The Mates of Monsters
Chapter 28

I have my shower, but I'm in there for too long. I stand under the spray and work through the case like a detective-like it's mine to decipher and test and solve. If the Luna is the mother of the pack, then surely it is the mother's job to figure out why her children are killing each other. Yet no matter how hard I think, I still cannot get past the woman's ability to murder someone so attached to herself. And as I knew I would, I compair.

I know I could never kill David-mate or not-without the bond he has his Alpha nature to defend himself. The roles reversed, however, are more interesting. If David had the same sick, bizarre capabilities of that woman, then he could end me. I keep telling myself that killing ones mate is impossible, but if a woman kills her mate, it is very well possible. She proved it to be possible right before my eyes. Someone knocks at the bathroom door and I jump. "Brigette, are you alright?" I hear David call over the shooting water.

"Yeah," I call back and consider how the door is unlocked. I shut off the water but instantly regret doing so. There is no more sound buffering between us. I stand naked in the shower and cover myself with my arms as if David can suddenly see through doors. "I'll be down in a minute."

I quickly dry off and dress myself. By the time I am downstairs, Lindsey is back, and I can hear them chatting in the dinning room.

"Has she? What was she like before?"

"Resistant and incredibly focused on running away," Lindsey responds lightheartedly. "But she seems to be doing well here. She says she's happy, and that's all I care about."

There's a pause, and I find myself eavesdropping around the corner.

"She's a good one," Helena says, her voice coming out of nowhere. "I don't think she wants to leave."

Lindsey comments, "I don't think she could leave. She used to believe that mates are able to leave if they want, but now that she knows what it really feels like, I think she's changed her mind."

David asks, "What about boys-any boyfriends?"

My lips part. Of course.

"Brigette? No. No way. She never really showed much interest in anyone, so no need to worry, Alpha."

"She doesn't tell me much about her life before."

Just like you didn't tell me much about yours.

"Well, she can be a little closed-off, but once she's yours, she's yours. Don't tell her I told you this, but I think she's just a little scared of getting hurt, even when it comes to something as serious as the mate bond." Thank you, Lindsey, for giving him all sorts of things to hold over my head.

"I can tell," he says and my heart lurches.

"I'm sure she'll soon realize there's no need to be scared."

"Where is the girl?" Helena asks as there are sounds of chair legs moving against wood. "Maybe I should have gone to check on her before sitting down."

I cautiously back away from the wall.

"Don't worry about it," David says. "She'll be down any minute."

There is something unnerving about sitting at the table and pretending I didn't hear any of that. I suppose it isn't strange for them to be talking about me-I am the common link-but to have my behavior analyzed, to have them discuss such things... Are my fears really so obvious to him? I can tell; his words replay in my head, mimicking the exact tone-somewhat unsuggesting but ever so sticky. Do I really look like a scared little girl? Is it because we haven't moved as quickly as everyone else? "You know what, you two go ahead and start eating. I'm going to go get her."

"Are you sure?"

David appears from the dinning room and halts when he sees me. I'm still and silent and have nothing in particular to say. He glances back into the room then comes toward me. "How long have you been waiting here?" He asks lowly, casually. Can you tell? Can you really? It's what I think about saying, but I decide not to. Instead I say, "I'm not scared," as if anything about it is at all convincing. "Then I apologize for saying so."

I roll my eyes, annoyed because he's doesn't believe me, and he has every detail to tell him not to. Of course he wouldn't tell me how I feel, even if he knows such things better than I do. Or maybe he's more willing to accept the truth than I am; either way, I will deny it until the end of my days. How childish-to be scared of getting hurt. Why be scared of the inevitable? My father used to say that a man who dreads death all his life will never truly live.

Will I never truly love?

"Let's join the others," David says and reaches out to me.

Aggravated by their chatter, my menstrual cycle, and the witnessing of death, I step back. "How did she do it?"

"I don't know."

"Where is she?"

"Why are you so fixated on her?" He asks sternly, almost harshly.

"I was there, David. I saw her-"

"It's over now," he says. "You won't see her again. Nothing like that will happen again. I need you to try and move on just as I need everyone else to. Promoting the fear of inner-pack murder isn't good for anyone." "But it's not just pack members killing each other," I dramatize. "She killed her mate."

David clenches his jaw. He looks into my eyes and says, "Please."

And it isn't really a please. It's a please don't make me.