by Roxanne Lee
I shook my head at him and followed him inside, the dogs padding behind us. I thought on that blonde beta turned Alpha, his presence could only bring more trouble for me. I wasn't overly concerned, one Alpha was much the same as any other. Conceited, self important, arrogant. His wolf could push and growl and demand as much as he liked, it would not change the outcome, if he insisted on standing in my way I would mow him down to stay on track. One insignificant Alpha would be no distraction from my chosen path.
Chapter 17.
Carver returned sometime near dawn. I heard him enter the house as if he were right next to me. I had a bad feeling about what that meant, maybe that the bond was strengthening, becoming some living, breathing thing. Perhaps refocusing my attention, not on the path I'd chosen but on the one fate had decided for me. Somewhere within I'd been waiting for him, listening out for his heavy footsteps and that worried me.
I sat up from the soft bed I was laying in, not sleeping just waiting, and stared at the closed door as his steps brought him nearer. His heavy tread stopped just outside and a hand tapped once on the wooden barrier.
"Arya, come downstairs to the kitchen. We have to talk." His gravelly voice was harsher this morning, a night spent as a wolf bringing that animal out further in human form, the essence of the beast closer to the surface.
I answered with a soft spoken, "okay." It's not like I could avoid the conversation and maybe he deserved a little more than what I had given him last night.
I showered in the bathroom across the hall, it was as tasteful as every other room I'd seen so far. There were products lining the shelves, a huge collection of soaps and shampoos that were predominantly feminine. More hard evidence of the future he'd built.
I dressed quickly, finding Jeans and a jumper that were similar to what I'd worn nearly every day so far. The bags full of clothes still on the floor where I'd left them, a symbol of my lack of investment.
I joined him at the kitchen table, a giant eight seater in dark wood and cream cushions. Crafted perfectly, just like the rest of the house. The smell of coffee was heavy in the air and a mug had been placed in front of an empty seat next to him, an invitation and an expectation.
He looked good this morning, a little mix of wild and fresh. His hair still wet from a shower, those dark strands curling slightly over his ears and a trace of wolf still visible beneath his skin. Muscles more prominent and jaw and cheekbones more angled and contoured. I was again struck by my seeming fortune, maybe he was supposed to be a peace offering, fate attempting to rectify all that she had done.
I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, those black eyes an endless abyss of need, a bottomless pit of contravention. It was an odd sensation that I could not identify.
I took a sip of the coffee and hummed in appreciation, so much better than Sam’s. His big rough hand touched the cup I had put down and ran a finger over the rim where my lips had been. A little rumble came from deep in his chest, his own appreciation of an intimacy that I could stand, one without contact.
Those eyes flashed to meet my gaze, "I've come to a conclusion, Arya."
I waited expectantly as he ran his eyes over me while I tried to remain completely unaffected.
"I've decided we are going to spend every day together as much as possible. I've seen you with Sam, you allow his touch as does your wolf." He leaned back against the chair, spreading out his limbs, that bulk just taking up more room, widening until all I could see was him. "Eventually you will allow mine as well."
I was caught up in the sizeable mass that he was, so much so that I didn't take much notice of his words until that last sentence. I snapped quickly out of my small trance state and leaned further away from him."I'm confused. I thought I made myself quite clear last night."
He learned forward invading my space, "And I am making myself clear right now. You're mine Arya, I don't think you quite understand that yet."
I understood. I just didn't want it. My wolf stirred inside me, not liking the ownership of that statement. I didn't like it either. I'd been owned, I'd been a slave to a master of misery. "Oh I'm well aware wolf." I could not help that sneer, "I know what ownership is, I know what you want from me. Will you take it? Force my consent because you believe in your right of possession? Sam doesn't want anything from me, Sam doesn't think he can rewrite the past with a few touches that make my skin crawl and an order that makes my wolf want to mutilate."
And so with those words everything changed.
