EMPIRE

11. Constrictions

Roman leads me into the kitchen, he hasn't uttered a word since we left my bedroom. I swallow and try to calm my wildly beating heart. That particular organ has been under incredible stress in the last couple of days, if I were to be human I would have undoubtedly gone into a cardiac arrest ages ago.

My eyes drift back up to trace Roman's figure, inhaling deeply as I do so. I watch as his frame moves agilely through the hallways and down the stairs, not one noise comes from his sneakers. Even when he isn't in a battle or an on-guard situation, his body has been trained to remain silent and in a predatory condition at all times. I try not to think of what the outcome would be should we engage each other in a physical fight.

I refrain from letting out a squeak as he stops moving, steering my body away from colliding with his broad back. I walk further into the kitchen, subconsciously placing myself next to the knife rack.

Roman's eyes scan over my face before drifting to look at the blades lining the wall behind me. His gaze flickers back to meet mine, emotionless but highly aware of his surroundings and of me.

"Accalia." My name slips from his lips smoothly, akin to silk, but a firm undertone makes me flinch slightly. His eyes narrow fractionally at the movement, I avoid questioning how he managed to catch my miniscule action.

"Yes?" I respond, keeping my tone low and steady. He inhales lightly before leaning his shoulder against the entry's frame. Guarding it.

"You are my Mate," he says, as if I hadn't realised this earlier. I refuse to allow my discomfort to show but my stomach churns internally at the situation being voiced aloud. I keep a neutral expression.

"I'm aware," I reply, proud of the stability my voice holds. A small tick goes off in his jaw, a sign of irritation and stress.

"Then you are also 'aware' that you will be coming back with me to serve as Luna in the Blood Rite pack." Roman watches my face carefully but his own is set in stone. I push my hands behind my back subtly to hide their shaking. Serve as Luna. A sentence, a punishment for some unknown horrible deed I had committed to anger the Moon Goddess.

"Yes, next week I am to return with you to your pack," I acknowledge, the words leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Thank the Goddess for whoever it was that made the '1 Week Law'. When a Wolf finds their Mate in the neighbouring pack, he must allow her to remain in her former pack for a week before taking her back to her own. Unless she gives special exemption to this Law, he must abide by this rule whether he wants to or not.

Roman clenches his jaw, looking down at the floor for a brief second before speaking, "it it our pack now, no longer just mine. And we will be leaving tomorrow morning."

My jaw drops in response and I blurt the first word that comes to mind.

"No."

Roman stares, mouth set into a thin line and his eyes holding a burning rage. His jaw clenches and he inhales deeply before pushing off of the wall he had previously been leaning against.

"What did you just say?" He questions, his tone low and quiet. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I square my shoulders. I force my gaze to remain level with his, refusing to show just how much I'm trembling on the inside.

"'No,'" I repeat, through gritted teeth. "I said 'no.'"

Alpha Dreycov straightens his stance and his height extends upwards to reach the 6'4 mark. His shoulders roll as his hands turn into threatening, clenched fists.

I can only try to resist the urge to shrink backwards, I must stay strong on this decision.

"You will do as I say, fetiță," Roman growls, his eyes flashing an emerald green hue for a split second. My fear drops in an instant and defiant fire rushes through my veins as a replacement, no doubt a temporary one.