NICHOLAS (old version)

chapter two: mark

He didn't move, and neither did I.

We stood there, staring at one another, waiting for the other to do something, to say something. He seemed to realize that I had no intentions of moving from my spot, my feet anchored to the ground, so he began to move through the crowd. As soon as he began moving, the parade stopped and seemed to watch.

Nicholas was twenty-six. He'd gone eight years unmated; everyone sort of assumed that she'd died, or he'd never find her. But he had. I just happened to be a child the entire time, a juvenile.

"No!" A shriek tore out of my mothers throat and she tore herself away from Tyler, grabbing me by the shoulders and slamming my body against the house. I hit the window and went straight through, the glass shattering and stabbing me all over like a billion tiny needles. I screamed, the pain overtaking me.

I wasn't sure what happened, but a fight seemed to break out - it took a few seconds for me to realize that it was Nicholas fighting to get to me, and my family fighting to keep me away from him. I wanted to get up and help my family. But the animal within me only though about Nicholas, about whether he was alright, about how he was surely alright - so big and strong, he could take on our entire army on his own. And he had.

But I couldn't move. I sat there, frozen and conflicted, unsure what to do. Finally, people began to rush forward, men from the parade restraining my family, members of my own pack swarming me, asking if I was alright, trying to help me up. I sat frozen, unable to think, to react. All I could think about was how fucked I was, about the stories I'd heard of Nicholas. He wasn't kind, he wasn't loving. He wouldn't carry me off into the sunset.

He was a sociopath. He'd killed hundreds, thousands even. He let juveniles fight. He kidnapped the mates of his men. He was a bad man, and I didn't want anything to do with him. But what choice did I have? No female got a choice. He'd take me and carry me away from the sunset and into his darkness.

When my mother and sister were properly retrained by several of his pack members, Nicholas turned to me, and I felt my entire body grow warm, my heart speeding up. The glass fell to the ground with a hundred tiny clatters, my body pushing the shards out to heal around them. 

He dropped to a crouch in front of me, just a few inches from me, his breathe warming the air around me. He smelled like maple trees and honey, like breakfast on a Sunday morning. His face wasn't as harsh as it seemed from a distance, his skin light and his hair a dark contrast. There was something terribly charming about him, his broad features, his black eyes. I watched them, intrigued as they seemed to shift from hard to soft and then back to hard. He was hiding his concern.

"Can you stand?" He asked finally, standing himself and offering a hand for help.

I scrabbled to my feet, resisting the urge to take his hand, and nodded, though the answer was now obvious.

He gave a nod of approval and cleared his throat, taking a step toward me, his teeth beginning to elongate. I took a step back. Rolling his eyes, he looked at me as though I was stupid. "Stop backing away, I need to mark you before we head back. Get it out of the way, you can heal and we can properly enjoy the eveni-"

"No." I said immediately, cutting him off. I half expected him to scold me for refusing, and half for cutting him off. He did neither, just stared at me, bewildered.

"Excuse me?" He said, glancing me over before a snort escaped his mouth. I struggled not to focus on how funny it was, a man this size, this fierce, snorting. "That wasn't a question. You're my mate and I'm going to mark you. Otherwise, some asshole might think you're not mine and I'll have to kill one of my warriors for so much as looking at what's mine. Save us some drama and stand still."