment, guilt washed over me. But the pain quickly turned into something darker—anger—and before I could react, he slammed me into the wall. The sharp sting in my arms and back shot through me, but I refused to show him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me.

He growled, his body tense with fury.

"YOU ARE MINE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! MINE!"

He pinned my hands above my head, his breath heavy. His eyes were completely black, but I wasn't scared. I had seen that darkness in him before.

"If I'm yours, then why are you keeping things from me?" I bit back, my voice trembling with frustration.

"NO, OF COURSE NOT!"

"OH YEAH? THEN WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME THAT MY PARENTS—MY REAL PARENTS— ARE THE QUEEN AND KING?!"

The rage in his eyes slowly disappeared his features softening as his brown eyes returned to their usual warmth. It wasn't until then that I realized I was crying, the tears streaking down my face. He reached up and wiped away my tears, but I quickly pulled my hand away from his, still staying close.

"Kinsley, I—"

"How long have you known?" I interrupted, my voice cracking.

He sighed, and the silence between us became so loud. The uncertainty in his eyes made my anger flare even more. I stared at him, my hands balled into fists at my sides.

"HOW LONG?!" I screamed, my voice breaking.

"Two months."

"Two months?!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You knew for two months, and you didn't tell me? How could you do that? I would've told you—no matter how much I knew it was going to hurt you! Because I also knew you'd be okay since I would've been right there by your side!"

"Kinsley, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I just didn't know how."

He wrapped his arms around me, and I wanted to push him away. Mentally, I was screaming at myself to do it, but physically, I just missed the warmth of his touch.

"Kinsley, I'm so—"

"Just get out," I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady.

"Kinsley, please—"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.

He paused, his eyes filled with regret, and let me go. He leaned in to kiss my temple, but I slid down the wall, avoiding his touch. He sighed heavily, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered an apology before leaving.

I curled up on the floor, the darkness swallowing me whole.

Eventually, I pulled myself off the floor and ran a warm bubble bath, trying to escape the chaos in my mind. As I sank into the soothing water, I let Sam Smith's Good Thing  fill the silence, letting the music drown out everything else for a while.

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