The air is heavy with my dread, making it almost too thick to breathe.
Especially with my mateâs hand squeezing my shoulder, his thumb pressing in under my collarbone. Although it doesnât hurt, I understand his meaning clearly.
âI asked, where have you been?â Malachi growls at me again when I take too long to answer. âAnd who were you with? I can smell his scent all over you.â
An extra wave of fear engulfs me as I look into Malachiâs dark eyes, dotted with dancing red embers. I know the type of risk a jealous mate poses to another male, especially if itâs a jealous Alpha mate. Theyâre strength can be magnificent when fueled by fiery possession.
I try and tell him he has nothing to worry about though. âItâit was just a boyââ
âDonât lie to me!â Malachi leans into my face and snarls, and I flinch. Squeezing my eyes shut, an involuntary whimper escapes my throat.
Suddenly Malachi steps back from me, leaving a rush of cold air between us.
When I open my eyes, his gaze is to the floor, a frown creasing his forehead.
Then he looks up. âSorry about that,â he says with a smile. All trace of darkness is gone, leaving me to stare into those crystal blue eyes I admire so much.
âWhatâ Excuse me?â I fumble for words, the air rushing from my lungs as I exhale shakily.
âSorry, I was just practicing my scary face,â he says after a momentâs hesitation, as if he was debating something in his mind while I stand here, still pressed up against the wall, my heart on lockdown and all my shields up.
âYour scary face,â I say it flatly, still having no clue what is going on.
âYes, for when Iâm negotiating with other packs. And for intimidating them,â he shrugs his shoulders like itâs the most normal situation in the world, and brushes his fringe back with steady fingers. âIâm sorry for scaring you like that. I didnât know youâd take it so seriously.â
I look away and take a few deep breaths, not wanting to admit that I was scared of him. My mate. Heâd never hurt me, right?
âYou know Iâd never hurt you, Ariella?â
I snap my eyes to his. Itâs almost like he read my mind. But with his mark gracing my neck, maybe he does have some stronger connection to me than I realise. I nod and force a smile, my mind brimming with so many questions and not much idea where to start.
When I donât say anything, Malachi grimaces. âAgain, Iâm sorry,â he whispers and takes my hands between his. They are so warm and gentle around my cold ones, and my breath catches in my throat when the sparks tingle up my arms. âLetâs, uhh, letâs get a drink or something. I was on my way to the kitchen for some food. You want a snack?â he asks in a soft voice, so different to his harsh and throaty growl from before.
I let him lead me down the hall, still trying to figure him out and what just happened, yet feeling reassured by his calm behaviour now. He is always gentle with me, even if distant.
I sink to a bar stool at the kitchen bench, and observe my mate. He moves fluidly to the freezer and pulls out a container before getting two bowls from the cupboard.
Setting it all in front of me, along with two spoons, he asks, âDo you want some ice cream? You do like salted caramel ice cream, right?â
âYes of course, seeing as Iâm the one who bought it.â I reach for the tub and begin scooping some out.
âYou bought this? When?â
I look at Malachi, puzzled. âWhen I went shopping the other day.â
âWho with?â His eyes hold mine steadily, a dark shadow creeping out from the irises.
âBeta Knight. He was kind enough to take me.â I watch him carefully, the ice cream on my spoon momentarily forgotten.
âAnd you didnât inform me?â His brows slash together and he frowns at me, a sternness once more lacing his tone.
Again, I am so confused by his behaviour. âUh, I didnât know I had to. I mean, we needed more foodââ
âHarlow could haveââ
âWill you forget Harlow!â I slam my hand down, every cell in me reacting to the mention of the blonde shewolf whoâd had her hand practically caressing my mateâs knee last night by the fire. More than once today it crossed my mind that perhaps Malachi had spent his night absent from me and with her instead. âI live here, I do my own shopping, I can look after the food and what we buy and have for meals. Why all the questions? What on Earth does Harlow have to do with any of this? And why does it matter to you when I go out and when I do things with the other pack members? Why canât I spend time with Beta Knight, and Guard Jasper and his son Sammy? Yes, you smelt a male on meâ a little pup who was stuck up a tree who I then helped down and then made some dinner for him because his poor mother is dead and his dad wonât let him talk about her. What is wrong with any of that? Tell me what is your problem, and Iâllââ
My frustrated ramblings are cut off as Malachi grips my hands and tugs me to him. I fall into his chest and he envelops in a tight hug. For a moment we just stand like that, hearts beating against each other, veins throbbing beneath our skin as if even our blood can sense the proximity of its soulmate.
I am calm.
For a moment, this is all I need. This closeness and understanding with my mate.
No words, no fears or misunderstandings, just him and I in each otherâs arms.
âThe ice cream is melting,â Malachiâs warm chuckle vibrates between us and he pulls away, leaving me colder than the milky ice crystals in the tub.
We sit down and smile at each other, but I canât ignore the awkward atmosphere that settles over us.
