Chapter 20 It's about you
Celine’s POV
The door opened midway as he stared at me.
His face was bland, like it was a normal act for me to be in his room, and at first, I thought he probably expected me to come see him. But no, he didn’t. The look on his face did not suggest that, not even once.
“Since you're here,” he said.
He left the doorknob, walking further steps inside the room. The door closed. It locked as I heard the metals in it make the usual sound they make whenever a door was locked. Although, I didn't see him with a key.
Now, it was just us in the room.
He walked closer, and my eyelids weren't blinking except I was walking backward, trying to avoid the stench of his presence that filled the room. It was even worse since he was just walking and not speaking. At least I would have known his intentions.
“Since you're here”—what did that even mean?
Nothing gave me a hint.
A smile or frown should be on his face, but he portrayed nothing.
“What… What do you intend to do?”
He wouldn't answer, just kept walking closer. A small amount of time would tell, but I couldn't bear to wait for that time even if it was just a few seconds.
“Just tell me what you want?” My voice was shaky.
What came to my mind as an answer was “since you're here,” which meant he had a plan and wasn't saying it to me. But what if he was to tell me what he wanted?
What would he even want?
For him to give me a normal punishment was already out of the list—if he wanted to, he would have called the gammas in. Or he wanted to do it himself? Or he wanted sex? To repeat the scene that happened between us a few hours ago?
With the grip he had on me now, I didn't think I would try to refuse.
Damn! Let him give me a break from this tension and tell me the exact thing he wants in exchange for my entering his room!
No… The calf of my legs had reached the bedframe.
“Celine,” he called.
Two more steps, and we stood the closest to each other, my breasts pressing against his chest.
My right hand was already shaking, and the candle I was holding was likely going to fall off as the heated wax touched my skin before reaching the floor. Somehow, I focused my attention on it, avoiding his piercing gaze.
“Why not leave the candle?” he said.
Before I could respond, he took it from my hand and pinned it on the table without stretching too much. Then he returned attention to me, our bodies tightly pressed against each other.
“Look at me.” He raised my chin upward so our eyes looked into each other's.
And that was another crazy moment, staring into each other's eyes without words. His amber eyes had a perfect definition of me as his pupils showed my reflection better than a mirror. It was awkward, but my eyes became glued to his.
And that was when I could see through his cover. I saw memories wrapped around with wounds, scars that always projected pain.
He touched my cheeks with his thumb, rubbing it softly.
“You stepped into my room,” he said.
The pain I saw in his eyes dissipated.
“I…” I pushed my calf against the bed, but couldn't move an inch backward.
He pressed against me instead. And I could feel the heat waves from his body again. I couldn't tell the games he was playing. Wait… games? At this point, his eyes were void of any emotion.
So many sides existed in him.
“Since you're here,” he said those same words again.
“What… What do you mean?”
He raised his hand off my cheek, staring at them. “I’ve washed my hands in blood… Soon, I might have to do that again with this little time I have before I go into a feral state.”
“To who… Me?”
Then he laughed. “I would have used that to cure myself if it is.”
“Okay…”
He stepped back from me to sit on the bed. I heard him crack his knuckles.
“I’ve got to leave,” I said.
“Are you afraid of me?”
I wondered what he actually meant by “afraid” to be sure I was on the same page with him. For some reason, I doubted I had that fear towards him—and that I couldn't clearly define. Maybe it was because of our intimate session?
But I did know I had some sort of fear for him—scared of being caught, freezing and my imagination running wild about the kind of punishment he would deal on me.
“Are you?” he asked again.
“Yes… No, I mean… I don't know.”
“That's fair.”
“I got to go.”
“No now.” He patted the bed. “Sit with me for a while.”
Rubbing my sweaty palms against my thighs, I sat beside him, a small distance apart, but he beckoned me to move closer, which I did.
“I called you during your walk to this place,” he started. “I’m sure you heard my voice but didn't answer.”
“You… You did? But I saw no one… I didn't see you.”
“It was through a mindlink.”
A mindlink… But that only existed between werewolves. How was he able…
“I’m human.” I had to remind him.
“You don't have to remind me of what is too obvious.”
“I’m also not a werewolf.”
“Could you be two at the same time?”
He was clearly rolling his eyes as though to make a joke of my curiosity.
“Fine,” he said. “Dear mate.” His hand touched my thighs, slowly walking up to my inner thighs, to the start of my undies.
I thought to get his hand off me, but I thought not to. Not because it would offend him, but because of… well, nothing. I just didn't take his hand off.
“It's because we’re mates.”
That word “mates” would keep sounding strange to my ears. Humans didn't use such words. Colt and I didn't. Even though he was also a werewolf, he didn't call me his mate—except our connection was different?
I just nodded. I shouldn't argue. I didn't have the boldness to start an argument.
“You see.” His hand pulled the hem of my gown to reveal my skin.
I took my hands behind me, doing nothing. Unsure of what to do, and taking deep breaths as his fingers walked up my bare skin.
“The connection is so strong to the extent the dream I had of you is haunting me.”
“The dream… Please tell me.”
He shook his head.
His fingers were starting to touch the outer part of my undies, touching my clit through it. The regret could come after, but the pleasure wouldn't let me resist. The next second, before I could contain the pleasure, he slipped my undies to a side, and slipped his mid‑finger into me.
“Ahh… Oh Tristan… Was this my punishment after all?”
“No, you have all access to my room as my mate.” He kissed my cheek. “No real punishment is meant for you.”
I just kept nodding.
My parents’ death would come haunting me again… But now, I couldn't get myself to stop. His finger went upward inside me, touched a certain spot that doubled the pleasure, and caused my juices to flow more and more.
“It should be all about you,” he said. “Which is why I fear the dread that befell my parents.”
“Your parents? The dread…”
He placed his lips against mine, and I didn't think of resisting. Just a little bit further, and I would stop. Or why not finish?
His hand cupped my left breast. “Celine.”
His hands left me soon after, and he stood to look above me. Now his face had an emotion I could read.
“The dream told me… It told me of the dread.”
“What dread? And how does it concern your parents?”
“It concerns you.” He picked a strand of my hair. “You have to leave this room.”