The Alpha's Daydream ✔️

Chapter 50

3106 words

I am shocked by his words, though I should have been expecting them. It seems Malachi hasn't let go of this intense disapproval of my actions.

"Is that how you see it? That it's all because of me? An Alpha and his command can't fight against a small group of rogues, and suddenly it's all my fault?" I realise my argument may not be so reasonable, but neither is his.

"Did you or did you not tell them where I was? The mission I didn't even want to tell you about, but I did. I thought, I should trust Ariella with this at least. Then you go and prove me wrong by selling me out to the enemy." His eyes flash, but his voice remains low and controlled. We are both conscious of the sleeping pup not three meters from where we stand.

I meet Malachi's gaze and pointedly walk out of the room, padding to the office down the hall.

"You were somewhere between here and the Justice Pack, that's all I knew," I begin again. "That is countless miles of land area, so was I really giving much away to the rogues?"

"You gave into them!" he pounds one fist into the other, showing me a small fraction of his frustration and hurt. "I don't care how small it may have been this time, you gave into their demands and next time it will be worse. Now they all know you are a weak pushover."

"Is that what you really think of me?" I raise my eyebrows in opposition to the sinking of my heart. "That I'm just weak and pathetic? I knew how strong you and your men were! I believed you could handle them—" my words stutter to a stop when I see him come close to rolling his eyes. "You know what? I don't even know why we're discussing this. The fact of the matter is, I saved Alpha Chesca who was defenceless, in labour, and giving birth in the middle of some cold, God-forsaken wasteland riddled with killer rogues."

With newfound determination, I meet his gaze and refuse to be ridiculed for the good I did last night. "I protected her and Hunter. I saved their lives."

"At what cost?" He interrupts, stepping closer to me and I can feel his warm breath coast along my face. "My men and I were ambushed. Attacked. We didn't all make it out alive."

"You fought your hardest! What more could have been done?" Backing up as he advances, I'm only vaguely conscious of the wall that greets my back.

"Did I? Did I fight? There is a monster inside me that could've torn them all to shreds with a snap of my fingers." He raises a hand and clicks his fingers, but despite the predatory gleam in his eyes, I don't think this 'monster' inside him is as bad as he makes out. It's not some entity beside him that takes over when it chooses. As much as I hate to concede, I think it is entwined with his soul, along with the will of an angel.

"So why didn't you? Why didn't you use this monster to your advantage?"

"Seriously? You're saying I should've just let loose and slain them all?"

"If you killed the rogues who attacked you first, what's so bad—"

"Who said I would've stopped there? What if I turned on my own men and killed them too?" He looks at me, filled with self-doubt and restraint. I can tell he fears his own strength, his own inability to command it at will.

"You would never do that. You told me yourself that you've only hurt those who deserve it. Perverts. Molesters. Killers."

"That's when I'm in control. When I have a semblance of control," he amends. "I can't just control it like that so easily. It's like I'm a completely different person and I have no idea what I'm doing. Don't you remember, I told you that too?"

After throwing me an exasperated glance, he walks to a small side table and lifts a crystal bottle, then fills a glass with the amber liquid inside. In one swift motion, he throws his head back and swallows the drink in a few hasty gulps. The scent of the strong alcohol fills the room and dizzies my senses, causing me to narrow my eyes on him in concern.