Chapter 30 Chapter 30
Anya’s POV
"Wolves hate the salt spray. They hate the open water. They never come this far out."
That was what Carla had told me. It was the one thing that had given us hope, the one rule we thought was absolute.
I turned my head slightly, wincing as the wind whipped my hair against his chest. "How?" I whispered, my voice hollow. "How did you find me? I thought... I thought werewolves hated the salt spray. I thought you hated the open water. They said you would never come this far."
He let out a low, dark chuckle against my ear, a sound that made me feel incredibly foolish.
"Hmm," he vibrated. "We do hate it. The salt burns our noses. The sound of the waves drowns out the heartbeat of the forest. It is a nuisance."
He tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me back until there was zero space between us.
"But we are not scared of it, little human. You are confusing a dislike with a weakness."
His voice dropped, becoming hard and cold. "I hate the cold, too, but I hunt in the winter. I hate the heat, but I fight in the summer. Do you really think a little salt water would stop me from retrieving what is mine? I would walk through fire to find my cure."
He paused, and the air around us seemed to grow heavier, charged with a dark, lingering violence.
"Besides," he whispered, his tone shifting from arrogant to accusatory. "Do you have any idea what happened back at the fortress? Do you know what happened... after you were gone for just one night?"
"I don't want to know," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut against the wind. "Because I already know what happened. You killed again, didn't you? Another human, another creature... it doesn't matter."
I tried to lean forward, craning my neck away from him, desperate to escape the sensation of his nose burying into the sensitive curve of my throat.
His hot breath was sending unwanted shivers down my spine.
"You can't control yourself at midnight," I continued, my voice trembling but my words sharp. "That's why you're always alone in that chamber. That's why everyone is terrified of you."
I swallowed hard. "The she-wolves... they don't come to your bed because they love you. They gamble their lives. They think if they can just survive one night of your rage... they'll be crowned Luna. It's just a power game to them."
He let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into my back.
"Sometimes," he murmured against my skin, his tone shifting from arrogance to a dark, grudging respect, "I mistake your fear for ignorance. I thought you had no idea how my world works."
He tightened his arm around me, pulling me back into his warmth.
"But you see everything, don't you, Anya? You're smarter than you look."
"What? Did you think I was just a pretty face?" I snapped, my anger barely controlled. "I have a brain, too, Alpha. And if I were you, I would just get this over with. Seal the mating ritual. Mark me. Do whatever you have to do before I find a way to end my own life."
His grip on my waist tightened painfully. "You would truly rather die," he murmured, his voice heavy with disbelief, "than be with me?"
"Of course I would!" I twisted in his arms, trying to look him in the eye. "Why would I want to be with someone like you? You are arrogant. Dangerous. Ruthless. You don't have a single ounce of mercy in your entire body!"
He let out a short, dark laugh that was lost in the wind.
"Is that so?" he countered, pulling me flush against his chest so I could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his heart. "Well, look at where you are. You ran from me. You defied me. And yet, you are still breathing. I haven't broken your legs to keep you here. I didn't kill your little friend for helping you escape."
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"Tell me, Anya... isn't that mercy?"
I didn't answer him. I couldn't. In his twisted, predatory logic, he had a point. To him, letting me live was mercy.
I remained rigid as wood in his arms, staring blankly ahead until we slowed to a halt in a dense part of the forest. Beta Miguel and the two warriors pulled up alongside us, their horses blowing hard.
Kai didn't even look at them. "Go ahead," he commanded, sliding from the saddle and pulling me down with him. "We will rest here."
They didn't hesitate. With a curt nod, they spurred their horses on, disappearing into the trees and leaving us completely alone in the quiet hum of the woods.
I immediately pulled away from him and walked to the riverbank, sitting on a large, flat rock. I scrubbed my hands furiously in the water, wrinkling my nose. The stench of fish guts, old grease, and sweat was overpowering.
How could he stand it? I thought, mortified. He has a wolf's nose. I must smell absolutely revolting to him.
"Can you turn around?" I asked, my voice small, gesturing to the water. "I need to... I need to wash."
To my surprise, he didn't argue. He simply turned his broad back to me, crossing his arms.
I wasted no time. I peeled off the filthy, fish-stained dress and waded into the river. The water was freezing, stealing the breath from my lungs, but I didn't care. I dove under, scrubbing my skin, trying to wash away the dirt, the smell of the market, and the memory of the last few hours.
When I surfaced, pushing my wet hair back, I saw him.
He had turned back around. He was watching me from a few yards away, leaning against a tree.
His gaze wasn't lecherous, but it was intense and vigilant, tracking the current and my position in the water.
"You're not going to try and drown yourself," he called out over the sound of the rushing river, "are you?"