Captivated, Cursed: Alpha Linc | 18+

Episode 17

Lincoln's POV

I should have kissed her. Why didn't I kiss her?

All I can think about are her lips. She leaned in, I felt it.

After running away like a coward, I didn't sleep the whole night. My wolf wants her, I want her, in a way that I shouldn't. I don't get to have this, I don't get to have her.

I'm the King, an authority figure to her. I can't just kiss people. She is young and subjectable to allow my actions not because she wants them but because of my power and position.

She just suffered a huge loss. I can't take advantage. She's dealing with trauma. Her emotional state isn't steady enough to have these kinds of emotions thrown at her on top of everything else.

I was right not to kiss her, I tell myself over and over again.

When I ran by, she wasn't in the window. I knew she wouldn't be, not after I left her there. Part of me hoped that she didn't actually lean in but that is my desire for her, I had imagined it, that way there would be no embarrassment on her part.

I'll have to talk to her, somehow, to make her understand that all of this is my fault.

Walking into the kitchen to make breakfast I feel unusually low. Even on a bad day, when everything feels too heavy, I can relax here. Today, this room is filled with the reminder of an almost kiss and the memory of her laugh. The smell of apples and sugar still hangs in the air.

The tart tatin is wrapped up on the counter. Sitting there taunting me, a stupid, delicious reminder of my mistake. I move around it, like it will burn me if I touch it. The unmistakable carbonized smell of smoke draws my attention to the stove where breakfast is burning.

I angrily hurl the pan in the sink and start again, placing strips of bacon in a new pan.

My eyes wander to the counter where we sat last night, where she took my hand in her small, soft one, and told me that I'm not the villain. Maggie has been saying that for years, trying to convince me that a mistake, albeit a catastrophic one, doesn't make me a bad person. She can't possibly understand, neither of them can. The weight of what I've done, and the guilt eats at me, slowly tearing me apart, making me unsuitable for anyone, unable to give a heart that is only half beating.

When the smoky smell of overcooked bacon hits my nose I jerk the pan off of the stove and throw it with as much force as I can muster out the patio door. It lands in the grass as I slam the door closed.

Giving up on breakfast I storm into my office, slamming the door behind me like a petulant child. My fingers tap roughly against my keyboard as I type unnecessarily scathing replies to emails.

A rumbling knock on my door sets my heart beating wildly. I'm not sure why, I know it's not her.

"Come in," I call, and Luke steps inside.

"Morning," he nods, "Vic is here."

I pull myself to stand, I wasn't expecting him today.

"Not for you, he's with Josephine."

"I...oh," I sit, awkwardly clearing my throat, "what does he want?"

"He's showing her pictures of different witches and warlocks that might have been involved, hoping she can recognize some of them."

I hum quietly, trying to appear aloof and uninterested. I want to go down there and make sure she's alright. I'm sure she doesn't want to see me.

"Um... this morning, on the security footage, I saw you... are you alright?" He is hesitant to ask. One of my favorite things about Luke is that he always minds his own business, he doesn't push or overstep.