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CHAPTER EIGHT

The day crawls by, with me thinking of Hendrix. I can't get over the image of his slit throat, and what marvels me most is his reaction...totally numb.

 

What if it was just a facade?

 

'Men hurt too, and when they do, they hurt the most. Imagine not hurting much like a man and when you do, you hurt less like a woman?' My papa had taught me.

 

And daily, I strive to find the balance between the two sides and maximize their strength.

 

I roll on the bed aimlessly, not knowing for sure how he's feeling makes my heart bleed. When he called my name and said he was okay, I perceived the hurt in those words and I fished out his lies.

 

But what if I'm the one overthinking things?

 

'You should check up on him, he might be in pain for all we know...'

 

I block out my wolf's voice. One thing is clear, my slutty wolf would lead me out in the dark so long as her mate is concerned.

 

Over and over again, I roll. Tired of the mental torture, I get off the bed, strap my sword to my waist and sling to my back, put on my boots, and start for the door.

 

I find myself running more than half of the journey, and my heart panting like a chased deer. When I arrive, I barge in without knocking and shoot for his room.

 

He's bare-chested, like the first day. The dark and curly hair of his chest is right in my view, neat and well groomed, I follow the fine trail of hair as it disappears in the depth of his pants, leaving me at the edge of a cliff...poor lusty soul.

 

Reluctantly, I look at his throat, the very reason I'm here... though not totally. His wound has been tended to, and the fine finishing of herbs lurk around the tip.

 

Acting on impulse as the first time, I close the distance and reach for his throat, my hands dancing around it, trailing the bruised skin gently with my thumb as though he would break down.

 

"Hendrix, tell me, are you okay? It's just the both of us, you don't have to fake it."

 

"I'm fine." He gently tugs my hand off and untangles himself.

 

My heart sank, but then again, I may be overthinking things.

 

"Have you had something to eat, is your papa around? Can I..."

 

"Lady Natalie, I'm fine. You can stop worrying now."

 

Words escape me. I'm definitely not overthinking things. We may have only spent a few days together, but I can swear that it feels like I've known him for a lifetime.

 

"Lady Natalie?" I scoff. "Hendrix would never call me that."

 

"Maybe he died in the pack house." His obstinate self defends.

 

"No, he died here, or maybe on his way home." Because I felt the passion in his touch and now? It's gone.

 

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

 

Taken aback, I only stare at his suddenly huge frame.

 

"If what I heard and saw in the main chamber is true, you shouldn't be here."

 

"Disregard them. They can't dictate how I live and who I choose to be with." I'm careful not to use the word 'love'.

 

It's for the weak.

 

"Unlike you, they can with me."

 

"I'm the next alpha, you're safe with me."

 

"And I don't feel safe. It doesn't feel like it, I'm sorry." He bluffs. "It's best you leave, for the both of us. This thing would cost us dearly and I can't afford the luxury. It's already forbidden for me to be here and talk more of being with their alpha."

 

"Thing?" I fight back tears.

He doesn't respond.

"Goodness!"

 

I can't cry in front of anyone. I tell myself... But right now, I can't follow my own orders. Tears fall freely, and I cuss beneath my breath.

 

"You want me to leave?"

 

He keeps mute.

 

"Like I'm so stupid to chase the wind?" My voice breaks. "I will take your advice and go be with Dante if that makes you happy." I turn to leave.

 

"You're not stupid... Natalie." His voice is shaky.

 

I stop on my spot. He called my name, I sob.

 

"But the longer you remain here, the more unforgivable our sin becomes."

 

I spin to face him, my eyes on him.

 

"And who cares about their forgiveness? I don't or do you?"

 

I scan his face and wish he would lie to me, even though he does care.

 

He doesn't speak... Perhaps, I shouldn't force this.

 

I turn to leave when firm arms grip my waist, spin me around, and press me on his firm bosom.

 

He takes my lips in bolts of rough kisses; hungry and greedy.

