Chapter 10
Derek's
I felt like I was trapped behind a thick sheet of glass. I could see everything that was happening, but I couldn't move or speak. I was a prisoner inside my own mind while someone else took control of my body. My wolf, Thorne, had completely taken over. Through his eyes, I saw Ema pinned down against the mattress. Our hands—Thorne's hands—were gripping her clothes, ready to tear them away. His mouth was right next to her neck. He was seconds away from biting her, from marking her and binding our souls together forever. The bond between us was screaming for it to happen. Inside my head, the wolf was howling in triumph. He thought he had finally won.
But I saw her face. I didn't see a mate who was ready to be claimed. I saw a girl who was filled with pure terror. Her eyes were wide and filled with a fear so deep it made my chest ache. The tears were falling freely now, soaking into the pillow beneath her head. Her entire body was shaking under the weight of a man who looked like me, but was acting like a monster.
Shame hit me first. It was a heavy, sharp feeling that cut through Thorne's excitement. Then came the rage. I was furious with my wolf for terrifying her like this. I began to fight back. I clawed at the walls of my own mind, pushing against Thorne with every bit of strength I had left. I shouted at him inside my skull, my voice echoing through our shared consciousness.
Stop it! I screamed. She isn't ready for this! This isn't how a mate should be treated!
Thorne snarled back at me. His voice was a dark, animalistic vibration. She is ours! She belongs to us! Stop fighting me!
I didn't stop. I pushed harder. I focused on Ema's face and the way she was sobbing. I used my guilt and my anger as a weapon. I felt the shift begin to reverse. It was an agonizing process. Pain tore through my arms and chest as my bones shifted back into place and my muscles tightened. Control finally snapped back into my hands. The red glow in my vision started to fade away, and the world became clear again.
I let go of her and scrambled off the bed. I dropped to my knees on the floor, my breath coming in broken, uneven gasps. I felt weak, but I was back in charge.
I slowly lifted my head to look at her. Ema had moved as far away as she could. she was curled into a tight ball at the far end of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was staring at me with those wide, wet eyes. She looked like she expected me to jump back onto the bed and attack her again at any second.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
The words felt weak and hollow. They were just bare sounds in the quiet room. I wanted to reach out to her, to tell her I was sorry, but I knew I couldn't.
She didn't answer me. She didn't even move. She just kept staring at me with that look of total horror.
I stood up slowly, trying to show her I wasn't going to hurt her. I took one small step toward the bed.
She flinched violently. She pressed her back against the headboard until she couldn't move any further. She didn't say a word. There was just the sound of her heavy breathing and the visible fear on her face.
Guilt twisted deep in my stomach. I realized that I was the source of that fear. I was the monster in her story. I stopped moving and just stood there for a moment. I felt useless and completely furious with myself. I didn't know how to fix this, so I did the only thing I could. I turned around and walked out of the room.
I walked down the hallway without really thinking about where I was going. I reached my office and stepped inside. I grabbed the heavy door and slammed it shut. I hit it so hard that the walls of the room actually shook.
Then, I lost control. All the anger I had been holding back came pouring out. I let out a loud roar and swept my arm across my wooden desk. Papers flew into the air like white birds. My glass pen holder hit the wall and shattered into tiny pieces. I heard wood crack as items hit the ground.
"Why?" I shouted at the empty room. I was really shouting at Thorne. "Why did you do that? Didn't you see her face? She was absolutely terrified of us!"
For a moment, there was nothing but silence inside my head. Then, Thorne's voice answered me. He sounded calm and completely unapologetic about what he had done.
I was simply claiming what belongs to us, he said. You are too weak to do what needs to be done.
"Weak?" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. I felt a surge of energy and grabbed a wooden chair. I threw it across the room with all my might. It hit the wall and splintered into pieces of scrap wood. "You almost broke her, Thorne. That isn't claiming a mate. That's destroying one."
The office door opened quietly. Marcus stepped inside, his eyes moving over the mess I had made on the floor. He didn't look surprised to see the damage. He knew how my temper worked.
"Alpha?" he asked softly.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heart rate. I looked at him, my jaw tight.
"Take Ema shopping," I said. The words came out sharp and fast.
Marcus blinked in surprise. "Now? It's getting late."
"Yes. Right now," I replied. I felt a desperate need to do something for her, even if it was something small. "Take her to the mall. Let her choose whatever she wants. I don't care about the cost. Clothes, books, shoes... anything she asks for. Just make sure you don't leave her side for a single second."
Marcus nodded. He understood that this was my way of trying to apologize without using words. "Understood, Alpha. I'll take her now."
He left the room, and I was alone again. I stood there in the middle of the wreckage of my office, breathing hard. The anger was still burning in my chest, but the regret was burning even deeper. I hated that she was scared of me.
Hours passed as I waited for them to return. Night fell, and the house grew quiet. I went to the large window in my office and watched the driveway. Finally, the lights of the SUV appeared. The vehicle pulled in and came to a stop. I watched as Marcus stepped out of the driver's side first.
Then Ema got out. She moved very slowly. She was holding several shopping bags in her hands. Her shoulders were drawn in, and she kept her head down. Even from this distance, I could see that she was still shaken. Her body language told me everything I needed to know. She still felt like a prisoner.
I hated myself for that. I wanted her to feel safe, but I was the one who had taken her safety away.
Later that night, I sat in the living room. I didn't turn on any lights. I just sat in the dark, watching the red tip of my cigar glow. The door opened, and Marcus walked in.
"How did it go?" I asked. I didn't look at him.
"It went fine," he said. "She got the things she needed. She didn't say much during the trip."
I turned my head to look at him. I could tell he was holding something back. "Fine isn't the whole story, Marcus. Tell me what happened."
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I looked away for half a minute to check my phone. While my back was turned, some guy at the mall grabbed her arm. He cornered her near one of the stores."
My entire body went tight. I felt the wolf growl deep in my chest.
"What happened next?"
"I stopped it immediately," Marcus said. "I stepped in before he could do anything else. He won't be bothering her or anyone else ever again."
A fresh wave of anger surged through me. It was different from the anger I felt at myself. This was a protective rage. "Bring him to me," I said. My voice was low and cold.
Marcus hesitated for a second, probably thinking about the consequences. Then he gave a short nod and left the room.
A few hours later, the living room door opened again. Two of my men dragged a man inside. They dropped him onto his knees on the hard floor right in front of my chair. The man was covered in bruises and he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. He could barely hold himself upright.
I stood up slowly and walked over to him. I looked down at him, feeling no pity at all.
"You touched something that belongs to me," I said. Every word was like a piece of ice.
The man shook his head frantically. "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know she was with you! Please, I was just talking to her."
"You didn't just talk to her," I said. "You put your hands on her. You scared her when she was already having the worst day of her life."
The man began to beg for his life. He cried and made excuses, but I wasn't listening. I reached into the back of my waistband and pulled out my gun. I raised the weapon until it was pointed directly at him.
There was a single, loud sound that echoed through the house.
When it was over, I lowered my hand. My expression didn't change. I felt nothing but a cold sense of justice.
"Take it away," I said to my men. "Clean the floor."
They moved quickly to follow my orders. They picked up the body and carried it out of the room. I stood there staring at the empty space on the floor where he had been kneeling. My voice was cold and steady when I spoke to the empty room.
"No one touches what is mine."