Just My Luck

19○ An Accumulation Of Sleepless Thoughts

L A N D O N

Locusts could swarm to me and I'd open my arms quicker to them than I would Veryan. Yet I let him in and placed him in my bed with tenderness I reserved only for my grave.

My mother killed herself, my brother ran off to some unknowable place and my father was in a coma but meeting Veryan Delvaux was the worse thing to ever happen to me.

The first time he sat beside me, the first time he said his name; the first time he looked me in the eyes, I knew this volatile creature would be the death of me. Whether he would kill me with his unbearable irritants or by the undeniable need I have to be near him; I would not like to know.

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No one had ever grabbed me by the collar. No one would dare. Not to the son of Tobias Arriens. Not even to the neglected son of Tobias Arriens.

The son in the shadows, seeking warmth behind his mother's dress skirt.
The son who was dragged to every meeting so a once powerful pack's declining prestige could be upheld.

No one would touch me. Because I had a name. Because I was an Arrien. But soon that meant little; the crumbling house of a name so close to royalty was no longer respected.

It was only feared.

And that was good enough for me.

But they craved more. My father. My brother. My pack.
More respect. More fear. More power.

They went to every meeting. They killed every runt. They twisted themselves into the best. And in the end they broke themselves. And in the end I was left to clean it up.

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Power ripped my father from the conscious realm. Or rather Torrez's pack ripped the consciousness from my father.

In an attempt to take power, my father went looking for it in other territories. To his demise, others would not let it be taken from them.

Now he has been laying in a dusty bed for approximately six years and if not for Xavier, darn old man, he would be laying where he should be: in the ground.

Before my father was found in his woeful state by Xavier, my mother, Diana, the purest of all, overcome with misery for her missing mate, went in search for him then took her life, leaving me and my brother behind with nothing and with everything.

As I never wove the nerve to ask Xavier how exactly he found my mother and father, I simply settled for his recollection of their misery memoirs.

My brother, long gone after the news of our parents, left these broken pieces upon my shoulders and stuck in my pores for me to tweeze.

With my older brother's disappearance, Xavier hastily pushed for my ascension to the title of alpha at the age of seventeen. The next Alpha Arriens. Another curse has befallen me.

I was left with nothing and with everything.

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Since I was forced to take control so young, Xavier emplaced the treaty. As long as my father is alive we would be protected. As long as he is alive, the broken pieces are not wedged that deep. As long as he is alive, I am merely a place holder. He must stay alive, so that is all I will be.

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The pack was feral under the rule of my father. The rabidity was engrained in them as it was all they knew. But under me it grew weak; It is for the best.

Enough fear. Enough respect. Enough power. We have enough. It is good enough. There will be no more broken pieces. There is enough. I have enough.

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All there is now is me and the breathing shell of my father, battling to see who deteriorates first.

Although I would prefer my father as a dead husk, I do hope I run myself into the ground.

Well, I did.

Now, for some reason I have an urge to be alive.

Maybe it was the twig of a boy who pulled me by the collar. Maybe it was the dirtied boy who built a gazebo from scratch. Maybe it was the man whose beauty dimmed the moon.

Maybe it's because I felt guilty for leaving him so crestfallen, plunging into that pond.

Definitely not that one.

Maybe it's because as I sit here looking at him on my bed, enveloped in my scent; wearing my shirt, for the first time in this pitiable life of mine I have an urge. So dark and hungry. So deep and wanting. The soft curves of his face begins to churn something within me.

I push it down, but with every breath he takes it bubbles up.

I just...

I just want to suffocate him.

Every breath he takes tethers me to him.

I can hear his breathing filling the once empty corners of my room, forcing his way into my space.

Locking my doors to his naked, shivering body would have been the best decision for my sanity.

Three years had passed successfully with keeping him away from me. I refuse for my life to be lived for him. I refuse to breathe for him. I refuse to be bonded with a man who can do nothing for me. A man who would run away and leave me to hang myself in misery.

How unlucky must I be that this runt managed to weave his way into my skin?