âThis is really good,â he murmurs, and itâs as if he is trying too hard to make this normal. He is clearly hiding something. âMmm, I havenât had ice cream this good sinceââ
âYouâre acting strange, you know that? Even for you, and thatâs saying something, because it seems everyone around here is strange,â I blurt out, sick of this, of avoiding the issues between us. Whatever calm was between us is once more gone.
He sucks in a breath and gives me a sharp look. âItâs just been a long day, you know?â
âNo, I wouldnât know. You ditched me last night, and werenât even around this morning. You didnât come see me all day, so I have no idea whatâs going on with you or your long day.â I finally let out my frustrations. I donât care if my tone of voice is harsh, or if my hands slap the bench top like Iâm angry, or if I tug on my hair like Iâm turning mad. Maybe I am.
Malachi stands and comes to me, kneeling beside me and taking my hands in his again. The stern expression slides off his face as my words sink in. He looks away and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. âYouâre right. Iâm sorry for reacting like this.â He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. When he looks at me again, his eyes are soft and his gaze languid. âIâm glad youâre making friends, and finding your way around here. Iâm sorry for leaving you to make your own way. Iâm sorry for getting angry with you when none of this is your fault. Iâm sorry ⦠Iâm sorry for all these apologies. It seems all Iâve done tonight is upset you. I donât ⦠I donât want that.â His eyes hold mine in a steady gaze, almost with a look of pleading in them.
âNeither do I. I donât want to argue, Malachi. But it seems we donât even talk. We donât even spend much time together as friends. I want to get to know my mate, but youâre always away, or busy, or working here or there.â
âIâve let you come with me. Weâve spent time togetherââ
âYes, but.. But not quality time.â I do remember the number of days Iâve spent in his office while he works, but itâs not the same as just spending time together. Talking, listening, doing nice things with my mate like everyone else does. I know who the Alpha is, but I want to know who Malachi is. The other half of my soul who seems intent on hiding in the shadows.
âYouâre right. Youâre absolutely right. Letâs start over and try to do this properly? But if Iâm honest, Ariella..â He says my name so tenderly, my heart flips. âIâve never really seen a good relationship between mates. Iâm not sure I know how to do thisâ¦â
âThatâs okay. Weâll figure it out together,â I smile reassuringly as he gets up to sit beside me.
Malachi rakes his hand through his hair, then spends a moment to pat it down to a neat messiness. His movements are measured and graceful, entrancing me.
âSo, what is your favourite colour?â he turns to face me, our knees bumping each other.
My mind canât think straight for a brief second.
Cerulean blue, like your eyes.
âUmm, itâs blush pink. Like peonies.â
A faint smile tugs on his lips. âAnd like your hair.â
âYes, like my hair,â I chuckle and bite my lower lip, still self-conscious of the colours in my hair. Iâve seen the looks people give me, like Iâm such a child, playing dress ups with unicorns.
But here, in Malachiâs presence where he is looking at me with such tenderness, I brush it off and feel more confident than I have in years. âAnd yours?â
âI would say black, but everyone always responds with âthatâs not a colourâ, so I think forest green is my favourite now.â
I nod, âYeah, black is the absence of light. And that colour green I love too. A beautiful emerald jade that is so calming.â
âYes, calm. Thatâs it. It reminds me of just being one with creation, like our bodies and souls meld together. Amongst nature, we can understand our Creator in a way we never can when weâre stuck inside, cased in bureaucracy, opinions and beliefs, and stuffy nonsense. Itâs enough to drive you mad!â
I understand this much about him. He loves his territory, the land and mountains that are his dominion. The grasses and wildflowers that bloom with beauty. They are his escape, his remedy to surviving all the crazy around him.
And Iâm the same. Nature comforts me, and never judges me like everyone else. It embraces me in its strength and beauty when so much of the world is dirty and cruel. It also keeps me sane, keeps me from going mad.
âWe should go on camping trips and mountain treks together,â I muse aloud.
âIâd love that,â Malachi agrees with a glimmer in his blue eyes, and my heart shudders with a thrill of excitement.
âSo whatâs your favourite food?â Itâs my turn to ask.
âThat would have to be spinach and feta cheese pastries. My mom makes them for special occasions and they are the best.â
âLuna Seneca cooks? I never would have imagined it!â
My mate chuckles, âI guess thereâs lots about her you donât know. Sheâs pretty amazing when she lets you know it.â Malachi has a contented smile on his face, and I can tell he cares about his mother despite her being so cold and indifferent whenever Iâve seen her. I tell myself she just doesnât trust me enough to share her true self with me.
âSo what about you? Whatâs your favourite dish?â Malachi prods.
I donât need long to think. âThere is this really delicious cake my mom used to make. Not Lexi, but my real mom. So obviously I havenât had it in years, not since I was practically a baby before she was killed. I almost forget the real flavour, but when I try to make it myself, it never seems right.â I tilt my head and reimagine the scent and taste in my mind, the happy laughter of my mom and dad as they cook meals in the kitchen together, the fireplace flames flickering in the background, casting a warm glow on the scene. They were so joyful, especially when I kept hearing the whispered word baby, and I knew a little pup would soon be joining our family.
