Chapter 29

Chapter 29

As he mind-linked with his pack, his eyes glazed over, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be inside his thoughts. I wanted to know every innocent and every evil thought that crossed his mind when he looked at me. Though I knew it would be useless for him to initiate me into his pack when his mating and marking would suffice, I still wondered if he would do so if I asked him to.

"You still have the rest of my stuff from when your beta took me." He winced as though my comments had wounded him; it seemed that he disliked recalling the state in which he had discovered me.

He gave a quick nod, his eyes glimmering once again. Not that I kept in touch with many people, but I had been without my phone for some time, and I needed it for Vera above all else.

Shortly after, there was a knock on a door, and Derrick became quite agitated. His body tensed up, assessing my condition. I could see he was considering the fact that he was the only one with the authority to observe me in this manner.

He strolled lazily around the kitchen, and as I observed the way his back muscles worked beneath his skin, I felt an overwhelming desire to touch them. As he opened the door and grabbed the items he had asked for off the floor, I balled my fists in revenge. The person who brought the items to us was aware of the need to avoid being seen as an obstacle between an Alpha and their partner.

I was dying to get to the bag when Derrick sighed and placed it on the counter, but before I could move, he was in front of me.

Despite his disgusting glance at the t-shirt he was holding, he assisted me in getting into it. I fought to control myself as his fingertips brushed across my skin and my nails bit into the palms of my hands. I reached my arms through the shirt, and he turned his focus to my hair, tracing his delicate touch purposefully down my throat and softly tugging it away from my neck.

He enjoyed caressing me, but every touch was agony. He wasn't even touching me for my benefit yet; instead, he was touching me for his own. I was haunted and hopeless in the face of it.

I shoved him aside and went to go through my purse for the one item I really cared about, the necklace featuring a pendant of a wolf.

I felt a wave of worry rise as I searched amid the chaos, my pulse pounding fiercely in anticipation of the realization that I had failed. No, it was simply knotted up around a hair tie. I removed it and gently stroked the charm, which immediately alleviate my concern.

Before I could recover myself, Derrick took the necklace from my hands, and I turned to face him with a startled expression.

He had heard my heart's hard pounding and seen the relaxation that washed over me, but for some reason, it had all infuriated him. I moved fast to seize hold of his wrists since I didn't trust him with them, and his strong grip could have easily broken the charm.

"Who gave this to you?" I noticed how he was looking at it, and his voice was low and full of terrible intent. I could tell right away where his thoughts had gone.

It infuriated him since he believed it to be a trinket from a lover.

In an attempt to appease him, I was on tiptoes as I attempted to break free of his hold, my fingers softly grazing his hands. The idea of another guy possessing what was rightfully his was making him feel possessive; he undoubtedly believed this to be the reason I refused to take his mark, but he was so wrong.

"It is the only thing I have left of my brother; please be careful with it." His imposing presence subsided, his rage turning to curiosity, and I could see all the questions stacked up in his stare—questions I was too cowardly to respond to.

"You have a brother?" He cast a closer glance at the charm, running his thumb over its finely detailed ridges.

The notion of seeing my brother again was enough to ease any of my problems; Kyle was the only thing that had kept me together throughout the years. Now that I had a king for a mate, I had wasted all the freedom he had given me looking for him.

Anxiety swirled in my stomach. I hadn't even considered that Derrick was the only person I could use to locate him until now.

My heart raced with anxiety as I struggled with incomprehensible emotions.

Why did asking feel so wrong if all I needed to find my brother was my mate?

Why was my stomach in knots and my avoidance instincts overflowing?

In answer to Derrick's question, I nodded my head. Then, before he could say anything more, I turned away from him once more to find my phone and shove it into his hands. Shoving the necklace into my pocket, I removed it from his fingers. I knew that if I continued, I would wind up making a mistake since I had exposed too much of my past and too many of my fears about myself now.

