Chapter 10 - Rick #2
Content that Eva was safe, he gently closed her door, pausing on the landing before glancing back down the corridor towards Rosalia’s wing of the house.
She was waiting for him.
She hadn’t moved from beside her bed when he reached her doorway again.
He lingered for a moment at the threshold, the memory of the last time they were alone together in her room all too fresh in his mind.
With gritted teeth, he entered, careful to leave plenty of space between them, to orient his body so that she had easy access to the door, should she want it.
It was a small thing, but she was a shifter, same as him. She also ran on instinct when emotions were high.
“You wanted to talk?” he asked, keeping his arms loose at his sides.
She shifted her weight, her muscles tense, and Rick could see the silent battle she was fighting. The urge to be honest is warring with her instinct to submit.
In entirely different circumstances, Rick would be only too happy to allow her to submit to him.
But not now. Not in this.
He wanted her to feel safe enough to be herself. To speak without fearing retribution. To see his strength as a comfort, not as a threat.
An entirely selfish desire, but then again, he was a selfish male.
“I’m not entirely sure what to say,” she began, jaw set as she stared past him. “I’m sorry for how my father acted. It was entirely inappropriate of him to behave as he did. And I’m sorry if my reaction in any way offended you or impacted Eva’s birthday. I can assure you that was not my intention.”
Christ, she was polite to a fault when she was scared. A survival tactic, no doubt, but one Rick found himself resenting. She was a wolf. She didn’t need to bow or scrape or try to placate him.
“I’m not angry with you,” Rick said, “and Eva had a wonderful birthday. That isn’t the problem.”
Rosalia swallowed, eye twitching.
It seemed like he wasn’t the only one struggling to keep his emotions in check.
God, this would be so much simpler if she simply trusted him.
“What is the problem, then?”
He exhaled. “Well, your father, for one, but that can wait. Why did you tell me you were fine in the kitchen?”
She stared at him in shock, a small furrow between her brows, “Excuse me?”
“You told me you were fine. That your father’s words were nothing. You were lying.”
He had meant it as an observation, but it came out closer to an accusation, and Rosalia responded in kind.
Her fists trembled as she breathed in and out, nostrils flaring. “I wasn’t lying. I was fine. I am fine.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Rosalia.”
“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice rising, “what do you want me to say? That I was upset? Angry? Ashamed? Because I was. Any idiot can see that. But I can deal with it. I have been dealing with it. And I’m fine.”
His teeth ground together. Why did she have to be so damn stubborn? “Your father insulted my wife in my house. At my daughter’s birthday. It falls to me to deal with it. Not you.”
Two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “I said I was sorry for my father’s actions, I regret if he insulted you, but he is not yours to deal with. I’m not some…some helpless thing that you own!”
Rick reared back. “When the hell did I ever say I owned you?”
“Just now!” she practically spat. “Your house, your wife, your property.”
“That’s not owning you, Rosalia, that’s protecting you. Protecting what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours!”
“That’s not what I meant!” he yelled, stepping forwards. He half expected her to flinch, to shy away from him, and already felt the first licks of shame at his loss of control.
But she didn’t.
She bristled, standing tall, taking a step of her own towards him.
“Then what do you mean?” she hissed. “Because trust me, I’m well acquainted with alpha males who believe that females are nothing more than pretty things for them to play with and look after.
Males who think they’re so noble for offering their protection, even when it isn’t wanted or needed. ”
“Don’t compare me to the pathetic whelps that make up your home pack,” Rick snarled.
“It’s not my fault that you were raised among males who see you as lesser.
And if you’d only let me, I would show you that that’s not who I am.
And I’d protect you from those same males who throw their strength about. ”
“I never asked for your protection!”
“But it doesn’t make you weak to need it!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.
She stopped short, her chest rising and falling, her retort dying on her lips.
He realized too late that he’d struck something within her. Something deep and visceral and bloody.
Tears welled in her eyes as her breathing picked up pace, panic taking over.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, backing towards the door, “I thought I could…thought I could manage it, but…But I can’t!”
“Rosalia,” he said, striding after her as she turned and fled, “Rosalia!”
She ignored him, racing down the stairs, her white robe billowing after her.
He chased her down and out into the garden, but she was fast. And she wanted to get away from him. She wanted to run.
And he had once told her that should she decide to run, he would not stop her.
“Fuck!” he yelled into the night air, pacing a circles as she disappeared into the trees. The ripping of fabric and wrenching of bones echoed from the forest.
She had shifted.
He felt the call of it. The singing in his blood. His wolf commanded him to give chase.
He fell to his knees, fingers burying in the dirt, screwing his eyes shut.
He would not chase her. He would not hunt her down like she was some sort of animal. He would not lose control.
Fuck.
She’d finally let loose. Finally, she showed him her fire.
And God help him, he’d never wanted her more.