47

"You better know that!" I emphasise while boxing him with the pillow and he half-heartedly blocks the blows, all the while laughing. Knight makes a few more jokes, and I keep hitting him. Once we calm down, I settle back into my seat and begin eating my ice cream. After the third delicious spoonful, I realise I'm smiling.

After such a traumatic day, I'm smiling and almost feel guilty for it.

But I'm grateful I can still feel this small amount of happiness amidst such madness.

"Thanks, Knight."

"For what?" he looks over at me, his shoulder pressing against mine comfortingly.

"For cheering me up. You always seem to know how to lighten my dark moods. I honestly don't know how I'd survive this place if you weren't here." I realise my words are pretty sappy, but I don't take them back. Of course I would survive without him, but it would be so much harder.

"Don't mention it. I'm just doing my job," he playfully nudges me.

"Is that all I am to you? A job?" I say in a mock angry voice and punch him back.

"You entirely misunderstand me, milady," he laughs and puts on his most formal airs. "You are my friend, and as a friend, it is my duty to help you through whatever it is that's plaguing you. With such a beautiful laugh, is it any wonder I want to hear it and make you smile as often as possible? I'd be a cruel friend to let you feel so down all the time. Talk to me," he leans back and fixes his gentle hazel eyes on me, and I can't help relaxing in his warm and kind presence.

Taking a deep breath, I debate how much to say. "I'm just... I'm having a hard time getting along with Seneca. She doesn't seem to want to have much to do with me, or accept me as her son's mate." I see him nod, and feel encouraged to go on. Surely he of all people understands her temperament and aloof mannerisms, her habit of remaining distant. "It's just so hard to figure out exactly what she's thinking, especially when she barely wants to talk to me." And especially when her lips don't speak what she projects into my mind.

"Yes, she can be difficult to understand at times, not unlike most women," Knight says.

"I suppose you know a lot about women. No doubt you've had tons of girlfriends," I comment, having seen the way the unmated shewolves interact with him, obviously enamoured by his good looks and fine physique.

"Oh yes, hundreds of girlfriends, all lining up to be with me," he smooths his hair back with his fingers as he gives a smouldering look, and I laugh at his exaggerated actions.

"But seriously, you probably know Seneca better than anyone. Is she so distant with everyone, or is it just me she hates?" Choosing my words carefully, I prod for more information, hoping he can tell me something, anything, to help make sense of this puzzle I've found myself trapped in.

"Nah, don't take anything personally. She likes to keep to herself, but she has been more outgoing and friendly since Alpha Dennison died. But still, she won't even share with me how she's feeling or what she wants. I guess she's just been through so much, she can't see much point in sharing her woes. I have to read her expressions for myself, trying to gauge what mood she's in, if she's had a bad night or not. She doesn't want pity, not that many people have given it to her. She just wants respect."

"I understand that. Being married to someone who walks all over you would be terrible. I guess now she can finally be herself and do what she wants." As I speak, I shudder at the memory of her black eyes and even blacker soul, the soul of a demon. What does she actually want? And why is she not stopping her son from killing others in cold blood, unless that's her plan for this pack? To take it over while hiding in the shadows and slowly murdering the wolves who still follow the dominating ideals of her dead husband?

Knight speaks, interrupting my train of thought. "It's not just that. When Dennison met her in the forest at the western border, she was running from her family. She doesn't like talking about it, so obviously I don't know the full story, but they had been hurting her and she barely escaped with her life. Dennison was her saviour. At least for a while," he finishes with a grimace, as we both know how the story turned out.

"What?" This is new to me, how her relationship with Alpha Dennison began. Why would her family be hurting her? Did demons even have families? Obviously they can reproduce with other beings like wolves and have children, but I wonder now what family Seneca might have elsewhere, and why she would have to run from them.

"I can see this is a lot to take in," Knight lays a hand on my arm, and I try and erase the puzzled expression from my face.

I can't let him know the extent of what I'm taking in, as he put it. Too many things I have found out today, and if my mind doesn't melt down from the shock of it all, my heart with shatter from the pain it now feels.

"It's okay. I'm okay," I smile. "Let's talk about something else."