âWhat kind of cake was it?â Malachi asks in a soft voice as he watches me with undivided attention.
âRosewater and almond persian cake. My mom, Aliyah, grew the roses in our garden, and she would make a fresh syrup with the petals to drizzle over the cake. She must have had a secret ingredient though, because I just cannot get mine to taste the same.â
âThat sounds amazing. Iâm sure youâd be very good at making it yourself. Maybe it only tastes different because you miss your real parents.â
âTrue,â I shrug, the memories still lingering and causing my eyes to grow misty. I blink back the tears before Malachi can see them, and keep going with our question game. âSo where do you see yourself in five years?â I ask, spooning some more ice cream into my bowl.
Malachi hesitates, his smile faltering, but only for a brief second. Then he grins at me. âWith you. By my side, always.â
âHmmâ¦â I murmur, buying myself time to gather my thoughts and process his enigmatic response. âThatâs nice, but it sounds cliche. It also sounds like the kind of answer youâd give if you wanted to hide something.â
His eyebrows go up before he quickly wipes the surprise away. âWhy would you think that? What could I be hiding from you?â
âOh, any number of things.â Itâs my turn to shrug and act nonchalant.
Like why your mother thinks Iâm cursing her. Or how your dad died. Or about that girl in all the photos with you.
So many questions. So many reasons to not trust this mysterious Alpha sitting so close beside me, I can hear the blood pulsing in his veins and the increase in tempo of his heart.
So many times I wonder why I donât have the courage to ask him.
âWell, I guess we all have our secrets that we donât want to share. Our own personal demons that are too messy to just let anyone see. But that doesnât mean I donât ever want to let you in, Ariella. Youâre my mate, and I want us to be close. One day, I want you to know my heart as well as you know your own, and still have you look in my eyes and love me.â
As he speaks, I sink further and further into the ocean blue depths of his eyes, losing myself in the rhythm of his heart beat and the magical bindings of his words as they weave about me.
âI will.â I will look in these perfect eyes of my mate and know that I will always love him.
No matter what.
Without thinking any further, I lean forward into his lap and wrap my hands around his neck. Bringing my body close to his, I press my lips against his own and let the sparks of electricity rip through me.
His arms tighten around me and his lips move against mine, kissing me deeply and stealing every molecule of oxygen from my lungs. The warmth I feel all over again, like Iâm drowning and Malachi is my very breath. He breathes into me, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and causing my entire body to light up. I feel like lightning has seared my heart before reshaping it.
These feelings he is awakening in me are so strange and foreign, yet I realise I canât get enough of them. I donât even know how to kiss him properly, I just let him move his lips in time to mine, yet it feels so perfect. Like a symphony weâve been composing for this very moment.
All too soon, that moment ends, as Malachi clasps my shoulders to push me back and put space between us. And the final notes of our symphony fade with his heat still tingling on my lips. I shiver, from the absence of him.
âAriella.â His voice is deep and strangled. âWe shouldnât.â
âWhy not?â I whisper back, eyes still closed, hands still gripping the collar of his shirt.
âBecause⦠we just canât.â He pries my hands away and moved to tidy up the bench, putting the bowls in the sink and ice cream in the freezer while I remain stuck to my chair, watching him in an entranced daze.
âThatâs not a reason,â I hear myself mumble when he takes my hand again and leads me out. I donât recognise my own husky voice, and Iâm surprised I can even string more than two words together. Our kiss has shaken me to the very bones in such an incredible way, but this isnât how I imagined it would end. With him denying me again.
âItâs the best I can give right now. Untilâ¦â
âUntil what?â I pull my hand from his and stop in the middle of the hall. We are on our way to our room, but I want to talk about this now.
He throws me a stern look. âUntil you fully decide to be mine. I donât want to push you or become too attached physically when thereâs so much more involved.â
âOkay, yeah, you said I could decide if I really wanted to be your mate forever. So what if I have decided? What if I want to mark you to finally claim you as mine?â
âYou can, just not nowââ
âThen when? I know weâve planned to give this a good shot and spend more time together, so why do you still push me away?â
âThis is different, Ariella!â He clenches his jaw, frustrated probably that Iâm not seeing this from his point of view. I might actually be able to if he would tell me what that is. âA kiss and cuddles and whatever else you want to do are entirely different to talking and spending time together, or bushwalking or whatever. We can do that. But not this, not yetâ¦â he rubs a hand down his face, as if rubbing at all the stress and only smearing it further.
âThen when? Just tell me what is going on that makes this so hard between us? Why are you keeping me at a distance, Malachi?â
He narrows his eyes on me, a dark blue that is deep as stormy oceans and I can see heâs making a decision to tell me something.
âHamilton and I think we know who killed Archie, and the other warriors. We think weâve found the killer.â
Hi beautiful Readers â¥ï¸
I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
Thank you all for the support on my story, your votes and comments are what keep me going, as well as my love for writing! You all give me purpose and an audience to appreciate these random stories of my imagination :)
Have a lovely Friday,
Kiana Rose ð¹â¥ï¸