Chapter 6 - Trying

I was angry. I was depressed. Above those, though, I was humiliated. She'd made a mockery of me in front of the entire pack house. And what had I done wrong? Not died?

As I walked down the hallway, ignoring the questioning gazes of members carrying food into the dining room, I felt my eyes begin to burn with tears desperate to fall. Begging to. But I didn't let them. I'm not a strong person, I never have been, but I'd been humiliated enough. I doubted any of them respected me, even cared for me; if I ran around sobbing, they'd think I was weaker than they already did. As weak as I really was.

I wasn't sure where I was going, but just as soon as I found a hallway without heartbeats, I went into the first room I saw - what appeared to be a guest bathroom. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I let the emotion pour out of me. The tears, the sobbing. I crawled into the bathtub, finding it dry, as though it hadn't been used in ages, and curled up crying, sobbing. I wrapped my arms around myself, clutching my shirt as my shoulders shook.

At some point I yanked my glasses off, tossing them aside. I was all but blind without them; while a werewolf could heal from a bullet in a few minutes, things like cancer and vision impairment got to them. The only immune ones, really, were those higher up in the food chain. It occurred to me at some point along the day that if he marked me, making me an Alpha, my eyes would fix. I wouldn't need the damn things anymore. But I wasn't going to give up my freedom for something that contacts could match.

I cried myself to a near sleep. Minutes ticked by, fading into at least an hour. The light on the ceiling hummed, and I stared at the little fish decals along the walls, all shades of blue.

A knock thumped at the door and my entire body jumped. I'd been so out of focus that I hadn't heard anyone approach, hadn't smelled them. But my nerves began to hum in a way I realized meant that Nicholas was close.

I didn't respond.

He knocked again. "Darcy? Come on, I hear your heartbeat. I know you're in there. Let me in." He said, his tone hard. Uncaring.

I sank deeper into the tub. "Come in."

The handle jingled, and I anticipated him either complaining about the lock, or busting the door down. Instead, I heard a jingle and the lock turned. So he had keys? There goes any chance at privacy.

He stepped in, features hard, but his eyes landed on me, and they immediately clouded with something I hadn't seen on him, something foreign and unexpected. Affection, kindness. He didn't say anything, just shut the door, kicked his shoes off, and clambered into the tub. He sat at the other end, awkwardly positioning himself around the faucet, and though he bent his legs, his feet still rested on either side of my own.

I wasn't sure what to say. Whether to yell at him for something that wasn't his fault, or cry for something that wasn't my fault. I wanted to explain how badly I wanted to ruin Jasmines pretty face, but I thought it wouldn't be very appropriate, her rank considered. So, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"You have huge feet." I sat, staring down at them. One of his feet had to equal two of my own; I knew that Candy would have had a dirty joke to provide right about now, and I felt my heart clench at the thought of never seeing her again. She'd never come here, and I didn't see myself ever getting out of this place. Maybe I'd be allowed a phone call.

He smiled at me, something I already knew was a rare treat, and he was quiet a moment. He just watched me, but it didn't feel creepy or uncomfortable; it made me feel warm and fuzzy, and I couldn't make eye contact, knowing full well I'd blush.

"I thought about punishing her somehow. But it's not my right, it's yours. Whatever you want, that'll be her punishment. Have her put in the basement for a week, publicly humiliate her - I don't care, it's up to you."

I felt conflicted at his words. I wanted her to feel the same sort of humiliation I did, but I knew I wasn't a malicious person. I believed in karma, and I didn't want to get screwed over myself.

"She'll get what's hers." I concluded, staring down at my nails and the chipped blue nail polish. I picked at it a bit more, listening to the silence for a moment, before sighing, my hands dropping onto my lap. I curled onto my side, head leaning against the hard side of the tub, and staring at him.

"Nicholas, she wasn't wrong. As much as I keep telling myself I don’t, I want the spark. I want the magic. I want to want to be with you not because I'm programmed to, but because I love you. I don't care if it makes me sound like a child, but I want love, not just lust." I felt the tears start up again, against my will, and I rubbed them, trying to make it stop. "I don't want to have to fight for you with every woman who's slept with you. I never signed up for complications - I never signed up for any of this. I'm trying to be good, I'm trying to handle all of this, deal with all of this, but I don't know if I can. I just want things to be as easy as I'd always hoped they'd be."

I was sobbing by the end, against my will. My shoulders shook and my chest caved and I wanted to be home. I wanted my coconut shampoo and the fancy perfume Candy had given me for my birthday and the sound of Tyler playing his obnoxious guitar in the next room.

Nicholas sat up and reached over, taking my hand. They were hard and warm and calloused, seeming to swallow mine, and my tears stopped as the electricity pulsed through my body. It was warm and calm and reassuring. It made me tired. "I'm sorry, Darcy. You've been great, with everything. Most girls come here tied up and duct tape on their mouths. I know you didn't want this, me - nobody would. I know this isn't a fairy tale, and you don't know how badly I want to be prince charming for you.

"I'm trying, please understand that. I'll try harder if that's what it takes, I won't stop. I'm just not good at this, any of this. But I'll do whatever I have to, because seeing you hurt, seeing you cry, it resurrects my heart and kills it all over again." He told me, gaze earnest and tone pleading. This, all of this, was something I didn't expect. Something I never thought I'd get. He was showing me, for seemingly the first time, that he cared. I felt less hopeless about him, about us.

Mates weren't automatically in love, that wasn't how biology worked. Nature did what it could, it gave us chemistry, it made us feel like we needed each other. It replicated love for a while. But in the end, it couldn't make anyone love another. Inevitably, the chemicals would fade away, and you'd be left with whatever you built in the time you were drugged up on love. When it faded away, this need to make one another feel better, I wanted the base. I wanted to ooey-gooey sort of love, the stuff in movies and romance novels. I wanted a happily ever after. And right there, as we sat in the bathtub, lacking water but full of emotion, I thought I might just get it one day.

"I'm still hungry, you know." I said finally, the corners of my lips tugging into a smile, trying to lighten the mood. But I really was hungry; I'd skipped breakfast, we'd been on the road during lunch time, and the scene at dinner had left me humiliated.

He chuckled and nodded, pulling himself out of the tub and offering me a hand. I took it this time, clambering my own way out. "Go up to the room, I'll bring something up for you." His words reminded me of something that made the hair on the back of my neck stick up.

"Er, Nicholas-"

"Nick."

"Nick, I think it might be... wise to sleep separately." I said, my hands wringing in front of me. "The chemistry is really strong, and I don't want to get caught up in the moment and do something I regret."

He sighed and his expression was clearly disappointed. "Okay, I'll get a futon up there. You can have the bed." He said, and before I could speak, turned and left.