A quiet whine leaves my lips, I don't control it. I can't. Not when the spot on my neck burns like flammes, not when my stomach twist in a familiar feeling. The same as when I was too many floors up or leaning on a banister. Only now can I place it, lust.
It's his body's turn to recoil as if I was the one who bit or burned. I can't support my weight without his hands, so I slip down, side pressed against the door. One hand flies to my stomach to fight the feeling, the other around my legs to build a new barrier. I'm too feverish to consider it might be useless.
In the corner of my eye I catch it, the look of guilt, shame and want. Far from quenched need. He soon mimics my fall, except he's more graceful than I was, back against the bed, sat on the floor and legs stretched. When he catches my glare he's quick to draw his knees like mine, hides his face behind his arms.
I wonder what else he's trying to hide.
Something turns in my stomach, I wipe my neck and face, sweaty and feverish. I try to calm down, the cold offered by the door helps.
« What happened at the parliament? » after a few minutes I manage to gather my thoughts.
I think of the lieutenant and the boys. The bomb and the meeting. I don't let dread fill me, hope for the best instead. He doesn't immediately answer, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.
« Are you mute or something? » I spit the sentence, aggravated by his silence and slow answers. I didn't think it could be possible for wolves to have a handicap.
He growls, flexing fingers and curling them into fist at his side. They soon relax but his legs stay curled up against him, lips pursed.
The fever goes down a bit and my stomach settles. Only a slight heat remains, but it's not enough to keep me warm in the freezing room. He doesn't seem bothered by the cold one bit, wolves and their damn resistance.
He gets up suddenly and in a flash that makes me blink, he drops a sweater by my feet. When I look right I notice a wardrobe open, doors left ajar. I don't dwell on it and put it on, I don't need to be sick if I want to leave this place.
By the time I put it on, zipping it up fully, the feeling in my stomach has completely disappeared, only my neck remains warm. When I look back up, he's back in position legs outstretched this time, fingers furiously tipping on his phone. I'm surprised the phone doesn't break with how fast he's tipping. Is he writing a damn novel?
« Hey, answer me. » I nudge his foot with mine.
He looks back up, but soon is back on his phone, erasing this time. I nudge his foot again, a bit harsher this time. He nudges it back, but I don't want to fall into this game with him, I hit him one last time before drawing my leg back, out of his reach. I can't help the smirk blooming on my face when I see him blindly trying to find my foot.
He frowns and locks his jaw when he notices. He eventually throws the phone, gently at my feet. I don't waste time and pick it up, hide my face behind my knees, he cranes his neck.
« Humans bombed parliament. Took you. » it's simple and forward, but lacking key information. I'm surprised there are so little words with the time it took him.
« What about the soldiers there? Did you see any hurt or » I clutch the phone, I can't finish my sentence. I remember he needs it, so I slide it on the wood floor.
This time he's fast, I don't even have time to bite my nails.
« Not check. » it's simple again.
It's frustrating and I keep the phone in hand. But I understand why he wouldn't. He was busy with me. I keep the phone and ponder my next question, my next move.
« Is there anyway to check ? Could you call there ? » don't slide the phone yet. I have to start bargaining, to gain his trust. If I ask too much, he'll push two steps back.
When I do, he picks it up slowly, but doesn't type. The solemn look in his eyes takes me aback a little, but I don't look away. He nods once and when my eyes open in surprise he nods again. Ok, that's good.
He stays on his phone again, typing and erasing. I stretch my legs that start to feel heavy. When I don't draw them back, he mimic my position, legs stretching to graze mine. Does touching bring him confort ?
He has to bend a bit to push the phone towards me, but his face is different, expecting. I take it with caution.
« You understand mates? » his English is definitely terrible, but I don't speak a word of wolf either. They kept their language secret.
I decide to be honest.
« I don't know much. Bits and pieces. » I try not to open the call app, not to call the base with the phone in hand. I remember escaping will not be easy, I put it down and slide it again.
He doesn't pick it up, raises his brows.
« I know about mates being other halfs of the soul. Wolves will die without them. That's about it. » I continue, dig in my memory, but the wolves have kept all information about them secret.
« Why don't you talk? » I ask again, while he's going for the phone between us.
He freezes for a second, but picks it up anyway.
« Pressure / power ? » he doesn't seem to know the word. Wolf pressure from the voice is real but I haven't felt even the simple pressure of his being in the room. So even when I am supposedly his mate, I'm still chained down by pressure ? This sucks.
He nudges my foot and when I raise my head, his face is pouty. He may try to sympathize but pressure just means I can't go agains him. I sigh, let my head drop, fuck this is frustrating. At least he doesn't seem too aggressive.
I need an escape plan and a good one at that.
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hi, let me know if you spot errors in language :)
YOU ARE READING
Night Alpha
WerewolfMarshal did not think much of wolves, until he wakes up in bed with one. When wolves declared war on unsuspecting humans, they were quick to annihilate them. The survivors live in secluded cities, surrounded by walls. Detroit has survived and 20 yea...
