45

I slowly nod, relinquishing my fears, and watch as she tilts her head.

Such dark thoughts for a pretty mind.

She lifts her hand and runs a finger down my cheek, her nail sliding behind my ear as she tucks some hair behind. My thoughts slow down, the worry escaping from my mind and a relaxing calm taking its place.

"Would you like some lunch? I was just thinking of making salad and sandwiches." I suggest, grateful for this conversation and feeling much better about everything.

"That sounds lovely, Ariella. But I am not yet hungry. You go ahead and I'll help myself later."

"Sure," I smile as she leads me from her rooms, feeling lighthearted and at ease.

After making some food for myself and heading out in search of company, a cold sensation settles in my bones despite the warm conversation with Seneca.

With a demon.

What did I expect her to be like? Did I want her to deny it, or to truly be like the terrifying creatures from my nightmares? How am I supposed to react to the revelation that she is a spirit that can move in the Interealm, but also inhabit our world, love, and give life like any ordinary person?

"Whatcha doing, girl?" Devanshi falls into step beside me as I jog around the training field.

Exercise feels good, stretching my muscles and unwinding the tension in them. It also clears my head so I can think. There is always something so smothering and numbing while in Seneca's presence. Maybe now I know why.

"I'm just thinking," I answer Devanshi once I remember she asked me something.

"About?" she prods, and I nudge her with my elbow.

"Are you always this nosy?"

She shrugs, unoffended by my sharp tone. "Are you always this sullen?"

I sigh, and decide to share, "I just found out some things about Malachi and his family. It might take a while to deal with. I'm not sure how I should feel about it, or if I should feel anything at all. It's just all so confusing."

Devanshi breathes in slowly and loops her arm through mine, "Our pack is very complicated. Lots of bad history to make anyone want to run instead of staying in place as Luna. But if anybody can love Alpha Malachi and lead us beside him, it's you. Despite the fear and mistrust, there's goodness in the heart of the people."

"I see the goodness in you, Devanshi. You're a true friend."

"Then trust me when I say, we need you as Luna."

I wrap my arms around Devanshi, grateful to have her support.

"Vanshi! Are you coming over for dinner after work?"

I look up and see a woman approaching us. She is heavily pregnant and glowing with excitement in her eyes.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss my own sister's famous lamb koftas. Ariella, this is my elder sister Sharniya," Devanshi introduces us and I smile at the beautiful shewolf who could pass as a twin to Devanshi.

"Nice to meet you. Devanshi has told me many stories of you all growing up together. Your family is wonderful." I say.

"Did she tell you about the time we snuck out one night and had a crazy party with the guys from the neighboring pack?" Sharniya nudges her younger sister playfully.

"You didn't!" I give my friend an astonished look.

"I've left my wild self behind me," she tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled demurely.

"Well, I found my mate that night, so I am grateful for your 'wild self' as you call it," Sharniya laughed and swatted her sister's arm. "So Ariella, you'll join us for dinner? It's just a small gathering of friends before my mate and I leave to visit his pack and family. Besides, I'd love to get to know my future Luna better."

"Thank you for the invite, but I think I'll be spending the evening with Malachi. We have lots to discuss." I glance at Devanshi and she nods understandingly. "So, when do you leave?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Next week, before the full moon."

I smile, but immediately have concerns for this vibrant woman. I motion to her unborn baby. "You must be so excited for your precious gift. When are you due?"

"In a couple weeks. It's our first pup, and Adam, my mate, is completely in love with him already," her hand caresses her stomach adoringly.

"May I?" I ask, my hands drawn to the baby.

"Of course. He's pretty active right now so I'm sure he'd like to meet you."

I place my hands on her swollen abdomen and immediately feel a prickle of dread creep up my arms. A twinge of pain washes over me. "Is he alright?"

"What do you mean?" Sharniya looks at me with a puzzled frown.

"I mean, have you had all your check ups and is he a healthy baby?" I have been around and felt many expectant mothers, sharing in their joy, but this is different. I sense something I never have before.

