MTM.30

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a kiss

"I'm not scared of you, I'm really not. But, everything you do, everything you have done, that is what scares me the most," my voice grew quiet with each word I spoke, and I regretted them as soon as they were said. "I feel like my whole life is changing right in front of me, and I don't know what to do about it."

Safe. Unsafe. Safe. Unsafe. Safe. Unsafe. The process drives me around in circles. How do I truly feel?

Morpheus stayed planted into the hardwood floor, as though he belonged there, in my clutch. He had cradled himself into my waist like no one has ever done before, and had wrapped his strong arms around my form until my entire lower half had disappeared under him.

Oh, sugar, I felt like the Alpha.

There was no denying the obvious. I took my history classes, my mother was the teacher, and I had listened to Viviana study the ways of the wolf for many, many years. Way before she even met Max. Who was there to quiz her? Moi. Who was there to accompany her when she snuck off to watch the pack train or race with each other on the forest trails? Ég. Who was her support when she had to break it to her parents that she could no longer stay with them? Ich. And, who cared for her when her parents forced her to choose between him and them? Tôi.

It was all me.

This was the declared greatest part about being a mate. To Viviana, this was an Alpha exposing the most vulnerable side of himself to his other half, it was a big deal. I've been nothing but a bother to him this whole time, and the first thing he does when he comes home is let me guard his open back. She used to waste the nights away, raving on and on about how mates were the best thing on earth. Every year on her birthday, ever since she found out cooties didn't actually exist, she blew out her candles with the wish of getting her very own mate. And, yes, of course the thought of having one crossed my mind a few times, but if you asked me months ago what I would be doing right now the answer would not be what is happening.

It wasn't me that was stuck to the floor, bowing to him, instead it was the opposite. Morpheus had purposely placed me in front of him as though I had all the power in the whole wide world. His power. His control. His authority. All in the palm of my hand. The sudden understanding painted a vivid mental image of what was supposed to happen when mates meet.

The new view of things had me tangling my fingers through the thick locks of his hair, and pulling his head even closer towards me, the only response given was a low sigh of relief. Other than that, he had done nothing. Absolutely nothing. The only recognition that he was still there was the warm air blowing across my thigh, and the strangely reassuring weight resting on my legs, not to mention how the top of his head was pressing against my heavy chest. How is that comfortable? Can he breathe? What am I thinking, of course he can! He can, right? I took a short peek down at his face, and noticed how his head was clearly turned to the side. A content smile on his lips, and it was contagious. Why does he look so happy?

Because it's me. I had answered my own question as soon as I thought of it.

"I was never meant for something like this." As much as I knew that it was not the time for a confession, I had already started, and worry was itching at me like a mosquito. "This type of thing was meant for someone else, someone better and stronger, someone like Viviana or-or-"

"Stop talking." The growl reverberated against my stubby body. Too bad, though, because my stomach was turning and churning, and there was no closing my big mouth.

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