His shoulders were hunched, as if in defeat. He looked like someone who has lost someone dear to them.
Could it be?
But it's not possible.
How could he have been standing here for that long? It's not possible at all.
I don't believe he has been standing here for a long time now, but the faraway expression on his face made me think twice about my deduction.
His eyes seem so lost.
"Fern?" I called him, but he didn't reply. He just stood there like a statue and didn't make any move.
"Fern, are you alright?" I touch his shoulder in question, and that seemed to startle him out of whatever land his mind went to.
"Are you alright?"
"I am." He blinked as if trying to get his eyes readjusted to the light. "I was just lost in thoughts."
"I'm sorry." I bend my head in embarrassment. I wasn't counting on asking for forgiveness this night, but I figured I can as well do that now.
"Why?" He chuckled in a harsh tone, "you have nothing to apologize over. I'm the one who's supposed to apologize to you. This dog took you against your will, and forced a life that's not yours on you."
I wince at his words. The dog's words hurt to hear.
"I apologize for calling you that. I was just looking for something to defend myself with." I look down at my slippers, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. You have no reason to apologize or ask for forgiveness. I'm the one at fault, and not you."
"Can you quit saying that?" I frown at him, "it was a mistake on my part. I had a slip by calling you dog, you don't have to take it literally."
I felt like slapping him or shaking some senses into his body. The words I said aren't supposed to be used on others, especially not Werewolves, but that doesn't guarantee the way he talked.
"I'll have dinner prepared soon. Go and take a bath, you stink." He wrinkled his nose in disgust, "you smell like trash."
"Thanks for calling me that," I walk towards him, and rubbed my body on him.
"What are you doing!" He takes a step back. His breathing became surprisingly irregular, and his eyes dilated a bit.
I roll my eyes at him, "what do you think I'm going? Of course, I'm rubbing my stinking scent on you."
"Do you know what that means?" He takes a step back as if I kicked him, or something like that.
"Of course, I do. I don't think you mind?" Honestly, I forgot what rubbing your scent on another meant, when I rubbed mine on him.
As werewolves, rubbing our scent on another is like foreplay. Werewolves rub their scents on their mate to tell others to back up. It's a possessive instinct in us.
"So, are you claiming me?" He raised a brow.
"Says who?" I gave him a once over, "you are not a female." I purse my lips, "you are not beautiful, neither are you cute nor small."
And this is where the problem comes in. Before this rogue Alpha in front of me, I'd always loved females. Especially those beautiful, petite ones I can cocoon in my warmth. But now, I have a forbidden fantasy, and it revolves around this rogue.
With him, I feel as if something is tugging me to him. The feeling is indescribable, and it's one I can't seem to beat off, no matter how hard I try.
"You seem to love the little ones." He frowned, "sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not petite, neither am I beautiful." He turned and started walking towards the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" I called out to him.
"Someone needs to prepare dinner, and, I'm certain, you are not among someone." He waved, "go and take a bath. You stink."
"All the more reason why I don't need to take a bath." I smirk, "I'll frustrate you with my stinking body."
"Go ahead."
"I'm not bathing." I called out as I stubbornly fold my arm, "I'm waiting out here for dinner."
" Then it's better. I love your scent. You smell raw and appetizing. I wish you never take a bath again. The dirtier, the attractive you become."
"Yuck," I almost vomited at his words, "I'm going to take a bath. Wouldn't want any creepy rogue Alpha to scent me all day." I walk towards my room.
"You are going to take a bath? What happened? Why did you change your mind?"
"Ask your creepy self."
*
*
"Something smells amazing." I smile when I walked into the dining.
"That's why it's good to know how to cook, so your food can smell so appetizing." Fern motioned to my chair which is opposite his, "sit, and let's eat."
"When did you change your clothes?" I gave his shorts and larger than life Polo a look.
"Unlike someone I know, I don't take long when bathing." He pursed his lips.
"Are you talking about me?" I frown at him.
"Of course, not. Why should I talk about you? I'm talking about someone I know. Do you by chance know the person?"
"I don't." I walk over to my chair and sat down, disappointed. I was hoping he'll ask me to sit on his lap.
"You look ready to murder, what's wrong?"
You are.
I wanted to shout, but instead, I bite my tongue.
"Nothing," I rub my hand in Glee. "So, should we start?"
I didn't wait for his approval at all. I opened the covered plates and took a sniff of the food.
"This smells so appetizing, I feel like eating it all." I smile at him, "you are indeed a good cook, you know that, right?"
"Of course, I do." He smirked, "you don't have to tell me how good I am when I already know that. It's like old news to me."
" Egoistical, much?" I scoff, "The food smells okay, but what's to say it tastes the same as they smell."