I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I stepped to the other side of the kitchen. I could feel his inquiries hovering at the edge of his tongue, and I didn't want him to say anything more. I focused on what I needed to do and ignored him.

The cooks were hard at work getting ready for the pack supper when I ran into this kitchen. I proceeded towards the stove, picking up the pot lids to see what they had been preparing, even though the supplies and preparations were still scattered about.

All I could find to feed him were boiled potatoes, a stew that seemed to require several more hours of simmering, and a type of chicken soup.

I proceeded to the refrigerator and rummaged through it, gathering the ingredients I needed to prepare him a sandwich, all the while sensing his intense gaze against my back.

I turned around and tried to find my way around the remainder of the kitchen, but as I walked towards him again and laid everything out on the kitchen island, silence descended. Derrick reached across the counter to get the last few items I needed, then he proceeded to sit on one of the stools across from me.

I wasn't used to having people stare at me, but the way he did it was incredible; it was as if my every action gave him meaning and my every breath answered the mystery of his life.

I think I made the worst sandwich I've ever cooked, with my fingers stumbling over each other, and it was all his fault. His smell enveloped me, comforting and unsettling at the same time, and his presence seduced me with foolishness. I detested him for it and was angry that he was abusing me, but I also wanted him to stop.

When I was finished, I pushed the dish in his direction while we both waited to see how he responded. He rotated the plate and examined it while humming softly, which I tried to focus on. I wished I could take it back as the seconds ticked by. Of all the things I could have made for him, I had made him a bloody sandwich—and the worst part was that it appeared as though I had done it with closed eyes. He was an Alpha, a King.

"I'll make you something else." He scowled at me as I reached across the counter once more and grabbed the plate's edge with my fingertips. His hand moved to stop me, and my heart pounded with my helplessness.

Before I could react, he scooped up the sandwich and took a big chunk out of it.

"It's good." Though I thought he was simply being polite, he spoke through his teeth.

"You're lying to me." Offering me the sandwich in his hand, he puffed and urged me to try a mouthful.

I was staring at him with my heart racing; he was reaching out to feed me, and I instinctively leaned in to take a mouthful of his sandwich right next to where he had taken it. I munched on it, and he hummed again, appreciative. He was correct—it didn't taste all that horrible—it simply looked awful.

"The way I look at you makes you nervous, but you're going to have to get used to it because I'm not going to stop." I looked at him with my heart in my mouth; he had known me so well, yet by dismissing my agitations, he was a self-centered bastard.

I watched him eat, wolfish pride swelling with each bite he took, wolfish need igniting every time he stopped to share his food with me, but I didn't respond. I was curious about the source of this man's knowledge on how to treat his partner, given his extended lifespan. It's possible that his parents instilled kindness and responsibility in him; he must have been content with them up until I destroyed everything.

Though I knew that everything he told me about himself would only cause me pain in the long run, I still wanted to learn more about him.

"Will you take me back to my flat?" I glanced over his face and saw the pain in his eyes as he processed what I had said.

Though I was hesitant, I understood that leaving at this time was the best course of action. I was becoming too comfortable in his company and was too engrossed in this small gesture of domesticity.

His one-sweet manner quickly changed to one of resentment and darkness, and he briefly refused to respond to anything I said.

"You promised that I could come and go as I please." He had merely murmured a few words to console me during my breakdown—not really a promise, but I hoped he had meant them and that he would be honorable enough to keep them. I gripped the sides of the counter, and he sighed with dissatisfaction.

His eyes were swirling in darkness when he raised his head. He rose from his chair and approached me, reaching out and grabbing hold of me.

"And I will fulfill my commitment to you—but with one exception. Without fail, you will return here each and every day." Considering how things were going, his demand wasn't all that outrageous.

We both understood that the farther I went in rejecting his mate mark, the more painful the distance would become between us. However, that was irrelevant to me because I needed the time to gather my thoughts and the room to regain some control over my resurrected power.

I agreed with him, saying, "Okay."