Chapter 25
The floor moved beneath us, our weight colliding with the magic that had left my body as we fell to the ground.
The ground uprooted itself, gathering dust, grass, and dirt into a cloud of ruins that were mine to make. My partner and I merged in a way that shouldn't have felt so intimate as I trembled and fell, the after-effects of my powers prickling at my skin and filling me with weakness and chaos. I pressed myself into his flesh, bracing my hands against him while I struggled with his wolflike mood.
His savage snarl shook me, and I could feel my thighs straining against his hips, painful from both my actions and his grip. He had grabbed onto me as we had fallen, but I was still spread over him, wrapped around his limbs in a way I shouldn't have been. His massive bulk swallowed my little body and forced me up against his roughened edges. While my body was soft in every way and fragile against his, his broad shoulders were bound by muscle, and was made wholly of sinews.
With ease, he had dealt with the fallout from my actions, securing himself to me in the only way possible as his monstrous shape roared in terror and his talons dug into the skin by my sides. There was a macabre intimacy, a primal yearning to be felt, a bloodlust that pierced our mate bond like a bolt of lightning. His hold on me was a never-ending display of all he was capable of—all he could offer and all he could take away.
I felt my chest heave as I met his intense gaze. I could feel the want, the stress, and the fury all tearing through me as I saw his iris become larger and darker. I felt myself sinking into them; they were a chasm of force and feeling.
As the magic in my veins started to uncoil, my heartbeat was slamming against my ribcage with such force that it was rattling my bones. It felt like its essence was taking away all that had been given to me, leaving me empty-handed.
Even though his hold was painful, I could still feel my instincts gnawing at me. The thrill of what had transpired swept through my body like a tidal wave.
I could feel the need to summon my powers once more becoming destructive, the desperation seeping into the pit of my stomach.
This was awful, really, really awful.
Derrick's shadowy eyes seized mine, and I felt scared.
Under me, his body trembled, his fangs protruding from his gums once more. This time, I knew he was going to use them to destroy me; there was no doubt in my mind that he would mark me.
By pushing him to the ground and flipping him onto his back, I had made him aware of my magic. It had defeated his wolf and was drawn to him at the same time. It tasted so good that I desired more of his blood, but at this moment, that was all that mattered. As the Alpha King's almost-mate, my fate was set. There were only two things he could do to me now that he knew about my witch blood: reject me or have me killed. He was bound by a royal order.
As I watched him process his choice, I found it more difficult to breathe. When my own magic turned on me, all the time I had wasted attempting to find a way out of our doomed destiny had been in vain.
My need to go was growing as Derrick's body started to give way beneath me, but I had nowhere to go. I was standing on top of my opponent, his warriors encircling me, and his claws joining my body to his. His claws stayed in place, serving as a painful reminder of what he was capable of, even as his body trembled and reformed, going back to being a human.
I was unable to take the fading rage in his eyes.
I felt helpless against him and didn't want to fight him. Years had passed since I had believed that my partner would save me, but in reality, he had been my downfall all along.
I shifted through my apprehension and lowered my sight, focusing my hands on his chest. The notion of that made me want to curl up against him, cling to him, and cry into the bend of his neck—this was probably the last time I would ever get to touch him.
Derrick was furious quickly, wrapping his words around me in a web of rage. They were scathing and heartless, and I wondered how he would carry out his obligation to me. The thought of him being the one to take my own life was unbearable, even though I was no stranger to the chains of death, having been brought close to them numerous times as a youngster.
"Are you insane? Do you have some sort of death wish that needs to be relayed to me?" With tears welling up in my eyes, I was shaking my head vehemently as the significance of his remarks completely escaped me.
I was too distraught to try to comprehend them, too oblivious to what had transpired between us, and too consumed by the fear of losing him and myself.
For days, I had been telling myself falsehoods to persuade myself that I would be happier alone without a partner, but suddenly I realized the truth: I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me. I didn't want to live in constant fear—of my mother, of my magic, or of myself. I didn't care about the cost; I just wanted to be selfish and have him all to myself. I had discovered too late that I had lived my entire life either concealing or being concealed.
"Did they teach you fucking nothing at your previous pack?" My body tensed up as I cautiously raised my eyes to meet his, his words resounding with authority. He was frowning angrily at me, but his eyes had softened slightly, the green slithering around the periphery of his dilated pupils no longer seeming so menacing.
At last, his words started to stick in my mind. His question seemed strange for a destiny that seemed so certain. I was beginning to doubt my confidence that he had experienced my magic in the same way that I had, based on the way he was staring at me.
Panic was twisting inside my chest as I examined him; his expression should have revealed the real me, but he continued to look at me in the same manner that he had since our first meeting. With his gaze, I could tell he still desired me. Actually, he hadn't pushed me away from him yet, and even though his comments were angry, I hadn't noticed any trace of contempt.
I leaned in his direction, my confused expression clinging to my face as my sweaty palms touched his flesh. His eyes followed every movement I made, gliding over my body before returning to stare at me.
"What?" My voice wavered, faltering on the last sound.
It tore through my body like a fucking missile, and he was standing next to me; there was no way he hadn't detected it.
"Has your pack ever taught you to avoid upsetting a wolf that is stronger than you? It was fortunate that you made me weaker because if you hadn't kissed me—
I daringly moved my hand toward him while my pulse skipped a beat. Derrick closed his mouth as my palm gripped the underside of his chin, and my thumb moved to lightly touch his lips, surprising him. His body shivered at the slightest movement, and I wept beneath his outburst.
How could he not have known?
"My kiss weakened you."
My eyes went wide as I processed the new knowledge. Since I was his mate, he thought that the mate bond had given me the power to subdue him, which is why he hadn't sensed my magic. It was he who had given me the opportunity to overcome him. The fact that those were the only options he had considered left me dumbfounded.
He saw my magic as nothing more than a passing breeze filled with our shared passion for each other, even if it had destroyed me.
"In what other way do you suppose you defeated me? I was in the middle of my metamorphosis, but I had total control over my wolf. I might have injured you. He spoke it out, and I took a deep breath. Even though he was incredibly conceited, at that very moment, I appreciated his haughtiness.
I could feel myself pulling away from his body as his words of comfort soon gave way to tiredness. After going through all seven stages of grieving, I was at a loss for what to write about.
His rage subsided as he noticed my altered behavior, but now I was experiencing a completely different kind of panic rising inside my chest. I had accepted a fact I wasn't ready for, but I had believed this to be the end.
"Kylie?" I let out a choking sob, my heart blazing at the sound of my name on his lips.
As I continued to stare at him, the pain in my chest grew. Once more, he leaned in my direction, but I wrenched my body away from him, severing his hold on my sides. He suddenly withdrew his claws as he gave me a horrified look. He had no idea how he had been holding me or how badly he had hurt me, but it was irrelevant now.
I needed to find somewhere to breathe since I could no longer stand the smell of him. I turned my back on him before I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and with that, the warmth and protection of his body vanished.
The warriors observed me as I moved, tripping over my own feet and turning my clumsy steps into a sprint with my eyes fixed on the packhouse a mile away.
His claw wounds were deep and flowing, burning my sides with the effort, but I persisted. Not exactly; I was rushing away from him.
I was aware that he was trailing along at a slightly slower pace than I was. Unlike before, he wasn't hunting me down like a predator; instead, he was acting as my defender, observing my surroundings and allowing me some room.