Chapter 102

Alyson

I'm paraded in a short pink dress, one that hardly fits me at all. It's frustrating to keep the ends of the fabric down below my backside, something that amuses Olivera as I shift uneasily in my seat. He rests a hand under my leg at the table, the same dining room he had once chained me to the table pole before. I try to ignore our old squabbles as it appears our new ones are far more dire and wounding.

The food is brought out, a handful of rogue wolves at the table picking over several plates of dashing, delicious food. I ignore my plate, wishing I could ignore the hand on my thigh as well. Olivera wants a docile little house pet, a kitten, and I refuse to be that for him.

I shove his hand off my leg, ignoring his warning of a stare.

He wipes at his mouth with a wet, white napkin, and looks over his table, proud but distracted with me by his side. "A toast to war," he exclaims proudly, everyone raising their glass. Everyone except for me, of course.

"Disrespectful whore," Mattox growls.

I stare at my plate, untouched. "Rogue swine."

A glass is thrown, the red wine splattered all over my lap but the glass not even breaking on impact against my body, or the wall nearby. Instead I peer up to see Olivera with his hand outstretched, clutching the glass cup until he flexes once, the glass shattering in his palm.

I watch the crystal spray across the table, everyone muttering at once.

I flinch slightly, feeling a stray glass chip scratch my arm in the mess. My blood perks the room up fast, and suddenly it's as if everyone knows what I am used for, what I am good for, and it's incredibly embarrassing.

Wordless, Olivera wipes his hand on his napkin, blood pooling into the fabric. He doesn't even blink before he returns back to picking at his plate, everyone silently watching, like tiptoeing around a sleeping tiger. Everyone else follows his lead soon enough and the dinner is alive again.

When I feel the eyes have moved off of me, I brush my arm, wishing it would heal but knowing that under the guise of the silencing stones on my wrist, it doesn't taint its initial powers. I watch Olivera work around his cut palm and mind the marks that still ooze blood. He protected me, as if uncaring when he throws something at me but making it known no one else can do so. I brush my blood onto my fingertip, holding it toward him as an offering.

Setting down his fork, Olivera peers curiously at my actions.

I insist, holding the few drops against my index finger, hoping he will take it for his notion of protecting me.

"Please," I say, my hand trembling.

Blood runs down the side of my palm, circling my finger. He takes my wrist, minding the silencer stone, and raises his tongue against the side of my arm, soaking the blood onto his lips and humming a noise as he pulls away.

He outstretches his hand, healed instantly, and gives his bruting beta a simple look of snark. It irritates me to no end, seeing Mattox point his frustrated eyes in my direction. He snarls under his breath and returns to eating, Olivera doing the same while I watch my plate, keeping it untouched. I think of my mate and his undoubted sorrow; it keeps the hunger at bay.

I wait through the dessert coarse as well, my mind and hurt aching, pained for something to sooth me but it only spares me a moment longer. I just want to be with Ryan, have his body curled up behind my own in our bathing tub, the warm water trickled off our shared bodies and the candles flickering with our panting, hot breathes.

I feel myself dare to faint, the pain of not having my mate almost unbearable.

"We are leaving now," Olivera presses, snatching my arm and taking me from the table. I trip trying to sooth out my dress but the rogue Alpha doesn't care, pulling me hastily toward his room. "Pick up the pace, Luna."

When we arrive back to his quarters, he slams my back against the wall, my shoulders aching heavily, his breathe hot on my face as he sizes me up. His chest pushes to mine, his hands gnawing at my dress fabric.

"Why?" he asks, sparking his tone with a hint of anger.

My brow furrows. "What are you asking me, Olivera?"

"You gave me your blood. Why?"

"You protected me," I breathe. "So I protected you."

"Yes, and yet I betrayed you. So why haven't you betrayed me?"

I shake my head, saddened that a wolf could be so naïve in thinking that a Luna of all people would be such a snake in character. "I do not betray," I sigh heavily. "I have been betrayed," I groan, thinking of my sister, the one person I should have trusted and yet, I had been stabbed by the hands of my family. "You need to learn that just because you have been hurt, doesn't mean we are all out to do the same to you."

He huffs a breath, growling in doing so, shoving his body harshly against my own until we are flush from our heads to our legs. I go limp in his grasp, his lips finding my cheek then my neck, and it burns to the touch of his kisses that line my shoulder.

"Ryan Alexander," I breathe, his name sweet on my lips. No matter what, I will continue to say his name, just to remind myself of his love, of our mating bond, and the gray areas of our lives right now will be overrun with the good memories, not the bad actions. "Ryan Alexander."

"I won't do anything that is unwelcomed," he mutters into my neck.

"None of this is welcomed," I plead, feeling his tongue swipe at my throat. "You are chaos, Olivera. Pure and utter chaos. It will return to you one day in excess. I just refuse to allow you to turn me and my mating bond into chaos."