His Queen

Chapter 6 : Upside Down

My eyes find dark stormy blue ones as my breath catches in my chest. My heart beats a mile a minute. Thump. Thump. Thump. I can feel each thud in my head, echoing around my brain.

My wolf howls in joy as I behold the 6'4 male specimen in all of his glory standing less than 5 feet away from me. His pitch-black locks of hair are cut close on the sides and left longer on the top allowing a stray curl to dip onto his forehead. His skin is golden from hours under the sun. He towers over me in an appealing way. Oh gosh. Oh gosh.

He looks me in the eyes and then it all clicks. It's like suddenly my body and mind have been completed. The last piece of a puzzle has been put into place. I feel 'alive'. A sudden unexplainable clarity comes over me in record time.

This man, this male werewolf, in front of me, is my mate.

My wolf starts yipping in excitement but I shut her up. Not only is this my mate, but he is also the man who called me a filthy rouge and threatened to kill me. No way will I throw that to the side just because he is my mate.

'Respect can't be given if it is not first earned.'

I school my face back into a scowl and face my new mate head-on. I notice Jonathan standing slightly behind him watching our encounter nervously. I don't blame him. The masculine energy that radiates around us is much too smothering.

"Do not speak to me like that," I growl angrily, and my wolf whimpers at my words to our mate. Screw her.

This only seems to anger my mate more and I noticed his hands fist as he starts to shake with anger. A loud growl rips from his mouth and I can't help but wonder what else those lips could—

I stop my train of thought and immediately growl back at him. I challenge his dominance with my own rage. We are fire and water. We are hot and cold. My mate and I are two very independent people with no bone in us made to follow another. I will not submit to him and neither him to me.

He slowly stalks forward and my breath catches as he reaches out to touch me. Just as his hand meets my skin sparks erupt all across my body like fireworks. My mates eyes become pitch black and he meets my skin with his rough fingertips. I want to moan in pleasure but soon I find myself being thrown against a wall. Hard. My wolf whines in pain as a gash opens up on my forehead. My body slides down to the floor and I lean my back against the wall while I process what just happened.

I feel fresh blood start to work its way down the side of my face. It hurts but not enough for me to cry out in pain. I will not give anybody that satisfaction.

I lift my watering eyes to my attacker and find him turned away from me. All I can see is his muscled back that isn't hidden well underneath his tight shirt. A conflicted growl reverberates around him. It's confusing. Almost as if he is also at war with his wolf. 

"Show some respect rouge! You are on my packs land and I am the alpha. Your life rests in my hands. Behave or you might not see the next day." He says still without facing me, "lock her up in the jail. Maybe a few days of confinement will teach her some manners." He turns to tell Jonathan. Jonathan gaps at my mate and seems to be frozen in the corner for more than a few seconds before hesitantly walking towards me.

My wolf howls in betrayal and sorrow at our mate's clear disregard for our connection. To be honest I expected better. Werewolves are severely protective of their mates the minute they lay eyes on them. Every so often mates will not get along and they will reject each other but never in all of my life have a heard of mates locking the other in a pack prison. It hurts my heart that this beautiful beast is ignoring me completely. That he already hates me so much that he hurt me.