"Like my favourite tv show," Knight picks up a remote off the coffee table, his eyes still looking at me warily as if to really make sure that I'm okay, before he presses a button and the screen comes to life.

I've never really watched tv, preferring to read books and imagine the characters and stories in my head, in my own time, but tonight I really need a distraction.

We start watching a show, and Knight explains the plot and what's happened so far in the season. His words go in and out of my ears, not making much sense. I just listen to the sound of his voice and the hum of the tv, watching the scenes come to life on screen. It turns out to be a suspenseful crime show that after a few minutes has me squirming and clutching the cushion protectively to my chest.

Knight notices my discomfort, his keen perception surprising me again, and changes it to a romantic comedy that has me laughing and crying in all the right places. My emotions are heightened and I probably am making a fool of myself, but I don't care. It feels good to just relax and forget about the world for a moment.

I think I forget about it so much that after what seems like only a few minutes, Knight is shaking me gently and whispering my name.

"Did I fall asleep?" I mumble, and push myself up when I feel myself sagged against his firm body.

"I think you were dreaming about Malachi. You kept moaning his name and making kissy sounds with your lips."

"I was not!" I raise my hand to smack him, fully awake now, but he grabs it with fast reflexes as a laugh escapes his chest.

"You are too much fun to tease, Ari."

"And you are too much trouble to bother with. I don't know why Seneca keeps you around," I say moodily, hating the blush that again stains my face. Getting up off the couch quickly, I grab the pot of ice cream and shove the lid on it.

"You love me, don't deny it," Knight stands also and helps me clear up and take the snacks back to the kitchen.

"Love is putting it strongly. I would say it's more like, tolerate," I put my hand on my hip and refuse to give in to his charming smile that is trying so hard to win me over.

"Fine," he concedes with a dramatic sigh, hunching his shoulders forwards. "If you can only stand to tolerate me, I guess there's not much point in me cheering you up when Seneca bothers you again." He stares at the floor in dejection, his bottom lip jutting out, and I roll my eyes at the childish way he likes to behave.

"Alright, I admit. I more than tolerate. I like you. There, you happy now?"

His head whips up and he gives me a dazzling smile. "Sure. You know I'll always be here for you, Luna," he salutes me.

I roll my eyes again and they land on the clock behind him. "Goodness, it's nearly midnight! Where on earth is Malachi? I didn't feel him come back..." The fears and doubts instantly come crawling back into my veins, darkening the lightness that Knight had instilled in me. Since Malachi disappeared after treating me strangely earlier this evening, he hasn't been far from my mind, though I've tried to put the questions aside and not let the anxiety eat me alive.

I watch Knight focus carefully, mindlinking someone, then he tells me. "He's with Hamilton by the northern forests. I can't imagine what they're doing, because Hamilton wouldn't say."

Knight must be in the dark about this, but I know. The young Beta must be helping his Alpha control the blood thirsty urges that wrack his mind and body. Hamilton is there with Malachi, helping him regain his senses after nearly unleashing something dark on me. And suddenly, I feel sick. Why can't I be the one Malachi turns to for support? I am his mate. I get that Hamilton is his best friend and has been since forever, but I am here now. I am meant to hold Malachi's heart in my own and complete whatever is lacking in his soul. Why can't he depend on me to pull him from this darkness?

Why can't he trust me to be the light his black soul needs?

"Okay," I murmur, wrapping my arms protectively around myself.

Knight clenches his jaw, perhaps holding back on saying something, then gives me a gentle look. "I can stay tonight if you want the company."

Taking a deep breath, I weigh up his offer and dismiss the uneasy feeling it gives me. "No, it's okay. I wouldn't want to trouble you like that. I'm fine."

He seems to understand my desire to be alone, and pats my shoulder reassuringly before backing out of the kitchen.

Truth is, I hate being alone. My heart longs to be wrapped in the comfort of my mate or at least my parents. But it's just me in this empty house. I don't feel Seneca in her room, though she could be here and that chills me even more. I want answers, but I realise I am too afraid to go searching for them.

