The Selected

His, Not His

Present Day

It's Alpha Alexander Foster, I realize, the very Alpha of the pack we are in now for this convention, that is staring me down with unwavering focus, fury riding off of him in waves. Fury, because we're mates, but I'm in nothing but a towel in a room Conrad and I share, smelling entirely like him thanks to me using his toiletries.

Conrad went to take another step towards me but was stopped by Alexander, who grabbed his arm faster than many eyes could even track as he growled out lowly, "Mine."

Connie's head snapped to me so fast he could've given himself whiplash from it. His eyes were wide in surprise, shock, fear, worry-- it seemed like he'd gone through the seven stages of grief right before my very eyes. I imagined I just looked like a dear in the headlights.

Alexander's grip tightened the longer Conrad looked at me, so he turned back to face him, "Alexander, you've got the completely wrong idea here. This is Adelaide, my Pack Warrior."

The wrong idea being Connie and I in a relationship together, likely sexual with how much I smelled like him from traveling with him the past few days and sharing a room and bed back at the Phoenix Pack.

But his statement only drew Alexander's eyes back to mine, and the reality and gravity of the situation seemed to hit then. It felt like some sick, sadistic joke, especially with everything going on in my life right now with the hunters arriving. I mean, I'm 22 years old and I finally meet my mate, and this is how? Standing nearly naked and caught completely off guard, smelling like another man?

He's gorgeous, and there's no issue in my attraction towards him, with those green eyes sparking with rage, dark brown hair that looked like it might be getting too long, and that furious expression on his face. The problem is that I can't fucking do this; not now, not ever.

So I do what I do best and shut it all out by walking back into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind me, turning the lock. I sat there on the ground, bringing my knees tight to my chest as I hugged them, trying and failing to tune them out.

"Move," Alexander snarled, and I assumed Conrad was currently blocking him from the bathroom door.

Conrad responded, "She'll see you when she's ready, but not now."

I closed my eyes, the recently all-to-familiar feelings of weakness closing in on me. My throat constricted and I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes like small pinpricks. It's just a sick joke, I reassured myself, it has to be.

Because I had long ago accepted the fact that I didn't have a mate, that the Moon Goddess couldn't be that cruel. So I'd sworn off love, even the premise of it, so I never had to risk feeling the pain of everything--of what happened to me-- all over again. It was why I gave in to pleasure seeking and running myself so far into the ground in my training that I didn't even have a thought to spare on it all.

But I guess cruel fate had other plans, and here she was, knocking on my door.

"You will not keep me from my mate!"

"I'm not keeping you from her," Conrad tried to reason, "she walked in there of her own volition, I'm just supporting her actions and decision. You want to talk to her, fine, but you'll wait until she's ready."

Alexander growled lowly, "You have the audacity to stand there and tell me no, when I've waited years for her, when I can smell you all over her? Move aside!"

"No."

Something shattered, and I squeezed my eyes shut once more, my fists clenching along with them. Too much, it was all too much and I can't fucking take this right now. My breathing accelerated and I stopped listening to whatever they were saying in the bedroom as I instead focusing on not hyperventilating in this very moment.

The panic had me gripped so tightly in its claws that all I could think of is everything that's bad, everything that can and likely will go wrong.

He'll hate me, that whispered thought threatens to tear me apart completely and a single tear escapes before I wipe it away.

I scold myself, Don't be weak. And then I repeat it in my head as a mantra, rocking myself slightly as I stay in a ball on the floor of the bathroom. Don't be weak. Don't be weak. Don't be weak.

The sound of a door slamming, followed by rattling on the walls from the force of the slam, reaches my ears, and I only know it was Alexander leaving when Conrad knocks lightly on the bathroom door, his voice soft as he calls my name, "Addie, please come out. We need to talk about this."

Shaking my head, I stayed rooted to my spot on the ground.

"Addie, please."

I gave myself another five minutes or so until I managed to stand up. I cataloged myself in the mirror, still wrapped in my towel, my hair now nearly dry. My gray-blue eyes looked a bit more blue than normal thanks to the redness the unspilled tears brought on. More importantly, there was a haunted look in my eyes, one I knew had been lurking since the moment I found that hunter in the forest a week ago. A look that was because of my past, of my history.

Ripping the door open like a bandage, I found Conrad waiting there and he spoke softly, "Hey, let's talk."

"I have nothing to say," my voice was flat, cold and detached. I ignored his frown as I pulled out pajamas and changed, crawling into bed without another word.

The lights were still on as I tucked myself underneath the covers. I closed my eyes, praying to whatever gods might be listening, might be willing to grant my wish, that this was all some fucked up nightmare. That I would wake up tomorrow and things would be better.

Because I really didn't think life could be this cruel.