Page 12 of Aine

I change the subject. “Did you say anything about me?”

Olivia shakes her head. “I did say you’d help her to the bathroom while she’s still healing.”

I frown, annoyed she’s made such a promise on my behalf. I’d like to spend as little time as possible around my mate. It will make my people happy to see me taking care of her, though. My chest expands as I suck in a slow breath, annoyed with the entire situation.

“Anything else I should know?”

“No. That’s it.”

I nod and turn to leave. It’s not the information I wanted, but it’s better than nothing. My mate’s eyes are back on me the second I enter my room, and I catch myself instinctively turning to look out the window at her.

She sits in her chair peering over the window ledge, and I turn away before she can register I’m aware of her gaze. I’m glad Olivia and Jenna took care of her today, giving me the space I need to clear my head. I’m on edge after seeing her so torn up in the woods, her body mangled and broken, and I probably wouldn’t have had the strength to leave her in the cabin had I spent one more minute near her.

I don’t want her, and it’s only a matter of time before my beast realizes his mistake and agrees to take another.

Chapter Five

AINE

I’m practically hangingout of my chair by the time the sun rises, my body slumped pathetically over the armrest.

My shorts stick to my body in the places where the pee hasn’t yet dried, my skin itchy and, I’m assuming, rashy. The pungent smell vanished sometime during the night, although I’m certain it’s just a product of my nose getting used to the scent.

I’m sure whoever comes to get me will no doubt be ambushed by the unpleasant air.

Glancing at my hands, I let out a small sigh as I evaluate the blood all around my nails, the skin having been anxiously picked off throughout the long night.

Another shiver rakes through my body as a particularly large gust of wind rattles the cabin, shaking both the door and window as it seeps through the cracks into the small room. The cold air feels almost painful against the parts of my body that are still wet, and I rub my hands against them in a sad attempt to warm up.

I poke at the stitches on my thigh before returning my attention to Damien’s house. He ended up being my entertainment for the night, the man seemingly having had as much trouble sleeping as I did. The lights were constantly flickering on and off as he moved around his home.

At some point in the early morning, he seemed to have given up on sleep and left his bedroom for a room on the first floor, the light now having been on for a few hours. Occasionally, I’ll see his large frame move around behind the curtains, but other than that, the house is still.

I watch as he paces back and forth, his movements quick, before the light turns off altogether. Oh? Where’s he going now? My guesses are almost always wrong, but it’s an effective way to keep my mind occupied and away from my soiled clothing.

My lips purse when I can’t find him, and I lean forward to try to get a better view. Still nothing, and in a fit of desperation, I place my hand against my seat and push up slightly. It hurts, and I drop with a panicked squeak when the front door opens and Damien steps out.

My movements are frantic as I duck below the windowsill, my heart racing as his eyes lock with mine just moments before I disappear underneath the ledge. I can feel my hands shake as I grab on to the wheels and roll myself away from the glass, short, anxious puffs falling from my lips at the exertion.

Is he coming over? I do my best to mentally prepare as I fidget with the metal frame of the chair, tracing the shape of it in an attempt to calm my racing heart. Snapping twigs and leaves answer that question for me, and I tighten my grip on the wheel of my chair as I fight back tears.

Damien rips open the door and steps inside with a frown, his body taking up most of the doorway.

His nose crinkles as he turns to me, a look of disgust spreading across his face as his gaze drops to my soiled pants. Despite my attempts to keep them back, tears begin to spill, my puffy eyes doing a poor job at hiding my emotions as the liquid streaks down my cheeks.

“You pissed yourself?” His voice is cold, his question more of a statement as he steps further into the room.

“I tried to go outside,” I say, wiping away the large tears that roll down my skin.

Damien only grunts in response, giving me another onceover before approaching and grabbing the handles of my chair. I spin to watch him, not trusting his motives.

“What’re you doing?” I squeak, gripping the armrests as he begins pushing me in the direction of the door.

“I need to take you to breakfast. It’s tradition,” he says, wheeling me roughly over the doorway.

It hurts, and I wince as my body jostles in the seat. “I thought the tradition was dinner?”

Damien doesn’t acknowledge my question, and the silence between us quickly grows long and uncomfortable. I expected Jenna or his assistant to get me today and had mentally prepared for the shame of facing one of them.

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