Damsel in Control (18+ Only) - The Rogue Pack

Chapter 42

Smut alert!!! Hope you all enjoy xxx

Despite my best intentions, I'm back in Ktukda, standing impatiently in front of Adina's house. I'd promised myself that I would try to keep some distance, try to give us some space in order to ensure that this relationship remained healthy. But then she'd messaged me, and all of my resolve had instantly flown out of the window. It doesn't help that I'm considering leaving West Terre Haute, and therefore potentially abandoning her for good. It just means I'm desperate to spend every second I can exploring this new aspect of my life.

After that interaction with Rodrigo, my days have been spent living in fear. It doesn't matter that I chose to fight back this time around or that I stood up for myself. I can still remember how easily he got to me back when we were dating and I know that he is a threat to be taken seriously. I don't think he would personally harm me, but for him to send someone after me to silently take my life? Well it would solve his problem and I wouldn't put it past him. In fact, it would be amazing for his reputation. The poor little Alpha who lost his true mate too soon but is fighting to be allowed to love again. People would lap it up.

So now I'm living in fear, lying in wait for Rodrigo's next threat. I think that I will always fear him, just a little. I will fear how much he knows, how much he was able to control me. I'd forgotten how horrible it was, this fear. Much worse than the fear of something I can see. The fear of the unknown. It was like this when I first ran away, constantly looking over my shoulder, terrified that I was being followed, being chased, being watched. It was almost worse than actually being with Rodrigo where I could see the source of my fear. I gradually forgot though, learning to live my new life. But now that it's back, I'm desperate to do something about it.

Finally Adina opens the door, and instantly her face dissolves into that disarming smile that makes all of my worries evaporate. Her loose dress is long and flowy, the thin spaghetti straps showing off her curved collarbones and elegant poise. I sigh, taking her all in, and she rolls her eyes at my practically teenage-like horniness.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a snack." She grumbles, but the tone is light-hearted and I can tell that she loves every second of my obsession over her. She's not much better, her eyes raking across my exposed cleavage, my shirt artistically unbuttoned to leave just enough to the imagination.

"I'm sorry. I meant to look at you like you were a whole meal." I reply cheekily, stepping into the small house as I do. The second the door is closed, I pull her into me, burying my face in the soft scent of her neck. She hugs me back, but doesn't melt in the way I have come to expect which I'm assuming means she actually does want to talk, as her message had suggested. I drop a brief kiss onto her forehead before reluctantly releasing her, dropping with a loud sigh onto the nearby sofa.

After Rodrigo had left, I stayed up all night chatting to Saul. Talking about Adina, about my past, about this god-forsaken wedding that is keeping me awake at night. I know I shouldn't care. Shouldn't give a fuck about my abusive ex moving on. But I do. I care because I can't help but wonder why it isn't with me. Not because I want to marry him, but because if he is able to be with someone in a way that would make them willing to marry him, if he is able to be nice to a woman, then why couldn't that woman have been me? Why was it that with me he was an asshole, but with someone else he can be nice and gentle? It makes me worry incessantly, terrified that maybe I was at fault during our relationship, or worry that maybe his future wife is living a life like I did. And if either of those things are true, then surely I should go to this wedding?

Adina plops down onto the sofa beside me, before lowering her head into my lap, her legs automatically curling up as she gets comfy. I stroke her hair absentmindedly, my hand wrapping itself into her soft curls. She shifts again, uncomfortable in her position, although whether it is a physical or an emotional discomfort I'm not sure. Lifting her hair up lightly, I push my hand deeper into the coppery mass, fingertips softly massaging her scalp. She hums in contentment, settling slightly.