The Captain didn't need a story, he needed just a few words to see the memories that sullied me. To realise the depth of my tarnished soul.
Like stars falling from the sky, once lit in brilliance only to be inked in darkness, understanding poured over his face until a deadened, lifeless expression replaced the calm, focused one. Now he understood.
His coal eyes raged with fire beneath the ebony and claws burst from his fingertips. His husky voice deepened still, as he became more wolf than man."Who Arya? TELL ME!..."he roared a command and claws scraped gouges in the polished dark table,"... I'll rip the flesh from their BONES!" His words were forced out through lengthened fangs, a shout through heavy breaths, his claws hung onto that table for dear life, the man hanging onto what little control he had left.
My wolf came snarling through, a deep malicious roar in Carvers face. "NO! He's mine....mine to bleed, mine to rip apart." she seethed just below the skin, possessive over a kill she had yet to conquer.
Carver roared, a monstrous expression of anger and futility. He had no person in front of him to destroy, no enemy to savage, and so he savaged the room. I sat in my chair, my wolf slowly receding as we both watched this man destroy what he had so painstakingly built. The kitchen counters, the shelves full of little ornaments, the cupboards and everything within. The table was ripped away from me and thrown at the wall, every chair but the one I sat on joined the table in its pile of demolition. I saw the wolf flicker over Carvers face, trying to take full control and release his wrath on furniture still standing. But the man had his own fury to expend and fought every push and shove for dominion.
In the end they seemed to come to some sort of agreement, half man half wolf remained to destroy the residue.
When the dust settled, Carver stood with his back to me, heaving in breaths in the centre of the wasteland of a kitchen. The silence was deafening in its unaddressed subject. He slowly turned to face me, the claws returned to their sheaths, his wolf giving up his half for the moment. He walked the six feet of distance between us and dropped to his knees in front of my chair. He reached out a hand as if to touch but hesitated and dropped both fists to the floor.
The imagery of the great Captain bowing at my feet was not lost on me. Something I never thought I'd see, an Alpha pleading to a lone wolf. A warrior bending before a servant.
"I'm sorry, Arya."
I don't know why he asked for forgiveness, he wasn't at fault. His guilty face protested otherwise but he would not take the blame for something he had no command over. "No others fault but his and those who allowed it, do not apologise for his actions."
He lay his head on my knee and I jumped at the contact. Surprisingly my wolf was rather silent, she seemed a bit confused by Carver at the moment, her reaction to his position quizzical. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." His whisper I felt to my stomach. An ache for the man he was back then, the woman I could have been lost to the woman I became.
My gaze locked on his black hair spread slightly over my knees where his head rested, his face turned to the side, his eyes lost to me. I raised a trembling hand, I could touch his hair, just once. Reach out and lay my hand on that sable head, it was an easy thing to do and yet my hand shook anyway.
And then it became less about how hard a simple touch had become for me and more about taking back a little of that control that I had so easily given away. About how I never said his name because maybe it made it less of a nightmare and more the reality of a man who should have been a father and instead ruine
d the young girl I had been. I could stop giving him so much power in a name that meant so little and as a result reduce the fear that hid behind a violent wolf.
His name was Daniel.
I'll take those pieces of me back that he stole, and I'll polish them till they shine once again. All those little pieces whole and shimmering, diamond dust replacing coal. I'll remove the subjugation and suppression and choose who to give those parts to. Maybe I'll give some more of myself to Sam or the two mastiffs. Or maybe I'll give one tiny piece to Carver, the man laying his head on my knees asking forgiveness for a wrong he never committed. I'll listen to Sam and put a little faith in the knowledge that he won't break what I've given him.
My hand finally came down on his head, the tingle created by the two of us together instantly made itself known. His hair was soft and thick and I ran my hand in the fullness, relishing the feeling of touch that felt good.
I let him stay there, his head on my legs, my hand in his hair. Giving comfort to a man so strong who had been made so debilitated by understanding my reluctance.
