Page 29 of Her Wolf's Demands
A smile danced across my lips as I grabbed the jug of water on the bedside table and threw it over the sleeping wolf.
She spluttered and growled, trying to rear up. Her tied legs were a hindrance to her escape, forcing her to plop back down. Lifting her head, she stared, her orange eyes full of sadness.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dragging a chair across the floor and placing it beside the bed. “I know you had feelings for Malone.”
Her form shifted, her grunt loud as her bones cracked and her fur retreated. The binds went with her, shrinking to fit her dainty wrists and ankles. Her face appeared last, her head resting on my pillow.
Moving quickly, I grabbed a blanket and threw it over her perfectly bare form. As comfortable as the wolves were in their own skin, I wasn’t about to have a friendly chat with a naked enemy. I wouldn’t know where to put my eyes.
“You have no idea…” Rochelle almost choked.
Her eyes were glassy, a film of water covering them as she looked away. She tugged on the material binding her, trying to break free. My magic was more powerful than her wolf strength. It would take her forever to get free. She’d probably have to gnaw on the material with her sharp canines for several hours.
“Then, explain.”
My heartbeat sped up as I sat back in the chair, crossing my legs and tucking my hands between my thighs. If my jealously reared its ugly head, at least I had them clamped away safely. For now.
“Why should I speak to you about my life?” she spat, her cheeks turning red as she struggled on the bed.
“Because,” I said, not daring to move in case I unintentionally threatened her, “I know what it feels like to want something you can’t have. Okay, so it wasn’t a man. I’ve always failed miserably in that department, but…” I bit my bottom lip as I contemplated my answer. Did I tell the woman who wanted me dead about my darkest thoughts? If I laid myself open, she’d either understand, or use the information against me. I didn’t know her at all, even if I felt her emotions. Was it worth the risk? “…I’ve wanted freedom from my troubles. I’ve longed for it, crying every evening, knowing it was something I could never have.”
Blinking, Rochelle swallowed, shifting to sit up and lean against the carved wooden wolf headboard. “We all want freedom from our troubles.”
“True,” I countered, “but do you have a father who is deemed the most useless warlock in Brighton? Or a brother who has occasional episodes where he’s so paranoid, he can’t leave the house?” My words came quicker, flowing from my lips as I became breathless. “Or maybe a coven who despise you because of your birth name? Oh, and to top it off, a thriving spell business that actually depletes the rest of your energy?”
Rochelle raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”
“Fuck. That felt good to say out loud.” Releasing my shaky breath as my tight chest loosened, I sat back in my chair, swinging my crossed leg back and forth.
“I… I wouldn’t have thought that I had the tell-me-your-woes type of energy,” Rochelle said, shaking her head, “but thank you for sharing, I guess.”
Her haughty manner couldn’t be melted so easily, although I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t quite sure what I was aiming to do. She knew what I’d been through now, on a very basic level, but it wasn’t enough to give her power over me.
“I’m not surprised you’ve struggled,” she said, surprising me.
Staying quiet, I swallowed, not quite sure how to reply. Having a heart to heart with a cold-hearted she-wolf wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined. Not that I’d thought my plan through. Typical Della.
“My dad was amazing.” Her words were whispered on a breath, strangled at the end. “He was killed because of Tom, Malone’s father.”
A pang squeezed my chest. Wow. She had actually told me something about herself. And if the tears that hovered in the eyes were a clue, she had adored her father. It was a foreign concept to me, one that I had fantasied about in the past. Yes, I’d actually pictured my father showing up to our apartment and hugging both me and Drake, before declaring that he loved us very much. A girl could dream, no?
“What did Tom do?” I asked, curious to hear about the previous alpha from another person.
“He sent him into a battle knowing full well they would lose. Ten of our men and women died that day.”
A lump came to my throat, making me cough. Rochelle raised her eyebrows, searching my gaze as I looked at her. I had to keep my composure if I wanted her to respect me. Allowing my emotions to run wild wouldn’t look good for the alpha’s mate.
“Why would he do that?” I kneaded my hands together, anxiety making it hard not to do something as the emotions from her distress washed over me.
Rochelle stared into the distance, disappearing into a time in the past. A time that had obviously caused her much grief.
“I don’t know how much Malone has told you.” Her gaze was clouded over as she opened up. “But his father became a tyrant ruler near the end of his reign. One day, he received a report from his men that several wolf packs were bearing down on us, ready for revenge over an honour killing.”
“Honour killing?” I spluttered.
Her eyes blinked briefly. “Tom became different, his mind playing tricks on him. He took it upon himself to execute one of the pack’s fated mates. She was from another pack, integrated into ours for years when Tom lost it and took her life.”
“So, her pack came after Tom?”