"Yes, the Doctor said just last week that everything is fine and we don't need to expect any complications."

I smile and breathe easy, for their sake. "Well, perhaps it's best if you don't travel far anytime soon. Just in case."

"In case of what? I don't understand."

Sharniya looks to her sister who is equally alarmed and staring at me as if I am crazy.

I've often wondered if I am. But if my gut instincts have taught me anything these past couple of months, it's that I shouldn't dismiss them. "I've worked alongside my mom with many pregnant shewolves. Lexi is a midwife, and I've learnt a lot from her. Maybe it's just intuition or something else, but I think you should be careful. I'm sorry for disturbing you." I see the small amount of anger or perhaps resentment in the mother's eyes that had been so open and joyous before.

"It doesn't matter. I'm fine. Everything's fine," she holds her stomach again, as if shielding her unborn baby from me and my dire concerns. "I'll see you later," she looks to Devanshi with an unreadable expression before walking off, not once looking at me again.

I feel terrible for killing the mood. "Devanshi, I'm sorry—"

"It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong. The doctors have said the baby is okay. It really doesn't matter what anyone else says," her big brown eyes pierce mine, daring me with a sad expression to keep doubting and sowing unnecessary fears in her sister. Pregnancy is hard enough, I know, without extra concerns.

She leaves to go back to work, and I trudge towards home. Young Sammy runs up to catch me and begs me to help him and his friends ride their bikes. His father recently got him a second hand one from another family after Sammy coaxed him for weeks, and now the young pup is anxious to learn to ride. I spend the afternoon with them, grateful for the fun activity to take my mind off darker things.

When I finally make my way home, I spend a short while making dinner then drawing before Malachi gets home later. The sag of his posture and frown between his eyes tells me everything his lack of words don't.

He is drained, weary, and in no frame of mind to discuss anything serious. We prepare for bed silently, and I do all I can to make him comfortable and at ease. We share a deeper connection since our time together out under the stars last night, and I know that even in this silence, we are speaking volumes of how much we care for each other.

Malachi holds me close as he falls asleep, and as I place gentle kisses on his forehead, I watch the creases disappear. I watch him as he sleeps, his expression so calm and peaceful like a young child. He looks so much younger and vulnerable in this state, and my heart aches with the misery of all he has gone through, of all the tragedy in his life and his parents' lives.

Can I blame him for being cold to me? Can I blame the pack for not respecting him or trusting him to be their Alpha?

What can I do to help these old wounds heal?

I lose myself to sleep and dream of Malachi and I walking through meadows of flowers. The horizon is marred by black clouds, but sunshine illuminates the purity and goodness in my mate's eyes. Yet the darkness creeps closer until it swallows our footsteps and snatches at our breaths.

When I awake suddenly, I am alone and the sun has not yet even neared the eastern horizon. The empty bed beside me intensifies the empty feeling in my chest, and I clutch my warm pullover tighter around me in a protective manner.

The temperature has dropped, and I watch outside the window as light flakes of snow fall to the still earth below. With each one that spirals from the dark grey clouds, a heaviness settles over me and constricts my limbs in fear.

I feel it in the depths of my bones, this icky feeling.

Something is wrong.

Terribly wrong.

The earth is cold and brittle beneath my feet, blades of grass snapping and flakes of snow crunching as I make my way down the paved path.

The brisk air before dawn approaches is biting through my coat, seeping into my skin. But none of this compares to the sharp ache spreading from my chest outwards, radiating through my veins and out to my limbs. A heaviness robs me of breath and I try to gulp in oxygen as I hurry across the lawn and out the estate's perimeter fence.

I know this pain is Malachi's, I can sense it through our bond. Through the connection that has been strengthening despite his intentions to remain distant. I feel him and a fraction of the emotions he is going through.

