Dark Times

Chapter Twenty-Six

That night marked the first night in a while that I'd slept without my back against another's. Under my scratchy quilts, I felt the absence of his warmth and the lack of his lulling heartbeat. I knew he was only a couple doors down, and I could go down anytime I liked- but my pride wouldn't let me.

It was a fact. If I traipsed down that corridor and knocked on his door, all I'd have to do was tell him I couldn't sleep and he'd take me into his arms, carry me to his bed and tuck me against his chest. That would be that. For the night, he'd act like the last twenty-four hours had never happened. Like I hadn't replaced the docility for cold bitchery.

But I didn't. I didn't knock on his door. I didn't leave my room. My pride wouldn't let me.

Pride, independence and a stubborn will that told me I didn't need him. I didn't need a mate to help me sleep at night. I could manage just fine on my own.

However, I did find myself waltzing over to my travel bag, in which a tiny little ring box was hidden. I opened it, sat crossed legged on the end of my bed and stared down at the ring with mixed emotions. Apparently, it was mine. Passed from generation to generation in his family.

I didn't deserve it.

I flung it away, hoping it'd catch dust somewhere on my bedside table.

I forced myself to sleep, keeping my eyes closed and my body motionless until the arms of sleep grabbed me.

In the morning, that was weird too. I'd gotten used to waking up under the canopy of trees. To see a ceiling again would take some getting used to. But I welcomed the feeling of my black spandex suits. One way to tell people not to fuck with you was to look like the assassin who'd been hired to kill them. It worked every time.

As I was stashing daggers into my boots, I heard the quiet but unmistakable sound of breathing nearby. My body tensed before my mind made the connection.

In his pack house, he'd spent his night outside of my door, protecting me when there was nothing to protect me from. I didn't know why I'd think a very dangerous place with threats lurking in every shadow would change anything. The Alpha had spent his night- once again- playing my silent guard outside. And he'd stay out there unless I opted to invite him in.

I was a horrible person. A bitch to the core.

I waited till he left to leave the room. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to explain myself.

Maybe later, but not today.

Not today- because for a second- I felt bad. And I never- as in never ever never- felt bad.

Keeping my head high, I marched through the halls with a purpose. People nodded at me or they didn't look at me at all. Word had gotten out that I was still the exact same Lorelei I'd been all those months ago when I'd left to go do 'rebellious' shit. Yesterday, they'd seen me mercilessly kick a she-wolf in the face. I'd since heard someone say I broke her nose and shattered her jawbone. Apparently, if I'd kicked her any harder, her head would have gone back so far I'd have snapped her neck.

I didn't know what'd gotten into me, in all honesty. The plan was to be cold, not violent. But then she'd touched him and-

It wasn't important. I hurt people all the time. I'd never stopped to consider it before.

I shouldn't start now.

Outside was the usual hustle and bustle found at any rogue base, where everyone knew each other but no one knew each other's secrets.

Secrets were a dangerous thing.

"Lorrie!" Someone shouted for me. A taller version of Peter that annoyed me the tiniest bit less. "Are you coming over?"