 

I reciprocate, engulfing every inch of his full lips in my mouth, stroking every terrain with my tongue in a soft velvet swipe.

 

As though he wasn't having enough, he grabs my butt and lifts me to himself, as I lean on my toes, throwing caution to the wind. Gently, he trails wet kisses along the line of my neck, down to my collarbone and cleavage.

 

I moan, hot, damned.

 

"I don't care about them, Natalie. It's you I care about." He says when he manages to pull away.

 

I exhale, relieved, even though I wish he wasn't doing it for me to be happy. At least, we both don't give a flying fuck.

 

"I'm glad."

 

"You don't seem like it."

 

I sigh, not wanting to ruin the mood.

 

Kneeling down, I give a long and neat swipe with my tongue, from his waistline to his belly button. I linger for a while, playing with his hard abs, my hands walking my way down to his pants.

 

"Uh..." He moans, deep and daring.

 

Walking my way down to his waistline with the soft trail of my nails, I pause. At the lower left of his abdomen, just above his pelvis, is the sketch of a woman...

 

Wait... Hendrix has a tattoo? An actual one, and a woman?

 

I swallow hard, engulfed with jealousy. How dare he rope me along? He could have rejected me even though I was his mate.

 

It could never be his mama, rumors have it that he never got to meet his true parents.

 

"Why did you stop?" He sucks in air.

 

"You... You have a tattoo." I trail the fine edges of the craft.

 

He runs his hands through his hair. "Yes. I've always had that."

 

"How come I never saw it?"

 

"Because we were too lust to be redeemed."

 

I blush, now is not the moment to take his spicy jokes.

 

I peer at it, the lady is on something like a battlefield, with an outstretched sword. She is graceful in all sense of it. Her hair, a fine cascade of dark curls, adorned with a crown, broad hips, prideful and radiant...

 

"She's irresistible, right?"

 

I force a smile and take my eyes off my rival. When I look at Hendrix, my heart sinks even more. His eyes are firmly shut, as though he is battling an erection.

 

Just the thought of her makes him horny.

 

I hate myself right now, and I blame my wolf for stupidly luring me out here.

 

'But Natalie...'

 

'Shut up!' I shut my slutty wolf immediately.

 

"She is the sexiest demi-goddess. I've always had a crush on her and fantasized about being her man. When I found out she is more beautiful in person, I knew it would take more than being a man to have her..."

 

"You should tell her." I fight back tears, the tightness in my chest threatens to consume me.

 

"Damn the cursed human boy, who couldn't get past the forest, I was always hunted after. I thought my dreams died, so I would only watch her from afar..."

 

"Right..." I sigh.

 

"I thought to bring her closer to myself, don't blame me for being greedy and possessive."

"And so you tattooed her on your body... right."

 

I stand up to leave, already exhausted from his sick story... Screw me!

 

He grabs my waist and presses me to himself, and I don't try to fight him, too weak to start one. He lets go of my waist, and he holds my face tenderly instead, so I look straight into his eyes.

 

The tears that sting my eyes gently pour down, shamefully.

 

"When she told me she gave up her crown and sword for me, I knew I would cause her so much pain, and she doesn't deserve such."

 

I swallow saliva that's like a hard nut in my throat.

 

"Who's she?" I manage for the first time.

 

He wraps me in his arm and pulls me to himself, with his free hands, he tucks strands of my hair from my neck and he begins to plaster kisses on my bare skin, wet kisses.

 

"She's in my arms, the only one meant for me..." He kisses.

 

I go wet and weak.

 

"Hendrix..." I sob lightly, pressing him tightly to my skin, enjoying the pleasure from each sensitive spot he kisses.

 

"Yes, honey?" He stops to look at me.

 

"Don't stop..." I whisper, aching badly for more.

 

"You wouldn't be saying this for long." He sneers.

 

I chuckle, raking my hand through his hair. He always has a way of making me go wild.

"Life is painful enough, allow me to share yours." I blink back tears.

