Page 35 of Ruthless Alpha
If only it were so simple.
Chapter 16 - Rosie
I’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, and it was still only midday. My skin itched; the ceiling was too low; the walls were closing in. I had to get out.
I could go to the backyard and run a familiar circuit around its edge, sticking close to the tall pines that ringed the area, but it was only different from the house because the air was fresher and I could feel the nip of the cold breeze. It would do nothing to soothe the buzzing beneath my skin.
My wolf didn’t understand. She’d been howling for our mate all day, hating to be separated so soon, and I understood her distress. I missed Xander when he was gone, and often found myself glancing out of windows, half hoping to see him return early despite my coldness. Unfortunately, that was the whole problem. Iwantedto be Xander’s mate. I wanted to stay with him, to have his children and grow old with him—but being his mate meant staying on this wretched island. It meant growing old here and raising my children here; the thought sent a chill down my spine.
I could barely speak to Xander when he returned to the house that evening. The kiss he pressed to my forehead was tender, and I had to flee from him the second it was over. Tears were stinging my eyes, and at least in the kitchen, I had the excuse of onions.
Dinner was stilted and awkward, with Jace pulling the majority of the conversational weight. I felt Xander’s eyes on me the whole evening, even as I refused his questions and dodged away from his touch. Every rejection caused a fresh flash of pain to cross his face, and I didn’t need a claiming bite to feel that pain as if it were my own. How could I tell him that I wanted tobe with him, but not his Pack? How could we be together, mates or not, if I couldn’t stand to be on his island? It was my misery or his destruction.
Only once darkness fell did I fold. I retreated to my own bedroom despite the anguish evident in Xander’s expression, but once there, I couldn’t get warm. My wolf was restless, too, whining and insisting that we weren’t safe: how could we be, when we weren’t sleeping in our mate’s arms?
I knew it was a bad idea when I threw back the covers and set my feet on the cold floor, but I hardly had a choice in the matter. I needed to be with him, to feel the rise and fall of his chest and hear the beat of his heart. I’d hurt him, and I couldn’t apologize for it in any way that counted, but I could stay with him through the night. I could do that, at least.
Xander was asleep when I slipped into his room, but whatever he dreamed of must have been troubling, because he tossed and turned in his big bed, the covers tangled around his legs. It was easy to slip into bed beside him, my heart breaking as I laid a soft hand on his chest and heard him sigh my name in his sleep. I let him gather me against his bare chest, and listened as his breathing evened out and grew slow.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the darkness. “I love you.”
It was the first time I’d said the words aloud, but I was glad he wasn’t awake to hear them. He deserved better than a reluctant confession steeped in heartache. When I finally drifted off to sleep in his arms, my face was wet with tears.
As awful as the night had been, the morning was worse. Xander was already awake when I blinked myself back to consciousness, stroking my hair with a hideous gentleness that I did not deserve.
“Hey,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Hi.” I couldn’t look at him, could barely force the greeting from my throat. I should never have come to his bed; it had been a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Rosie, what’s going on?” Xander asked. He sounded anguished, like a man tormented. I had done that to him, and I couldn’t tell him why without hurting him even more.
“I can’t—it’s nothing,” I lied.
“It’s not nothing.”
“Please, just let me—I have to make breakfast,” I insisted, pushing myself off his chest and scrambling to get out of bed.
He let me go. I felt his eyes tracking me to the door, and then I was fleeing back to my room like a coward.
The rest of the morning was just as excruciating, with both Xander and Jace choosing to escape the house entirely rather than sit and eat breakfast, refusing anything substantial in favor of grabbing a couple of slices of toast on their way out the door. It was a relief and a knife to the gut.
As soon as I was alone, I wanted to run after him to tell him I was sorry, that I could find something to love about this island, but I didn’t want to make any promises I couldn’t keep. If I could go outside, maybe I would find something—maybe there was some beauty among the sparse greenery and bare rock once I left the ugly, oppressive town behind me.
The idea was tempting. My wolf’s ears perked up at the thought of having room to run and new places to explore. Surely, it was only the town that was dangerous. Surely, if I were fast enough, I could leave it behind in a matter of minutes, and then I’d be free to roam. I would find something to love about the island—a hardy flower that bloomed despite the acidity of the soil, or the sight of the sun setting among craggy rocks—and itwould loosen the awful knots that tethered me in place. Perhaps if I found enough things to love that weren’t Xander, I could stay here without needing to be tethered at all.
I found myself in the backyard without consciously deciding to go. There was enough of a gap in the dense foliage surrounding the area for my little wolf to slip through; I’d seen it on one of my many circuits, and in those early days, it had only been fear that held me back from burrowing into that gap and sprinting for freedom. It still frightened me, as deeply as I wanted to get out of the house, to have the freedom to roam, I knew the dangers that awaited me if I went. But weighing those dangers against the possibility of happiness? Of staying with Xander because I fully, wholeheartedlywantedto? The choice was easy.
Some people said shifting hurt, that the crack of bones breaking and reforming was uncomfortable and strange, but to me, it always felt like a great stretch. By the time my small white wolf stood where I had been, I was warm and raring to go.
Once I’d wriggled through that little gap, the first order of business was getting out of town. The sooner I could leave it behind me, the sooner I could relax and try to find some beauty in my surroundings. I took off north—figuring that it was safer to run through the female-dominated quarters—as fast as I could.
Running,reallyrunning, with my wolf felt like flying after being cooped up so long. The streets of Ensign were laid out on a grid, so it was easy to pick up speed as I hurtled down the single path that would lead me out of town. I barely registered the people I passed along the way, refusing to give in to the fear that they would recognise a strange wolf and give chase. I could not stop until I’d made it out.
Even when I hurtled past the last few buildings at the edge of town, I did not slow. There were woods ahead, made up of conical trees in a shade much darker than the vibrant greens I knew on Arbor, and I put on a final burst of speed to get me to their shadowed shelter. Only once the sun was blocked from my view by the dense foliage did I finally slow, letting myself take in my surroundings.
The forest was dark and cool, the rocky gravel that had hurt my paws giving way to loamy, moss-covered ground. Like everything else on Ensign, it felt stifling and austere, like the trees were trying to close in on me, but I pressed forward. There was no birdsong in the forest, only the occasional cry of a hawk, and the sounds of twigs cracking beneath my paws were like bullets firing in the quiet.
The atmosphere might be oppressive, but the scent in the air was fresh and lovely. The dropped pine needles that littered the ground were itchy against my paws as I moved through the forest, but I soon grew used to them, trying to concentrate on the rich color of the wood and the leaves that surrounded me. Itwasbeautiful, in a dark, dramatic kind of way—the same way Xander was beautiful. The thought made me smile, and I pressed on through the forest, searching all the while for a pop of unexpected color or the sound of a little critter.
