The Alpha's Mute [BXB]

13 | chapter thirteen

Niklaus Wade

Caspian laughs slowly at first before it turns into a full blown laugh and with trembling hands, he runs his fingers through his dark brown hair.

"You're insane," Caspian whispers.

"You think I'd actually cut you with this?" Gnashton turns to look at Caspian, his hip resting on the counter by the sink with the broken glass in his hand.

"The question is do I actually think you wouldn't cut me with it," Caspian rolls his eyes, "how have you not be classified as a grade A sociopath?"

"The same way you haven't been classified as a grade A psychotic narcissist," came Gnashton.

"Cute," Caspian takes another step back.

"I'm waiting for a confession," Gnashton's feet tap on the floor slowly.

Thats when I can tell he's beginning to become restless which meant Caspian needed to fork over some type of a reply. Caspian knew this too so he shifted on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes darted to the side, the only way to exit and he could easily run and escape but running away from Gnashton was like running away from a full grown cheetah.

He's fast, his coordination is amazing so even if Caspian were to want to blend in with the thousands of people here for this birthday party, he wouldn't be able to. His smell is impeccable...oh wait. I realize how I'm here spying on them meanwhile Gnashtons smell is amazing so he—he must, he has to know I'm here but then why hasn't he come out or does he not want to? I don't get it. Does he want to get a confession out of Caspian for me? Is all of this just for me to hear?

"There's no confession to be made, I'm being serious. Why does Hazel even think I did it in the first place?" Caspian replies.

Gnashton comes close and I can see the way Caspians back stiffens. Gnashton doesn't come close to Caspian but he comes near the island and leans forward, resting his elbows on the marble counter while he lays the glass onto the counter and starts playing with his nose ring, his eyes trained on Caspians but with Gnashtons position I can see him exactly. He wears a snug fitting white t shirt that hugs his build and I watch the muscles in his arms flex and strain against the fabric of his shirt.

I see his tattoos that decorate his arms and creep up his neck and my eyes travel to all of them instantly as I'm instantly drawn to them. He lays his head on his hand and my eyes catch the tattoo of the letter N on his finger, I can't help but wonder what the meaning behind it is. Every tattoo, every piece of art on his arm and even on his chest from what I saw before looked to hold meaning and I couldn't help but want to ask him what they meant.