Changeling (Completed)

Day Fourteen

Day Fourteen - Sixteen days left

Ronson has left me in here for four days. Four days and I only have sixteen left! The door creaks open and I turn my back, wrapped up in one of the comforters up to my chin.

"Innie, don't ignore me," he says softly.

I say nothing.

"It's time to eat, baby."

I maintain my dignified silence.

"Innie, the southern alpha has agreed that the arsonist must be a rogue. He's pulled his patrols. He's afraid of upsetting me."

I sniff derisively and bury my face in the comforter. OK, so maybe my silence isn't dignified.

"Don't make me fart in here and shut the door."

"You're sick!" I pounce on him, slapping his chest. "A sick jerk! I want out of here right now, Ronson! You sit in your own fumes!"

He laughs and hugs me to his chest. I suck in my breath, my eyelashes fluttering. I refuse to be a silly little girl who swoons over his hard muscles. Wolfie does that enough for us both.

"Tell me you don't hate me," he commands. He lifts me into his arms and nuzzles my cheek with his nose.

"I hate you a little." I am not ready to forgive even if he acts like a sweet, adoring puppy. This man is too complicated to forgive and trust so easily.

"Do you love me a little, too?" he asks. "Innie," he whispers in my ear. "Do you love me?"

"Hmm," I respond. I don't know how to respond. He was sweet to little captive me over the last three days. Don't get me wrong, I still want to crush his balls in a vice, but even Wolfie was impressed with his restraint with me.

She was overjoyed when Shana ranted for three hours outside the suite's door about not being allowed inside due to "the runt whore." Ronson defended us again and I could feel her gentle Wolfie heart fall even more in love with the idiot.

"How much do you love me?" he whispers.

I scoff. "This much," I hold my fingers apart by an inch.

He raises an eyebrow. "What if I told you that you don't have to stay in the closet anymore?"

"This much," I widen my fingers a fraction.

He grinned from our game and I had to tamp down my own smile. He wants reassurances, but I'm not done here, not quite. Shana's still here. She's the thorn in Wolfie's paw and somehow I need to find a way to yank it out.

"C'mon, Innie. You refused to even go outside with me yesterday and get some fresh air. This is unhealthy for you."

"I was napping," I reply grumpily. The truth is that both Wolfie and I like that damn, stupid closet. It feels cozy and safe, not that I'll ever admit it outloud.

"I want you out here," he says firmly. "I want to go to sleep with you next to me. I hate having you so close and not touching you."

"Yeah, how's that working for you?" He had cleaned the suite himself and spent hours coaxing me into eating. All thoughts of my being with him to get revenge seemed to have flown out of his little doggie mind.

"Get in the bed, Innie."

Of course, I pounce on him as soon as he crawls in next to me. I have a lot of pent-up energy, what can I say?

He smiles blissfully up at me as I sink myself down on him, rocking my body back and forth.

"Goddess, you're beautiful," he breathes. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, the soft browns are warm as they travel my face.

Just as he surges his hips upward into me, his great body shuddering in climax, he whispers, "I love you, Innie."

I pretend I don't hear him.

Ronson brought the entire pack to the house. I have no idea why. There are about forty of them and he decided to let them all move in, "temporarily." Then, he spends all day telling them to be quiet so that I can concentrate on my journal of awesomeness.

What a wierdo, am I right?

While we're on the subject of fart fumes... Goon (Garth the Beta for those of you who don't remember... or care) has taken over the job of ordering food. Grocery deliveries now include things like spinach and broccoli and enough beans to make the entire house leave its foundation in a cloud of noxious gas. I mean, who buys beans when we're all crammed in here like furry sardines? Why?

Sigh.

Love,

Innie