The Mates of Monsters
Chapter 57

David enters the spare bedroom just as I leave the bathroom dressed for bed. The look on his face is immediate-he's regretful, sorry. I think I might be too for what I'm ready to say. He explains without need for my prompting, saying, "There was a situation with a guard. There was a rogue wolf in the area and it attacked him which is something we haven't had happen in a long time. We only see rogue wolves maybe once a month, and this happened out of nowhere. We had to track down the wolf, and I thought maybe I could still make it back in time, but obviously I've let you down." With my plans at the front of my mind, unaffected by his reasons, I wait until he speaks again.

"What are you doing in here?" He asks.

"I'm getting ready for bed. I'm-I thought I would sleep here tonight."

David says, "No. Come on, you're sleeping in our bed."

"I'm not trying to punish you," I tell him. "I just need some time to think about things. I just want to sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning. So please, I'll stay here and you sleep in your room."

"Our room."

I watch as he stalks closer, nearing until I'm backed against the wall. Obviously, this was not a part of my plan, but there is always room for the unpredictable. My lips form an unimpressed line but it falters when his arms raise on either side of me. He lowers his head to bring his lips to my ear. "Come to bed, Brigette. You know this is the last thing I wanted to happen," he says then looks into my eyes. I turn my head away.

"You said we would be together," I mumble. "All I wanted was to be alone with you away from all of the commotion."

"I did. I had every intention of keeping my word, but some things are out of my control."

"Some things are." I turn back and place my hand on his chest, wanting to withstand the bond from luring me in. "But there has to be a balance. I don't want to feel this way again because it hurts, and I refuse to believe that it makes me a bad Luna."

"Then I'll figure something out, okay? It won't happen again."

"Okay. I hope you do. I'll see you in the morning."

David runs his tongue over his teeth and keeps me caged. "You're not staying in here."

"I am. For the night."

"You belong in our bed."

Before I can answer, my words are lost when he lowers to my neck and kisses me there. My body lifts off the wall and obeys his touch, eager for more, despite my head urging me to stay strong. "David," I breathe as one of his hands drop from the wall and move between my legs. He continues to kiss my neck and trail up to my ear.

"Come to bed," he says, and the deep-rooted want stirs within me. His hand moves torturously, back and forth, and I feel myself losing focus.

"Why can't you just... leave me alone," I mutter.

"I'll have someone else deal with it next time," he says and slides his hand into my shorts, into my underwear. "I promise you I will never be late again."

"Y-You..." He pushes his finger into me and I let out a moan of relief, finally getting a taste of what I've been craving. My hands grab for stability on his shoulders and claw at his shirt when he moves inside of me, soon adding another finger and getting a better hold. He talks in my ear, egging me on. All of my pent-up emotion is smothered, and I know I won't be able to take it for much longer, not with his thumb drawing it out of me as well. I think about him letting me down, promising to do better, touching me and making me feel this way. Whether it's right or wrong, I soon fall victim to the greed of my body and bite my lip as I come undone. My moans slip through and intertwine with my breath, feeding David's ego. There's no privacy; he watches as my head tips back, as my brow tugs in focus then breaks in release, my lashes fluttering. He slowly takes his hand from me, and once I'm free, I shove him away.

"Brigette," he breathes, questioning, confused.

"You can't just-do that." I tuck in my arms.

"You didn't want me to touch you?"

"It's not like that. I just don't like it when you use it against me."

"Use it against you?" He repeats.

"You did that to get what you want."

"I did that because you're my mate, and I like touching you, and I know you like being touched. I know you don't want to stay in here alone. I know you're upset. When I say I'm going to figure it out, I'm going to figure it out, but if what you truly want is to spend the night in here, then fine. Stay here."

He steps closer when I look to the floor. "I apologize, Brigette. If I didn't have your consent to-"

"No," I say, "it's not like that. Please don't think you...hurt me."

"Do you want me to leave? No questions asked," he sighs, sinking, "I'll go."

I nod and he does. He closes the door behind him, and I lean against the wall, unsure of how to feel. My brain processes the situation and replays it in my head for the moment it went wrong. Maybe I meant to punish him. Maybe we shouldn't have been intimate like that- and I feel unnerved knowing that David questioned his role-thinking he abused his power, abused the bond.

