His Lover, My Mate

Thirty-Two: Smile

I know, I haven't been giving you long chapters lately. This one isn't that short, I promise!

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*Aletha*

Aletha didn't really like company. She'd rather be left alone, away from the crowd and away from all those eyes. Now she was the center of attention, and people watched her with flickers of judgement. They still remembered that she'd once ran away, and they didn't know how to respond to her anymore. Should they respect her or should they hate her?

Rush had assured her that they still loved her, but she knew she at least made them uncomfortable. Well...she was also uncomfortable.

She looked around, wondering what she should do. If she stepped further inside, more heads would turn. More whispers would ensue. More derogative snickers behind her back.

Was she really their Luna?

She hardened at the thought. Maybe they didn't believe in her anymore.

Sirka came behind her. "You need to smile," she told her very quietly. "They need to feel accepted by you. Many don't."

"I'm not a happy person," Aletha told her. "It's hard for me to smile anymore." It was true. She always felt this looming sadness over her conscience. Starting from the day she was kidnapped and raped, she only felt hopelessness and desperation. Even when Lucien sheltered her, she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong with her. Something inside of her had torn when she was mutilated and maimed, and she didn't think she was completely over it. Maybe she would never be over it. She just didn't know how Rush did it. How was he always so...carefree? He did have his guards up, but he was easygoing, like nothing mattered to him anymore.

"You are their Luna," Sirka told her sternly. "You have to make them believe in you."

"Okay," said Aletha, her head spinning. Sirka was right, she did need to do something. Her eyes roamed around until she spotted something red. There were hundreds of glasses of them. Blood.

Sirka noticed where she was staring, and she began to scoff. "Really? You can't even stand the sight of it and you're planning to drink the damn thing?"

Aletha tilted her head to the side, raising her brow. "What, you think I'm that weak? You made so much blood come out of my body that I think I'm used to it by now."

Sirka gave her a shrug. "Well, who knew your body could be so frail? Damn, just a little pinch and you start bruising."

"I've been told since I was a child that I was anemic," Aletha explained. Sirka did train her harshly, but she never put Aletha at risk of intentional harm. Harsh battle was Sirka's style, and Aletha did notice a change in her body. She'd pressed her fingers against her arms and legs and noticed that they were firmer. Rush had told her she'd gained more muscle mass.

"Is that so," Sirka muttered before strolling toward the table and grabbing two glasses of blood. She strolled right back toward the doorway and handed her a glass. "A little blood will help fix the problem if you lack it."

Aletha looked at the thick red liquid. She only smelled its metallic scent, not the enticing aroma vampires talked about. She only imagined dead people's blood being collected in barrels and distributed to rich families. The thought made bile rise to her throat.

"Relax, no one was harmed or killed when we obtained the blood. Many people voluntarily offer blood from their palms, especially for their Alpha. We want our Alpha to only drink the best quality blood, so animal blood can't do." Sirka nudged her shoulder. "Now drink up. It'll be good for you."