Mae POV
The sound of knitting needles clicking together hammers through my brain. It reminds me of when I was a child, and my stepmother, Susan, used to watch me nap when I was scared. I groan loudly and place my hand over my forehead. I was hoping the sound of my protest would stop the noise, but whoever is knitting in my room continues their work.
I allow my eyes to flutter open and try to look around the room, but my head feels too heavy to lift. Reaching into the recesses of my mind, I look for Celeste, but she is nowhere to be found. Over the past couple of days, I have gotten used to her being there, and I cannot help but wonder where she has gone.
Then it all comes flooding back. My father poisoned me. I try to push myself up on the bed, and a low, gruff voice comes from the corner of the room.
"Easy there," the man says.
At the sound of a man's voice, I dart up in the bed. The pounding in my head causes me to fall backward. I almost hit my head on the headboard of the bed, but the man darts across the room and catches me before I do.
The smell of rotting flesh fills the air around me. I know this man is a rogue, but he doesn't take his eyes off mine. They are an odd shade of green with flecks of brown around the edges. His skin is tanned like he has been out in the sun most of his life. His dark hair is peppered with gray.
He doesn't say anything to me when he lays me gently back down on the bed, but I have plenty of questions. I fight against him, pushing his hands away from me.
"You are welcome," he responds sarcastically.
"Don't touch me," I attempt to growl, but without Celeste in my mind, it comes across as a grumble.
Ignoring the thumping in my mind, I sit back up. Looking around the room, I see that it is spotless, unlike the rest of the house. My father had kept it decorated the same as it was when I was a child. Even my old doll house is sitting in the corner. I remember begging him to get rid of it as I got older, but now it is offering me a slight bit of comfort.
There is a new chair sitting in the corner, but there is no sign of knitting needles. Only a large handgun sits on the cushion. There is a wire brush sitting next to it. The sound that woke me must have been the sound of him cleaning his gun. My mind was playing tricks on me.
The man notices my focus on the gun. "That's not for you," he tries to reassure me.
"Whatever you say," I respond skeptically.
"Seriously," the man responds. "I am your bodyguard. That is for Alpha Kieran if he ever shows up."
I am taken aback by his brazenness. "Alpha Kieran is my mate," I remind him.
"Are you sure about that?" The man replies. "He could have been tricking you all of this time. You are a human after all."
"I am not human," I snap at the man. "I have been marked and mated."
"That does not make you a werewolf," the man laughs. "Either you are born one, or you are not."
"I am not arguing the semantics of my life. You obviously know nothing about me," I snap at the man.
He runs his fingers through his hair. "I think we got off on the wrong foot," he tries to persuade me. "My name is Eli."
I look away from his face. I know I don't need to tell him my name. I am sure he has already been briefed on who I am.
I run my fingers through my hair and notice that it is damp. Looking down at my clothes, I realize that I have been washed and changed. My eyes widen in shock.
"Did you change me?" I gasp.
Eli chuckles loudly. "Of course not. Francesca did."
I still shudder at the fact that Francesca saw me naked, but I suppose it is better than my father or Eli.
"Oh," I respond.
Eli approaches me carefully and sits on the edge of my bed. I scoot away from him, but he reaches his hand out for me. "I do believe we have been thrust together for a reason," he begins.
The tips of his fingers graze against my hand, and I recoil at his slight touch. "What makes you think that?"
"You and I are to be wed," Eli says with a smirk on his face.
I choke back a laugh that turns into a disgraceful cough. Spit flies from my mouth and lands on Eli's face.
Now, it is his turn to recoil. He leans back away from me and wipes my spit from his face. "That wasn't the reaction I was hoping for," he admits.
"What exactly were you hoping for?" I ask as I try to compose myself.
"I was hoping you would be excited," Eli whispers.
"Excited," I scoff. "I have a mate. Why on earth would I be excited?"
Eli reaches forward and brushes his hand across the mark on my neck. "This can be easily removed."
I try to slap his hand away, but he wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me forward. His mouth is so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my skin. There is a faint scent of mint mixed in with the scent of rogue. It must have been what he smelled like before he turned.
Before I can pull away, his lips are on mine. His tongue thrusts into my mouth as I scream in protest. I press my hands on his shoulders and push him away. My hand raises and slaps him across the cheek, but Eli doesn't look wounded. In fact, he looks pleased.
"Don't ever touch me like that again," I hiss.
Eli lifts the hand that just struck him, and he places small kisses on my burning palm. "One day, you will be begging for my tongue to be in your mouth and all over your body."
"I would rather die," I hiss through my teeth.
Eli brushes a strand of hair out of my face and leans in close, whispering into my ear. "That can be arranged as well."
I am unable to stop the shiver that runs down my spine. "I need to speak to my father," I spit out in fear.
"I am afraid he is not here," Eli smirks. "Only Francesca remains downstairs."