I gave him a little piece of me. Put trust in fortune and faith in a providence that had failed me so many times.
Chapter 18.
"Well, there go anotha' kitchen.....Any more furniture ya wanna kill this mornin' or ya done?"
Sam’s voice cut through the silence that had befallen us. I had stayed seated, with Carver on the floor in front of me, until we heard movement from upstairs. I assumed Sam had heard the chaos of the room being destroyed but wisely stayed away until now. When the soft footsteps had reached the hallway, followed by padding paws, I'd stood up letting go of Carver's hair and went to try and rescue the coffee machine.
Carver growled low at Sam’s comment and followed me, he stood inches away while I filled the water tank. As the glass pot was somewhere among the detritus, I found somewhat intact mugs to catch the brewing coffee. Carver moved when I moved and stopped when I stopped, for such a large man he was remarkably fluid in motion. I looked at him quizzically but he only stared straight faced, I assumed his wolf was pushing him to remain close. I'd allow him this small thing.
"Dun go growlin' at me Captain, you tha one keep smashin' up importan' stuff.." Sam peered around the counter, "... Better no' have broken my damn whiskey."
Sam’s grumbling continued for a good ten minutes, I left him to it while I stood catching hot coffee and patting Remy’s large head that he kept shoving into my hand. I think the soft beast had missed my cot last night too, he'd been thwarted from his usual night-time antics by a lock on my new bedroom door.
I handed out mugs and leaned against a broken cabinet. Sam sat in the remaining chair and the dogs lay behind him on the only available floor space not taken up by vandalised furniture.
I felt raw. Like I'd been opened and scrubbed clean and put back together with a fragility that was easily collapsible. I'd built up my hardened shell over years, yet it took just one conversation to shatter the illusion of durability. I was the same girl I'd been last night, just with more obvious defects.
"So, we gettin' breakfast wit' tha rest of them guards?"
Carver's voice was a rough version of his normal huskiness, "Yes, they serve in the main hall at eight. I'll get a call out for the damage and it should be fixed this week."
He took my empty mug from my hand and placed it in what remained of the sink. I kept becoming oddly side-tracked by certain parts of him; the huge hand that covered mine from view when he'd reached towards me, his black eyes that seemed to swallow me whole whenever he looked my way, the vast chest that took over my view whenever I looked straight ahead rather than up at his great height. I felt small standing beside him, a pixie next to a giant. It was both empowering having him at my side and somewhat invalidating, like his very aura overwhelmed and extinguished mine.
"Come on we'll leave now, it'd be good to show your faces, there are still some who don't realise who you are yet."
Sam chuckled,"Yeah, already had a run in wit' new Alpha Alex. He no' too happy wit' ya girl ova there."
Carver snarled and fine hair sprouted over the back of his hands, sharp points poked through his fingertips, claws under the skin as his wolf pushed for possession. His control over his emotions was seriously lacking after this morning. I found myself unconsciously reaching out and lightly touching his hand, a movement Carver stilled and stared in something akin to awe at. I furrowed my brow in response, someone should tell him there was nothing to admire in me, everything I am is covered in a layer of filth; all that polishing a beautiful thought in progress.
My touch produced marvellous results in calming his temperamental beast, whether through the actual touch or pure surprise I wasn't sure. I caught a full grin on Sam’s face and glared in his direction, it did nothing but make that grin bigger.
I huffed and started for the door, leaving the two to smirk at each other. The morning had Autumns crisp and fresh feel, that rebirth after summers end. I started towards the smell drifting through the air of cooked food and heard Carver rapidly move to catch up with me. I had a feeling he would not be letting me out of his sight for a while yet.
The main hall was located behind the farmhouse, a decent sized plot of land separating the two buildings. I narrowed my senses to just my hearing and managed to pick up the sounds of several men talking and laughing together, cutlery against crockery and the hiss of steam from cooking. I liked these advancements in sense I had gained, it was like having lived a life underwater and only now coming up for air. My sight, my sense of smell, even my already good hearing had improved, I'd missed a lot without my wolf these past years.