I don't know exactly where he is, but I feel I am getting closer. These intangible threads tying us together pulse and coil around me, piercing my tender heart with pain, anger, and hate. I nearly buckle under the weight of this last emotion, my feet stumbling over the uneven ground of the forest.

Shadows hide the path, just as they cloud my mind and drag me under a sickly haze of turmoil and loathing. I am hating this emotion of such hatred, it is black and red and full of spilled blood, the life-giving liquid pounding in my temples and veins even as I smell it spilling to the earth. The metallic scent churns my stomach but I keep pressing forward, keep moving forward.

Malachi is in trouble, and the one thing that keeps me running towards him despite my growing fear is the undeniable knowledge that I need to be there for him.

He needs me as much as I need him, amidst this darkness that surrounds us.

A deep growl echoes off the trees in front of me, followed by low grunts that send shivers down my spine and goosebumps cascading across my flesh. If I was afraid before, I am terrified now.

Terrified not for my own safety and what is ahead of me, but because of the unshakable feeling that what I'm about to find might change my life forever.

"You worthless piece of trash."

The throaty growl reaches my ears from a clearing up ahead. Tree trunks still block my sight, but the voice holds familiarity.

"You thought you could get away with this disgusting behaviour!"

"And you're a monster! Please, don't hurt me—"

The cry for mercy is cut short in a horrible scream, gurgling in the man's throat, and I can only assume his own blood is now drowning his lungs of life.

I urge my feet to continue forward, pushing me into view.

And everything within me wished I hadn't.

Malachi is crouched down on the bracken forest floor, his back to me, breathing hard in ragged heaves of his torso. A man lies crumpled on the other side of him, partially blocked from my view by Malachi's powerful silhouette.

However, there is still no mistaking the blood that covers the body and fresh stench of death that hangs in the stillness of dawn. Not even a breeze stirs the leaves, witness to what just took place, but the pieces fall into place as Malachi stands and kicks the body before him. "In the dust is where you belong. Now you can't hurt anybody else, you filthy mutt."

"Malachi?" My heart is hammering, thundering in my ears so it is hard to hear my own whisper.

But he does. And he slowly turns around, revealing his arms and chest that are coated in streaks of blood, mixed with dirt to create a canvas so horrifying I can't seem to draw another breath.

"You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't see this!" he growls menacingly, his eyes narrow slits, and I truly believe that I must be dreaming again. That this is another nightmare.

But the scents are too strong. The cold on my skin is too real. The snow and cracking twigs beneath my feet are too detailed to be a part of my hazy nightmares.

"Is your curiosity satisfied now that you see me like this?!" Malachi yells and motions to himself, his eyes wild and crazed. Crimson flecks dance in his irises as he takes a step towards me.

"Malachi, what happened?" I refuse to back away even as he stalks closer. "This isn't you." A thousand thoughts are pushing for recognition in my head, but one stands out.

Demon.

Demons kill for sport, murder people in cold blood. Play games and scare people for the fun of it.

Seneca is a demon.

Yet she said Malachi wasn't one. So what am I seeing now?

"Oh, this is me," he spits, his lips curling back to reveal sharpened teeth, honed to rip apart flesh.

My body now involuntarily takes a step back as he comes closer still, and I cringe at the rough tree trunk behind me that halts my retreat. I am cornered, trapped, threatened by my own mate. I feel the tug of hatred, but it might not just be Malachi's this time. It is my own. My own hatred...towards him.

"This is the cold-hearted me that refuses to stay buried inside. Aren't you the one who's seen it all along? I am a monster!" he raises his fist and slams it into the tree behind me. I wince and shudder against the splinters of wood and his heated gaze, the heat of fear swirling between us, and I can't stop the small whimper that escapes me.

"You killed him." I refuse to look at the body on the ground, but we both know who I mean.

"Of course, I did. But would you rather I killed someone innocent? That dog was a vile creature. Utterly disgusting," he spits to the side, his husky voice dredged with loathing. "I followed his scent of dirty lust and found him sleeping with a woman, someone not his own mate. He was cheating on the sacred mate bond. Smearing it in the dirt like it didn't mean anything. Just like his blood now. In the dirt where it belongs while his soul rots in hell."

