This is it. He's going to die, and I'll be free.
At the last second, he moved, and I was suddenly pinned up against the wall, the silver dagger now in his hand. He pressed the blade to my throat, a sadistic grin creeping across his face.
"Oh, Reese...
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I wanted to hit something.
That wasn't saying much, since the strong desire to hit something was one that afflicted me on a daily basis, but right now, it was more urgent than usual.
I really, really wanted to hit something.
Preferably Elijah, but there was no way I was going back into his room. If I did, I probably wouldn't come back out until later. Much, much later. It was fact, nothing more. While I was able to tamper it down when I confronted him, this stupid completed mate bond broke free of the cage I'd hastily stuffed it into and was shouting at me to turn around and go back to the Alpha. Elijah. My mate.
I knew it had been a stupid idea to go to him last night. It had been the full moon, though, and the bond had been tugging me toward him, growing stronger with my revelation. Though I'd been in complete control of myself until he kissed me. Then... I don't think either of us could have stopped once we'd started.
It was one thing for me to walk out of there on a normal day, even if everything had screamed at me to return. It was another to try to fight against the pull of the mate bond during the full moon. The one time where werewolves, lycanthropes and shifters alike, were at its mercy. Though shifters aren't forced to transition like lycanthropes, they're still at the mercy of the moon cycle. Every one of their cells urges them to go out and find their mate, for whatever reason.
I wasn't sure why they praised the mate bond so much. Why they held it in such high esteem. In my opinion, being tethered to another person for the rest of my life was a nightmare. Especially since it's somebody I hated and desperately wanted to kill above anything. And now? While I still want him dead, the thought sends a spark of pain shooting across my chest; a reminder that if he dies now, I'll spiral into a deep depression that nobody could pull me from.
What a comforting thought. It was probably enough to make Elijah feel confident that I won't be trying to kill him anymore.
Well, the joke's on him. Who ever said I had any sense of self-preservation? Well, I did try to escape from the city two months ago so I wouldn't be captured, but that was so I could keep murdering supernatural beings. It was for a higher cause.
But still, doubt tickled at the back of my mind. I'd seen what Opal had been like after Kyle died. Would I really wish that type of pain upon myself, to a greater extent?
It concerned me how I couldn't answer that question anymore, now that the anger was leaving me. Which reminded me that I was supposed to be raging right now. Elijah had marked me, without my consent. I may not be a werewolf, but I was pretty sure consensually marking your mate was rather important. And after pausing repeatedly last night, pre-sex, making sure I was okay with it?
At least he didn't ask why I wouldn't let him touch my clothing. Why I wanted to remove it myself. Not even Opal knew I'd been raped by a vampire, the same night my brothers had died, when I was enraged and grieving and filled with a subtle self-hatred that had only solidified over time.