The thought of him blaming himself for taking advantage of me makes my stomach lurch. If he thinks I didn't want it-that couldn't be farther from the truth. Goddess knows all I do is daydream about those things and wonder if there's something wrong with me.

It was the shove. It was too dramatic. He thinks I hate him, but I'm energized with emotion. Do I even care if he coaxes me into our bed by touching me like that? No. The man only wants to hold me. Why can't I let him hold me? Why do I have to make him pay? Yes, he got caught up in Alpha issues, but he's only trying to be a good Alpha. I've known these consequences my whole life, but I suppose that doesn't stop it from disappointing.

Why can't I tell if I'm wrong or if he's wrong?

We're both wrong, aren't we? And somehow other things got tied up in the mess. It is hard not to act out when you feel so strongly toward someone. Fighting, touching, pushing, punishing, disappointment-it's not black and white; right or wrong. The bond makes me feel all of these powerful things and suddenly one thing is leading to another. Suddenly anger is not anger and excitement is not excitement-it's an all-consuming mess inside of me.

Aurora is pregnant, and Nicodra hurts her. I think that's what happens when the line between love and hate is blurred and distorted. The bond is a hurricane of passion, of relentless, encumbering emotion, and in the wrong hands-the hands of someone like him-maybe you start to lose control. You feel so strongly towards something that these things feel one and the same. That's a frightening place to theorize, but there has to be an explanation to Nicodra, and Aurora, and that woman. The bond has to have its weakness, so what if that weakness is found in its strength?

Could one love and desire something so relentlessly that it's possible to glitch and break and try to suffocate it?

I don't last long in the spare room. Unsurprisingly, David was right; I don't want to sleep without him.

Like the hall, our bedroom is dark, but I know my way around. I sneak to my side of the bed and slip into the covers. David, awake as I expected, welcomes me into his arms and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I feel terrible."

"Please don't. It's okay, I'm fine. You can touch me; I want you to. It's just that things got a bit out of control."

"When you pushed me away, I thought my heart had stopped. I'd never want to hurt you."

"You didn't, I promise."

"I'm going to make time," he says. "Things are going to change."

My eyes adjust and the bedroom isn't so dark. I kiss him softly-a short, endearing kiss-then shuffle closer. He holds me fully, thankful. "I know. I believe you."

I leisurely walk down the stairs in the morning to have my usual breakfast in the kitchen with Helena, but my interest is peaked when I find David's scent still potent in the air. He's home. He's rarely home at this time; he's made a habit of leaving before dawn, even in the summer when dawn may as well be the middle of the night.

I slide my hand along the railing as voices seep into the hallway from the kitchen just beyond. I leave the steps and eavesdrop against the wall, listening like I have when Lindsey was here. Such sneaky acts did me well back then, so maybe it will today.

"It isn't as popular here, but I think it would be plenty of help with the workload," David says, his voice obvious to me.

"I don't see a problem with it. Having a third is very reasonable with packs of this size." It's Ken.

"Yes, but you didn't have one, did you?"

"I also spent all of my time out there handling things myself. There's no shame in seeking help. If I could turn back time, I would do anything to spend less of my life being Alpha and more of my life being your mother's mate. I don't remember the moments I planned new shifts or hunted down a thieving rogue. I remember my time spent here with her and with you-that's what matters, and you're right for solving this now."

David slows. "I don't want to disappoint her-not anymore. There needs to be a balance between being Alpha and being a mate, it just isn't so simple to draw the line between them."

"They may cross over into each other. There is no perfect way to live life. If you lead as Alpha with good intentions and love in your heart, then your people will see that. They will adore it as they have. A third is a brilliant idea, and I wish I made such a decision in my day." "I have a few people in mind. I'll let Tarlo have a look as well."

"I'm sure Brigette will be very happy with you," Ken says. "This will be good, David. The Europeans have utilized a third in command for hundreds of years, and they seem happier than ever-never has it caused problems, not that I've heard of."

"And they won't think me weak for it? For needing help?"

"You know the truth. That's all that matters."

There's a pause in their conversation as David assumingly contemplates.

"Alright. I'll move ahead with it then. If all goes well, the position should be made official by next month."