After preparing for bed, I curl up under the covers and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to envision Malachi in my mind's eye. But all I keep seeing is this hideous monster caped with black wings and a murderous expression on his face. Pale skin etched with cool veins, icy breath raking across my face as he leans in close and whispers my name in lust.

I keep praying that it's not true, that Malachi is actually the angel who would rescue me every time I fall, catch me before I plummet to the hard earth. I feel in my heart that he is warm and has a body of hot blood that would only spill to save me, not harm me. That his muscular body is enhanced with powerful wings for flying above the heavens, not for slinking in shadows, lying in wait for me to trip and fall into his deadly clutches.

No matter how hard I pray, I dream of his death, and finally awaken to pale light peeking through the curtains. It dismisses the shadows, pushing them into the recesses of our room and banishing them to daylight.

I am weary, tired, my bones heavy as I drag myself from the bed after running a hand over the empty side where Malachi never lay last night.

"Is this how it's always going to be?" I whisper to myself. "Always, this distance between us. These secrets and masks that we wear to hide the truth..."

"The truth is that I care for you."

I whirl around, stunned by the heavy voice that speaks from near my right ear.

My vision collides with bright blue chips of ice, framed by black brows and an even blacker fringe. Malachi stands so close, I could reach out and cup his face in my hands.

I slap him. "How can you say that?"

He flinches, but doesn't jump back. If anything, he angles his body even closer to me, his scent of toasted chestnuts enveloping me and calming me. "You wanted the truth."

Despite how I'm feeling, his words seep into me and whisper sweetness to my heart. "I don't believe that. You lied to me for so long. You kept telling me you were searching for the killer, and couldn't find him. When all along, it was you. How could you keep something like that from me?"

I curl my fingers into fists and glare at him, at the pained expression on his face, and convince myself that the pain in my heart is even stronger.

"I didn't even realise what I was doing until Hamilton and I figured it out together. I told you, I didn't remember, not at first." He speaks slowly, quietly, never raising his voice in the stillness of the morning, unlike me. I am feeling all these emotions rise up within me and I want to scream.

"So then, how long? How long will you have to keep fighting this? How long until you can control the murderous beast inside that not only wants to hurt your pack, but ruin whatever is between us?" I wave my hand, flinging my fingers in frantic motions that echo the floundering of my heart.

He reaches up and takes my hand, pressing his fingers gently between his own, and presses a kiss to the tips of them. The sparks that jump across his lips to my skin abruptly stop all motion, anchoring me, and even this simple touch has my body nearly surrendering to the calm presence of my mate. I hate that I want to run from him, yet fling myself in his arms and never let him go.

"I don't know. But I'm getting better. Hamilton is—"

"Hamilton. Of course. You can trust him with all your dark secrets, right." I pull my hand free, instantly despising the cold shivers that now run over my bare skin.

"Ariella, it's not—"

"No, I get it," I turn away, needing to avert my eyes from the endless pleading in his blue depths before I lose myself in the peaceful storm of his eyes. "You need time. You asked this of me before. Just wait until after your birthday, when you turn twenty, then we can focus on us. I understand." I speak in a harsher tone than I mean to, but I can't take it back. I won't cover the hurt I'm feeling.

"Yes. My birthday." His gentle voice washes over me as he steps closer, his breath teasing the hairs on the back of my neck as it caresses me. I shiver as his fingers slide up my arms softly and come to rest on my shoulders. I lean back almost involuntarily, my body aching to close the proximity to his.

"But right now, I'm going away. Just for a few days."

"What?" I spin around and face him. "Why? Where... Who with?" The questions tumble about like the emotions I am once again feeling. All this confusion.

"Just to solve some pack matters. I can't say where, as it would jeopardize the purpose of the mission."

"Telling me would jeopardize it? Because I'm just a pup who doesn't understand what's going on? You're just going to keep holding back things from me, keep hiding everything that's happening like I'm not even anyone special to you—"

I am cut off when his lips cover mine, kissing me deeply and imparting all the anguish he feels, and the strong emotions he has for me. The bond between us sparks and tingles, like electricity running from his veins to my own, in such a way neither of us can deny the destiny of ours, bound together.

