Wolf Blood

|7| Wolf Blood, the will to belong

I felt him before I saw him —his presence familiarly irritating.

The nightmare had left me raw and tired. I couldn't find the courage to attempt sleep again. So I laid awake looking at the candlelight, feeling lonesome in the empty gloom. I was glad for his arrival, though I would never admit it. He had unwillingly become the symbol of my freedom —irritating or not.

The door swung open, soundless, and he stepped in. He cleared his throat, announcing his entry and glanced around. It was his place, what did he need to look around for?

I kept my eyes on the candlelight, deliberately ignoring him though every ounce of my being was attuned to his presence that seemed to fill the once empty room. It enclosed me a safe, warm energy that I pretended not to like.

"Your continued disrespect will not go unpunished here. Do not push me." His quiet voice was enough to convey the threat.

My body hummed in response to hearing and I cursed internally —stupid, stupid hormones betraying me. Pulling my gaze from the light, I turned to him, the flickering flame reflecting in his eyes. "I apologize, Your Highness, you entered without knocking so I thought to demonstrate how a lapse in respect feels —annoying isn't it?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

His dark brows knitted together —annoyance, a tic in his clenched jaw as he watched me. I finally managed to pull my eyes from his face to scrutinize the rest of him. And then I noticed the tray of food in his hands. The steaming hot tray of food. The delicious-smelling tray of food.

The Alpha of Wolf Blood, Dmitri Arkadin, had brought me food.

My stomach chose that moment to voice its disapproval at my insulting the harbinger of salvation, and I blinked in embarrassment. I would not accept it. Even I had my pride.

But he stepped closer and the aroma of freshly cooked pot roast and potatoes wafted to my nostrils. I could tell it was well-seasoned. I would not accept it, I repeated, grasping desperately to the shreds of resolve I still had. A smirk twisted the corner of his mouth up and he walked forward, stopping only till he was standing right in front of me. My willpower was evaporating with the steam rising from the tray. His smirk grew more pronounced and he leaned over, bringing his face a few inches from mine. His breath fanned my face and I forgot to think. I gulped, audibly, to my shame, and took a good look at his eyes —molten gold that took my breath away— even as amusement swam in them, mocking me. "You're drooling. Just take the food before you make a bigger fool of yourself." He chuckled, his unexpected remark, smacking me awake. He was laughing at me, the bastard. The damn thing was, I wasn't sure if I was drooling because of the food or because he was so damn close to me.

I scowled and took the tray from him with a nod of thanks. He was silent as I ate, and I was grateful. I took deliberate small bites, the memory of my grandfather still fresh in my mind. Whether Dmitri knew that this was the first wholesome meal I'd had in a long time, I was unsure.

"Thank you," I said, finished and sincere, to his motionless form that had taken to standing sentinel at the door, unnerving me with his unwavering stares.

He acknowledged with an incline of his head. "My people and I took a lot of risks to get you here in one piece," he said, his serious face telling me that he was in Alpha mode.

"Javed isn't quite sure you're worth it and is currently lobbying for me to throw you out on your ass to save us the trouble of three meals a day." I stared at him slack-jawed as he stated this, something inside me rearing up in anger at the way he was speaking.

"You have two choices —put the bitchiness away and prove yourself or I give Javed free reign."

"And you?" I ground out, only to be met by a questioning stare. "Do you not think it was worth it?" I repeated —confused as to why it mattered to me and why I was so angry it didn't to him.