Alpha Isaiah ✔️

THIRTY THREE

Word Count: 2256

~Avia

I stare up at the ceiling, thinking about Isaiah.

I've found my mate, and the effects of it are already hitting me. When I first learned what mates were, I didn't think that when I found them, I wouldn't want to drop everything in my life to be with them. So now, the mental and physical symptoms of avoiding my mate are starting to weigh down upon me.

For the past few days, I've done everything in my power not to cross paths with him, and now I feel perpetually unwell. It's not overwhelming, but it's noticeable, buried deep inside me, curling up uncomfortably within me.

I can't avoid him. It's that simple.

Pulling the sheets off my legs, I yawn, tired of being kept up late at night by all of my thoughts. I need to see him, to clear this weight off my chest. Even if it's for a moment, just to see his face. Maybe it will make me feel better.

Padding down the hallway, I make it to the other wing of the house with little interruption, knocking on Isaiah's bedroom door quietly.

It takes him some time to open the door, and when he does, it's obvious I woke him.

He blinks blearily as he rubs his eyes. His dark hair is mussed about, his clothing unkempt, which consists only of a loose pair of pants. Otherwise he's shirtless, my gaze dipping low enough to drink in the sight of his muscled abdomen, the low hallway light casting shadows against every contour of him.

His dazed confusion seems to vanish in an instance between seeing me. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry it's late, but I need to talk to you," I tell him. I already feel overwhelmingly better upon seeing him, upon being in such close proximity to him again.

He steps back. "Of course, come in."

I wander into his room, noting his covers strewn about from having been woken up in the middle of the night. Shivering, I keep well away from the bed, unsure of my own ability to hold myself accountable.

"Are you sure you're okay, Kenna? You look like ill," Isaiah notes, sitting on the edge of his bed. I hate how concerned he looks, because that means he cares for me, and I don't think I can handle thinking about that right now.

"I should never have come here," I whisper, looking down at my feet.

He frowns. "What, why not?"

"Because what is going on between us is wrong," I murmur, scared to look up to see his expression. I know it would be intense, and I know not in a good enough headspace to look too deeply into his eyes right now. "I mean...This will never work."

He exhales slowly from his nose. "Come here Kenna. Come sit with me."

I stare at the spot next to him on the bed, considering it. Instead of doing as he says, i start pacing back and forth, needing to keep moving so I don't go and say something I may regret. This mate bond is seriously messing with my head, physically trying to lure me into Isaiah's arms so we can accept the bond.

"No, because what would happen if we kissed? Or did more? Nothing can ever happen between us," I tell him firmly, although it's clear I'm trying to convince myself more than anything.

"I don't want it to be like that. I can assure you," he tells me softly, the seriousness in his tone making me stiffen. What either of us want right now doesn't matter. Both of us have perfect reasons for why we cannot be together.

I glance at him. "But it has to be, right? You're going to marry Elise."

My heart hurts just saying that. They shouldn't have to marry, since the rebellion is close to moving in. But once that happens, Isaiah won't even want to look at me again, let alone be with me as my mate.