Got Your Tail (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Twenty Five

[Castus's POV]

I stared down at Sven's sleeping body as it lay wrapped up in towels on the bed. Dammit he gave me the scare of my life. I found him wading about in the bath, completely out of it, his nose just above the foamy water.

It was an awkward process to finish washing and drying Sven. Possibly the biggest challenge of all was getting him back out of the tub. I mean he ways little more than a cuddly toy but his being in a bath made things difficult.

Initially I was panicking because Sven wasn't responding even in the slightest to my washing him, that would have woken me, shit that would have woken me with one hell of an erection.

I did manage it of course however only at the peril of my jeans, I'd had to dunk one leg in the bath to safely pull him into my arms.

I was happy towelling him down, that might sound strange. Sven would occasionally perk up with some small moans or sighs as I diligently cared for him, he did not fight me, he did not pull away, I was in heaven. If anything he would lean towards me and even though I was aware he wasn't fully awake occasionally his eyelashes would flutter open and look at me for maybe a second and even then I saw no hatred in those sleepy, tired eyes.

And yes sure, the perverseness of the situation may have approached my more sensitive inclinations however I was sheltered under the guise of a good deed.

I laid out a towel on the pillow for him as I peeled off my wet trousers and socks.

I did dry his hair but it's long now, nearly reaching his shoulders. When I lay out his body and turn to tuck him into the cover I see something that catches my eye.

On his wrist there is a line, it's hard to see but nevertheless it was there. The pale white line that over-crosses a mesh of other smaller lines.

Had he been cutting?

Because of me?

I felt a pang in my chest as though someone had put a vice hold on my heart. Something tight was wrapped around it and I could feel the physical ache of it tugging at me. A lump collected in my throat as I traced the scar. It was thick enough to scar, visible enough that it must have been a deep cut.

Could I have lost him?

Years of battling with my parents and myself and my fate and I could have lost him somewhere along the way...

The thought terrified me. Made me never want to take my eyes off of him, made me want to keep him by my side at all times and... apologise every day.

Suddenly I was drawn out of my calm serene dream of caring for my sweet mate, to the ever crushing guilt that trampled on my heart.

Maybe I was ready to look after him now but was he ready to be looked after by me? Was I the toxic pillar in his life that would forever be a negative influence on him? I still had to wonder what would my role be...

I wanted to be his alpha, his mate, the one he ran to and who he wanted to cuddle with when he was scared or afraid. I wanted him to look for me when he needed something and smile when he saw me looking at him from across the room. I wanted him to feel my touch and feel calmer the same way I did with his. I wanted him to be submissive to me and feel my hold over him and feel secure and undefeatable because of it.

Was it all too late?

I had resolved to find him, I had so many plans to chase him down but in the mean time, when I trained, when I fought with my family, when I tried to gain everything I never had just so I could go over to him and make him fall at my feet. Of course, it wouldn't work that way, because in truth all it was was procrastination. I didn't want to face what I had done to him, done to my mate, abandoned him, screamed at him, humiliated him.

I was the reason he left.

I was the reason he hurt.

If I convinced myself I just needed to complete one more task before I chased him down... I would have one more day to pretend my mate was a ten minute walk away, waiting to hold me in his arms and forgive me. That was the thought that both haunted me and motivated me to work harder.

But seeing the evidence of what I had done, not just the rejection, not just the humiliation, the fucking scars that I had directly been the cause of... it was hard to justify any of the work I had done, hard to justify waiting so long and taking time all just to set up a new pack, all so that I could feel more secure and come back to him able to posture and tell him how stable and strong I was. A man worthy of his affection and redemption.

It didn't work like that. I should have ran after him the day I swallowed my pride and accepted I was at fault. But like an immature pup I had let emotions take over, my need to have him want me and accept me. My need to have some semblance of submission even if it didn't mean he was gazing adoringly at me in the morning.

I shouldn't be thinking this. I should push those thoughts out of my mind. Now that truly felt I had a chance, felt calmer and more in control.

If I couldn't pretend nothing ever happened how could he?

No.

Either way he knew what happened I couldn't rewrite history by pretending two years don't exist. He knew and he probably thought about it every day. Thought about how much he hated me and wanted to get away from me. Wanted to find someone else who was better for him but was trapped because Luna had bound him to me despite my rejection, despite his accepting my rejection.

He would always be looking for a way out.

Those words sent a wave of terror rushing through my mind, I felt as though I desperately needed to wake him up, make him submit to me, make him promise to stay. I needed to see his softer side accept me, the softer side of his human and not just his wolf.

These thoughts rushed through my head like a flurry of birds and moved on.

Be quiet. I told myself.

I pulled the cover over his body and switched the light off.

I climbed into the bed but there was something hollow in my chest. I wanted to smother him, cover him, show him how warm I was, make him need me by his side in his bed.

But I didn't feel like I deserved it.

I closed my eyes.

What if he never trusts me again? What if he goes back to the boy he slept with? What if he doesn't love you? What if he's only here because you forced him to stay?

I opened my eyes.

My hands came up to my throat, trying to hold them down, it never worked but I always tried.

I am focusing so hard.

No.

Please, no.

It's been so long and I'm stronger now, less emotional now.

But I can't stop, there is a stone in my throat as the first pail of tears stream down my cheeks.

I am most careful to make no sound as I stare on into the darkness, it could have represented room for dreams, now it just represented the hole in my chest, the absence of hope, the swelling numbness.

I do not look at Sven, I hope he cannot sense me crying.

I should be happy that he is even here by my side, maybe even slightly willingly, but instead I'm feeling more broken than ever. He will never love you, and it's all your fault.