"So..." my breath comes in quick gasps. "So you punished him? You just killed him for his sins? What gives you the right—"

"I am Alpha!" He responds with vehemence, his hot breath fanning my face as he leans in close, and I squeeze my eyes shut in a futile attempt at protecting myself from the rage I see in his.

"Malachi, get away from her."

Instantly, Malachi looks over his shoulder, and I recognise the firm command has come from Hamilton.

"That's it. Step away and calm down. It doesn't have to be this way."

I open my eyes and watch the Beta calmly walk towards us, his hands outstretched, palms up as if taming a wild beast. That's assuredly what my mate is in this horrible moment.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Beta Hamilton," the Alpha stalks away from me and towards his Beta, his eyes purposefully glancing down at the mangled body between them. "I don't think I have enough blood on my hands yet."

The snarky way he speaks, taunting, revelling in what he's done, is making me feel sicker than I already was. What happened to my angelic mate? This is just my nightmare. This is just the Malachi I dreaded, but have been assured doesn't exist.

Right?

"You have more than enough. And you know you don't want this," Hamilton speaks clearly and slowly, and I see the shift in Malachi. He blinks, his crimson eyes darkening to black. He looks back at me, his forehead creased in rage, his fists still shaking from the pure black energy that ripped a man to shreds.

"You need to go, Ariella. I'll clean this up," Hamilton whispers to me from across the clearing, his eyes still on the dangerous Alpha that stands unsteadily in the centre, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.

"No, I'm staying. Malachi needs me." I watch my mate as he turns about, his eyes taking in the grisly scene, then looking down at his fingers that caused it. At his chest where a stained heart beats out of sync with the beautiful crisp winter morning. Hot blood still thunders in his veins, and I can feel the heat radiating from him as he lifts his tormented eyes to mine.

"Ari—"

"Malachi, it's okay. You can fight this. You can fight whatever is happening to you," I bite my lower lip and pray it's true. I pray whatever has come over him will leave and return my gentle mate to me.

"No, you don't get it," he shakes his head, and when he looks at me again, his eyes are azure blue. His eyebrows slash up in a broken expression that further widens the crack in my heart. "This.." he runs both hands through his hair, pushing the dark fringe out of his face. "This is me." He sinks to his knees, a choked sob torn from his throat and I watch, paralysed, as he clutches his chest and curses himself bitterly. "This is what I am." The black fringe that falls back over his face may shield some of his expression from me, but my heart understands the agony behind his cracked voice.

I cross the space between us, the chasm of pine needles, fine flakes of snow, and ghastly splatters of blood that stand out starkly from the beauty of nature. Tenderly clasping his shoulders, I demand his attention.

"Malachi, look at me."

He lifts his head, eyes of blue rimmed with angst.

"This isn't you."

He shakes his head, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he swallows back the emotion.

"Whatever this is, you can fight it," I continue, putting as much strength and resolve in my voice that I don't truly feel. However, I need it to be true just so I too don't fall apart because of what is happening.

"Ariella," Hamilton stands close and speaks firmly. "I will deal with this. You take Malachi away from here," he commands, forcing some sense into this situation that nearly has me crumbling. I grasp onto his strength and calmness, and take a deep breath to fortify myself.

Straining my senses out around us, I hear a small creek trickling nearby, and rise to my feet. Pulling Malachi by the hand, I lead him away from the horror and toward the cleansing water. If his body is cleaned and his mind is cleared, perhaps then I can get some answers. I need to make sense of this.

As soon as the creek comes into view, Malachi walks ahead and steps down the embankment and crouches by the water. I imagine the temperature is near freezing, as ice flakes still litter the forest floor and form small clumps along the water's edge. As Malachi kneels in the swift flow of water, he splashes the clear liquid up onto his face and neck, washing himself and wiping away the stains of blood on his chest.