Beyond and Wild

Chapter 10

Dylan Pov

Whatever I did was wrong. Completely wrong. 

How could I have done that? 

The question tormented me, its echoes reverberating through my mind with relentless, suffocating intensity.

Sitting at my desk, I raked a hand through my hair, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I could still see the scene in my mind's eye—the moment I grabbed Aderyn by the neck. My grip had been firm, not enough to hurt her, but enough to remind both of us of my control. But it was still wrong. So profoundly wrong.

The weight of my actions settled heavily on my chest. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes against the onslaught of guilt. I had let my anger get the better of me, accusing her of hiding something during that phone call. Her tone, the secrecy—it had all triggered something primal inside me. But that didn't justify my behavior. Nothing could.

I jerked upright, the memory too much to bear. The papers on my desk flew to the floor as I stood, frustration and regret mingling into a toxic brew inside me. I paced to the window, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, and stared out at the spring landscape. The trees were shedding their leaves, a constant reminder of the cyclical nature of life. 

How could I hope for renewal when I was the one causing destruction?

My thoughts were interrupted by a movement outside. Aderyn was walking towards the forest, her silhouette barely visible in the twilight. My wolf stirred within me, urging me to follow her, to ensure she was safe. 

But this time, it wasn't just my wolf's instinct driving me—it was my heart.

Without thinking, I found myself moving, my feet carrying me out of the house and into the forest. The sound of a twig snapping underfoot betrayed my presence, and Aderyn stopped, turning to face me. Her eyes were wary, the hurt from our earlier confrontation still evident.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

"Just wanted to go for a walk," I replied, the lie sounding hollow even to my own ears.

She eyed me skeptically, clearly ready to launch into a tirade. Not giving her the chance, I walked past her, keeping my eyes forward. "How long are you planning to stand there?" I called over my shoulder.

I heard her mutter something under her breath, likely an insult, but to my surprise, she followed. We walked in silence, the tension between us palpable. I wanted to speak, to ask if she was alright, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, we maintained a fragile truce, walking side by side yet worlds apart.

After what felt like hours, we returned to the house. Aderyn headed to her room without a word, and I went to mine, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.

In the sanctuary of my room, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping the water would wash away the remnants of the day's events. But the guilt clung to me, refusing to be rinsed away. Clean but no less burdened, I changed into comfortable clothes and lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

My thoughts drifted to Aderyn. Her defiance, her vulnerability—they were all tangled up in my mind. I couldn't stop picturing her face, the way she looked at me with a mix of hurt and confusion. Why did I feel like she was hiding something?

Rolling onto my side, I propped my head on my hand, lost in thought. "Aderyn," I whispered, savoring the way her name felt on my tongue. It was a beautiful name, fitting for someone as enigmatic as she was. I wondered about her family, her past. Why had she never spoken of them?

"Doesn't her family search for her?" I mused aloud. The question nagged at me, pulling me from my bed and towards her room.

I stopped outside her door, cursing myself for my impulsiveness. What was I doing? 

But the need to see her, to make sure she was alright, overpowered my rational thoughts. I opened the door without knocking, the room's darkness swallowing me whole.

Switching on the light, I found her lying in bed, her face peaceful in sleep but marred by a sheen of sweat on her forehead. My heart clenched as I realized she was having a nightmare. Her breathing was rapid, her heartbeat erratic.

My eyes fell on a small bottle on her bedside table. Frowning, I picked it up and read the label. Sleeping pills. "Why do you need these?" I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me.

Her uneven breathing smoothed out as I gently touched the bruises on her neck. The contact sent a jolt through me, the mate bond amplifying the sensation. Her skin was soft, and as my fingers traced the marks, I wished I could erase them, erase the pain I had caused.

She relaxed under my touch, her breathing evening out. The bond was soothing her, calming her restless mind. I pulled the duvet over her, my heart heavy with regret. 

"I'm so sorry, Aderyn," I murmured, knowing she couldn't hear me but needing to say it nonetheless.

Turning off the light, I left her room, the question still gnawing at me: Why did she need sleeping pills? The thought plagued me as I made my way back to my room. Lying in bed, I struggled to find sleep, my mind a whirlwind of guilt and unanswered questions.

The path to redemption was a long one, filled with obstacles and uncertainties. But for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope. I was determined to make things right, to be the mate she deserved. Even if it meant facing my own demons and confronting the darkness within.

Wait what am I even talking about?

Then realization hit me and I shot up on my bed.

It shocked me. Something dawned on me. This wasn't me. Why did I think of her all of a sudden? I was never like this. I didn't care nor did I expect a mate or a companion in any situation. But here we are. She is a human. And I can't shake this connection. It's like she has become a part of me, a part I can't ignore.