His warm hands are holding my face gently, the pads of his thumbs caressing my cheeks as his tongue tangles with mine. Like the vortex of a cyclone, I am standing in the calm of him while the madness rages around us. For this brief moment, of just us, everything is okay and I feel comfortable, peaceful, calm. I belong.

Then he gently pulls away and whispers against my ear, still pressing his body to mine. "You are very important to me, the most special person I have ever needed in my life. And I'm still trying to understand how this all works. This bond between us. Please, Ariella...mate....just give me time. But I need to go now."

Tears gather in my eyes as he draws further away, and I clutch the collar of his shirt, even if to delay him for only a moment longer. "Just tell me where? I need to know where you are. I hate not knowing." I can already feel the loneliness creeping in, sapping me of any comfort I might have felt in his arms.

His jaw clenches. I recognise the action as one of decision, and hold my breath while he debates in his mind.

What I would give to be able to read it.

Malachi finally loosens a sigh and takes my hand in his before pressing a final kiss to my palm. "Hamilton and I are going to Alpha Asa's territory. He's agreed to help us deal with a recurring problem since our enemy has also gone to him, seeking asylum."

He reads the question in my eyes. Which enemy?

"A longtime enemy. A rogue called Zander."

"Savannah! You get right back here and listen to your father."

"But he's just gone out the back, muttering something about an emergency with Uncle Roman and Uncle Benny," Savannah skipped out of the kitchen, away from her mother who was trying not to get angry with her gleeful attitude.

There was no way Chesca was going to let her oldest daughter get away without a stern talking to.

"Alright, then sit down. Looks like I'll have to do this." Chesca took a seat at the table and waited until Savannah had trudged back and slumped in the opposite chair.

"Do you need me here for this?" Miranda asked as she finished making herself some coffee. She had spent a quiet evening with the Alphas' family, and enjoyed playing with the children. Right now she balanced Isaiah on one hip, her coffee in the other hand, and navigated her way around the toys on the floor. Isaiah waved a book in the air, threatening to knock her in the face in his enthusiasm to hear the bedtime story.

Chesca glanced at her friend who had grown more dear over the years. "No, you go ahead and read him his story. He'll get cranky if you don't." She blew on her little pup's toes as he passed, then waved them on to the living room.

Snuggling up on the couch and reading stories together with the girls was one of her favourite things to do. It not only relaxed the energetic children before bed, but also gave her a chance to get off her feet. Patting her very swollen belly, she assured herself her unborn baby was happy before giving her attention back to Savannah. The eleven year old was fidgeting in her chair, obviously dreading the talk with her mom.

Everyone knew Chesca could be more stern than Kaiden when it came to disciplining their children. She loved them to bits and wanted them to grow up to be honest and hard-working, kind and trustworthy. Letting them get away with bad behaviour was not her idea of loving them.

"So tell me," she schooled her face into a serious expression, and Savannah swallowed back her dismay. "Did you really put gum in Justin's hair?"

"It was only a tiny bit!" her daughter instantly defended herself, and Chesca frowned.

"Do you know how long it too Kira to get it out? After washing it with soap and shampoo and even turpentine, it still didn't come out. She eventually had to cut his hair off."

Savannah couldn't help letting out a snicker. "I know! And now he doesn't have a fringe and looks ridiculous!"

"This is not a laughing matter," Chesca tried not to laugh also, but stayed focused on the serious issue. Kira had eventually given Justin an allover shave to even out the haircut, but that was besides the point. "What did Justin ever do for you to stick gum in his hair?" She was growing exasperated with all the shenanigans her daughter kept playing on her friends. Though most were harmless, she didn't want them to get out of hand.

"Something terrible, I'm telling you!" Savannah's eyes grew round and her hands got expressive as she explained herself. "He put an eel down my shirt while we were swimming in the lake, so I—"

"So you paid him back by putting gum in his hair?"

"Well, I—uh..." Savannah sputtered, realising she wouldn't win this.

"And what have I taught you about pay back?"

Sighing in resignation, she bowed her head slightly in obedience to her mom and said, "You've said that we shouldn't pay anyone back, no matter how mean they've been to us. Because payback isn't nice."