I made it to the solid oak, wooden doors of the main hall slightly in front of Carver and waited for Sam and the dogs to catch up. He picked up a strand of my hair and twisted it around his finger. "You'll not move away from me in there right cherry? I don't think my wolf will like it right now and I don't want to kill my guards, I like most of them."
I sighed...more nicknames, was it really that hard to just call me Arya? "I'll go where I want and you'll just have to follow me, right Captain?"
His little scowl was worth the tug on my hair.
We entered the hall together, Carver leading and hiding me from view behind his solid frame. I peeked out around his arm as we came to several tables and the low rumble of voices quietened to almost silent.
I was interested in meeting these men. Men that could have been Alphas in their own right, and yet pledged allegiance to the Crown and followed this man. Still followed this man, even after half a century of abolishing the monarchy through death and abdication.
These men had fought for kings. Their brothers in arms had died for sovereignty, and now they're ruled by governors of narrow mindedness. They fight less for freedom and free reign and more for political and powers gain. These men conquer their own species, overthrow Alphas, vanquish opposition. I had wondered why they follow, maybe I would finally have my answer.
As Carver moved to the side to introduce me I looked at three similarly built men. Tall, broad and hardened, a true example of battle seasoned veterans. Dressed entirely in black, a uniform it seems for these men, they portrayed an image of exactly what they were; formidable, menacing warriors.
The first had a mop of auburn hair, rough weathered skin and an expression of cheekiness that fit oddly with the rest of his appearance. He was ever the Scottish highlander in werewolf form.
Carver nodded at him as he waved a hand in his direction, "Arya, this is Duncan."
The red head smiled at me and waved cheerily,"Nice ta meet ya, Lass."
It seemed his appearance was correctly judged, he had a lingering Scottish accent, a small lilt on his words like he'd been gone from home too many years to keep that broad dialect.
The second was blonde, a much darker complexion than Duncan, though that wasn't difficult with how pale the Scotsman was. A nice summer tan that was only more obvious with the light blonde hair. He was more reserved, a nod in
acknowledgement to Carvers introduction of, "Lane."
The third I remembered seeing before. The second in command was almost as broad as Carver, though shorter by a good few inches. His light brown hair was a messy, dishevelled mass that stuck up in chucks of uncontrollable waves. His eyes, a deep brown that were as close to chocolate as I'd ever seen, were in constant movement, not once settling on any one thing in the room. Despite his harried countenance he was remarkably soft spoken with a calm energy that ebbed and flowed around the room. He introduced himself as "Charlie," in an entrancing tone that had me staring long after he'd flicked his gaze to several other points in the hall.
I felt Sam at my side and turned to see him grinning at the three men.
"Lane, good ta see ya boy, still as cheerful as eva' I see."
The blonde grunted at Sam and he chuckled back at him, "yeah, missed you too blondie."
I quirked a brow at Sam as he sat down opposite the guards. I was starting to think he left out important information on purpose, like the fact that he was obviously well acquainted with them already.
Sam caught my look and the worst attempt I'd ever seen at feigning innocence fell over his face. I rolled my eyes and took a seat next to him, pulling Remy over to put between myself and reaching distance of the men in front of me. The capacity for violence they exuded was intriguing to my wolf, I felt her peek out in interest, those gold glinted eyes searching and weighing their worth. She was once again overestimating herself, the crazed beast had no chance against these three.
A girl around my age glided over, arms full of plates piled high with food. She gracefully emptied her load onto the table to grateful noises by all the men. Duncan threw a wink her way and her porcelain skin blushed bright red as she walked away as quickly as possible without it quite being a run. Carver pulled a plate of sausages and eggs from the centre of the table and placed it in front of me, before grabbing his own and passing cutlery into my hand. It felt awfully like he was feeding me, yet I said nothing and ate when he prompted. Just one more piece I was giving him.