A Cold Wind Blows (Forgotten series, #3)

Chapter 7

He was cocky and unbearable. Both were traits of an Alpha so it didn't surprise me. It did, however, irritate me and my wolf. We didn't particularly care for males, Alpha Males were worse and Alpha Males that were bound to us never had a good start in our book.

I flipped a dagger in my hand carefully. If I touched the blade it would burn my fingers, I could only catch it by the grip. It didn't stop me from deliberately catching it by the blade. The silver would singe my fingertips right before I would toss it into the air once more. Each flare of pain was something that I enjoyed as it sharped my world into focus.

He had rules for me.

Rules.

Not to mention he had taken the liberties of trying to feed me as if I were a pup incapable of doing so myself. Not a bit of my food hadn't been touched by him and it had put me off eating. My wolf and I were quite disgruntled and disgusted by the gesture. We knew it was something mates did but the extent he did it for me made me want to bare my teeth and snap them at him. We didn't need to be fed like a toddler, we were more than capable of doing providing for ourselves.

The man acted as if he were our father, even though our father never once treated us as such. They were similar, I had to admit it. My father had been a fairly large shifter as well. Broad shoulders and thick arms that used to carry me and my siblings around as if our weight was nothing. I had inherited everything but his size from him.

My mother was a petite woman, like I was, but she had brown hair that was almost auburn at times with warm brown eyes. My father was like me, golden hair and eyes so dark they bordered on black. So dark you could never truly tell what the base colour was. I used to think his gaze held the secrets of the universe, that the depths of the knowledge rested in his gaze and to an extent it had. Love was more than prevalent in his eyes and looking back that was the only secret his gaze held as he watched his children play.

It was getting hard to remember them. For nothing but the fact I could barely remember what they looked like, what they sounded like. I had been taken by Milo when I was sixteen, I had thought I had been rebellious to run off with my mate. It would have been better to simply stay with my family. I was a foolish and naive young girl. Damascus had taken advantage of that.

It didn't matter now, I was fairly certain Damascus had told them I was dead and to a point I was. The girl who had run away from home to what she believed to be her new life, was dead. The Sol Warriors killed her so if he stated to my family that I was dead, he wasn't exactly wrong. I flipped the knife again, catching it by the grip before tossing it again. I didn't wish to put them through the pain of having to see me like I was. A hollowed, empty shell that housed what remained of their daughter, their sister. I wasn't that cruel.

My wolf flicked her ears, she could hear movement from inside the house but there had been movement since lunch time. We were currently listening for a heavier set of steps that would indicate the large Alpha was coming out to bother us more. I rolled the knife between my fingers, ignoring the red burns on my fingertips that flared with pain at being touched. He was an irritation that was slowly siding towards the line on the list that I doubted he wanted to cross.

He was large but I could probably take him down. It would take me down as well but my mouth twitched when I realized it would be more than worth it. My wolf paced in the back of my head, she was restless, agitated it was taking as long as it was. I didn't blame her, we didn't like lingering in one place for long. It made a person lose focus, made them feel comfortable, allowed them to put their guards down.

The door opened and there was a whispering of feet on wood and a faint scent of honey and flowers. I glanced from the corner of my eyes and Maricella moved closer, her bare feet scuffing against the boards. She was attempting to be sneaky, it was amusing to both me and my wolf. I flipped the knife high and turned, snapping my teeth in her direction. She gave a startled screech, her eyes wide as she pressed her hand to her chest. I caught the knife quickly as it came down from the arc it was in and she burst into peels of laughter. My mouth tugged into a smirk without my consent. We liked the little wolf.