Never Alone ✔

Chapter [2]

She awoke the next morning to the warm sun shining through the curtains and onto her face and the sound of birds chirping off in the distance.

With great annoyance, Zara flipped over onto her stomach and planted her face into the pillow, groaning.

"Morning beautiful." A familiar voice whispered, which even though she was annoyed, her lips still managed to twitch upwards into a small smile at the sound of her mate.

"Morning." Her voice came back muffled from the warmth of the pillow that continued to hide her face.

He chuckled pressing his lips to her forehead making sparks- no, fireworks, tingle across her forehead. Her smile turned a bit bigger.

"I'm going to go fetch you some cloths." Leaving no time for argument, he jumped out of the bed, and slipped his jeans on over his boxers while Zara checked him out shamelessly and then he quickly dashed out of the room.

Sighing, she pressed her feet onto the floor and padded into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her just in case someone gets any ideas. As soon as te door was shut Blake's shirt comes off her fragile body.

Slowly, she turned to the long mirror that reached from floor to ceiling. Disgust and hatred bloomed in her eyes as she looked herself up and down in shame. Scars of all shapes and sizes were marked onto her skin, from whips to knifes to burn marks from herself being burned across the fires, You name it, it's there. Not being able to look at herself any longer, she turned away from the mirror a small tear slipping down her cheek but she ignored it as she turned the water in the shower to its hottest setting and jumping into the warmth.

After a good, long, ten minute shower she shut the shower off and messily dried her body and hair as quickly as she could in hopes that Blake wouldn't mind how long she was taking.

Zara finished drying off and was about to reach over to the small table next to the sink to grab her clothes but she almost screamed in frustration at what she saw, or perhaps what she didn't see. No clothes lay out on table. She must've forgotten to wait for Blake so she could be maybe, not be naked?

With great fear, she opened the door to the bedroom and peeked through with much hesitation. Not seeing Blake and sight and the clothes- skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, a bra, underwear, and black chuck converse- laid out on the bed making Zara sigh in relief and then quickly run into the bedroom with the towel still tightly wrapped around herself.

Quickly putting the outfit on, she scurried out of the room not wanting to wait for Blake. She followed his scent of apples to a kitchen with a few pack members littered about.

When she entered the room, it was like something went off in their heads and everyone became silent and threw her some curious, yet judgmental, stares.

It's probably because they've never seen me in the pack before. Zara told herself in an attempt to calm herself down, all the judgement made her feel like she was suffocating.

She ignored the stares as best as she could let herself and stroud over to her mate, watching with curious eyes as he cooked. Whatever it was, it smelt almost as amazing as himself.

"What you making?" She asked, closing her eyes for a brief moment to take a deep whiff of his cooking.

Everyone turned back to what they were doing, as if nothing happened at all.

"French toast." Blake replied in hope Zara liked it. He kept his entire focus on the task acting like he was cooking for a Queen. He was. His Queen.