He looks away, and then back at me.

 

"You were jealous of yourself?" He diverts.

 

I chuckle yet again, dancing to his tone. "Who wouldn't be? I still am though."

 

"Don't be." He smiles and presses a feather-light kiss on my lips.

 

"What's this scar?" I caress his breast with my thumb, hovering over the scar.

 

He stands upright to observe the scar. "That's from an attack when I was little. Probably from a rogue, or even members of this pack... My papa warned me to never step out, aside from this vicinity."

 

"I'm so sorry..." My voice is frail, as I begin to imagine what he must have been through.

 

"The one on my neck," He pauses to show me, as he tilts his head to the side. "I got it when I first saw you in the field with your papa, I was lost and lusty..." He giggles. "My papa never forgave me for breaking his rules.

 

Somehow, I'm laughing when I should sympathize with him.

 

"And you, do you have any?"

 

"Not really, none that you've not seen." I respond.

 

"I want to see it, again." He says, more like an order.

 

I leave his grip and tug on the extra of my gown.

 

"Is someone shy?"

 

"No." I lie. Even though we've had sex, I doubt myself he would like my body.

 

Taking a bold leap, I pull the gown over my head, leaving me bare to the minimum. Not a single protection.

 

He gasped, making my breathing labored.

 

"It's on my..."

 

"Shhh..." He stops me, with a finger on my lips. "I will find it."

 

I shiver, knowing Hendrix, he would more than find it.

 

He bends down, sniffing his way down to my belly button, kissing and trailing with his soft wet tongue, from my boobs down to my waist and up again.

 

I suck in air, resisting the urge to pull him up and make him pay for all the troubles.

 

He kneels down and looks at me.

 

"Spread your legs." His voice is deep and horny.

 

"What?" I blink severally.

 

"Now." He orders.

 

Normal people would do that themselves, but Hendrix would make you do it, leaving you more vulnerable and wet.

 

Slowly, I spread, just wide enough for him to fit in.

 

He caresses my thighs with his hands, as he walks his way up, and stops to suck the thick skin in between them.

 

Not able to withhold myself, I press him closer to me, moaning helplessly.

 

He reaches my waist and stops, just not long enough before he ignites sleeping desires. He runs his tongue along the line of my scar, the one I got from the attack.

 

"I love you, Natalie." He confesses, his eyes red with lust.

 

I bite down my lips, partly from pleasure and partly from confusion. I don't want to lead him on and abandon him, I just can't love him totally... not now, at least.

 

"Do you love me?" He demands, not getting any answer from me.

 

"You found it." I breathe slowly, both proud and aroused, and also because I lack the right answer to his quest.

 

He looks away from me, and back to the scar, aware that I'm ignoring him deliberately.

 

"I did." He kisses the scar once more, before standing up and taking me by the arms and to his bed.

 

He lays on his bed and wraps me up like a gift box, not unboxing me further. Crap! My body burns, inflamed from want.

 

I try to speak, but my throat is all dried up.

 

"I want you to be more than horny... I want you to be ready." He whispers into my ear, sensing my desire.

 

Resisting the urge to take my pound of flesh forcefully, I rest my head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and watching the rise and fall of his chest.

 

I remain cuddled in his arm, filling my lungs with the soft scent of lavender and herbs. He is perfect, in every sense of it.

 

There's a loud obnoxious banging on the door.

 

He sits up and lets go of me.

 

"I will go get the door." He gets off the bed and hurriedly wears his pants, before dashing for the door.

 

I get up and start to get dressed.

 

The noise of Hendrix screaming and that of another scolding, makes me sprint for the door without having my boots on.

 

Hendrix is on the floor, taking brutal punches from the offender. His face is almost distorted as he poorly tries to defend himself.

 

"Get the fuck off him." I yell, scared for Hendrix.

 

I take out my sword, aiming for the man in the hoodie and when he looks up, I freeze.

 

It's Dante.

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