Roses Wither: Into the Darkness
Sixteen

Rose

My brother and mother were gone when I woke up.

In our family, we never said goodbye. Goodbye was final and no one was dying, so we just came and left as we pleased, knowing that we would see one another again one day.

I woke up late, from my emotional breakdown over Aiden blocking me last night, even in wolf form, and went down to the kitchens to make myself some breakfast.

Aiden had really sent my emotions on downward spiral last night and it grated on me even now, as I flipped my french toast in the pan.

Sofia, the cook, hated when I made my own meals, but I was used to it. I had helped make meals for the Alpha Guard with my mother, since I could remember. It was the way of the wolf.

The wolf that I had left behind in America, with my mate. My mate who was tired of waiting for me to return to him and was blocking me.

I didn’t know what to do about it. This whole thing was getting out of hand, especially today, since he’d shut me out completely.

“Your hair is different.” The smooth baritone of Chase’s voice caught me off guard and I jumped, turning to face him as he sat at the island.

“Goddess,” I let out a huff of breath, “Warn a person you're coming!”

“I’m sorry,” His brow furrowed, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” I turned back to the stove, feeling his eyes on me, “My mind was somewhere else.”

“Why is your hair flat today?” He asked with his brow furrowed.

“Because I flattened it.” I shrugged.

“It is really long. Do women normally wear their hair that way?" He looked at the length of my hair, where it ended below my bottom.

"It's the way of the wolves." I gave a slow nod and explained, not knowing if he knew this or not, "Our hair is... It represents our lifeline, in a way. The longer the hair, the longer the life."

"Oh," He gave a nod, "It looks nice curly though. When we spar, and it's all messy, why straighten it?”

“I don’t know,” I turned back to my breakfast, “Because the girls do it back home.”

Honestly, I think Aiden preferred it this way, and I was dying for any kind of connection to my mate right now. So, this morning I woke up two hours early and flattened it.

“Why do you want to be like others?”

I snorted. Was this seriously a good time for stupid inquisitions?

“When you’re different, you try to blend in I guess.” I payed attention to my food, flipping it and pushing it around in my pan, "I was the only redhead, the one with pale skin, and the only one with all the markings, aside from Marcus, and Aiden has a few markings, but nothing like our's."

“You shouldn't.” He spoke matter-of-factly, “I stand out. I never thought it was a problem.”

“It’s not, for you,” I thought about it for a moment, “It’s just different for me I guess, because I have the ability to blend in, where you don’t.”

“Are you telling me that six foot seven, and light hair doesn’t have the ability to blend in if we choose?” His voice made it sound like it was normal, but-

I turned and saw a smile creasing his face as he cocked a brow at me.

“Is that a joke?” I snorted and gave a lithe smile in return.

“I believe so,” He shrugged, “I never thought being different was a bad thing though. I have used it to my advantage over the years.”

“Well, not all of us can be built like a tank." I scoffed, "Do you want some French Toast?” I turned back to the stove.

“Is that the smell?” I could hear the curiosity in his voice.

“There’s cinnamon in it,” I shrugged, then something occurred to me, “Have you had french toast before?”

I remembered his expression at dinner last night when Marcus and I tasted each other's meals. Chase had gotten the same thing as Marcus, but there was no reaction there whatsoever, no comment on how it tasted. Maybe the man had lived off of blood for so long, that he forgot what food tasted like?

"How do you eat it?" His brow furrowed as he watched me from across the kitchen island.

"Like any other food," I reached into the cupboard, pulled out two plates and divided the toast, “You can eat it two ways, rip and dip, or pour and fork. When Tati isn’t around, I eat it my way.” I smiled, making a show of it, as I tore off a piece and dipped it into the syrup I had poured into a cup before bed interrupted.

I was hungry after my run last night, so I shoved the whole piece in my mouth with a grin.

He smiled with a shake off his head, but I could almost see when he decided to throw caution to the wind and join me.

We ate in silence for a moment before he spoke.

“This is... Uhm... Good.” I could tell he was struggling for words, as he looked at his plate, “I think I like it. What is it called again?”

"French toast," I snorted, "You've seriously never had this?"

“I used to eat for substanence, but I haven’t needed to since I was turned. Even blood isn’t like this.”

"Want more?" I asked.

When he nodded, I went back to the stove. It felt nice to have something at least slightly similar to home. So much, that I didn't even focus on the heat running through my body or my vampire's attraction to the man.

“How old were you when my father turned you?” I asked.

“We didn’t count.” He spoke so matter of fact, that I turned to face him.

“We?” I couldn’t take my eyes away as his tongue snaked out to catch some syrup before it dropped off his piece of bread.

I knew my eyes were silvering over again and attempted to control it before he noticed.

Aiden... Aiden was my mate and he was so pissed at me right now. How pissed was he going to be when I didn’t step off that plane with my mother and brother tonight? My eyes instantly began to tear at the thought and he hadn't failed to notice.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was curious as he looked up at me, "Did you burn yourself?"

“No, no, I'm fine.” I spoke tightly, picking up the spatula and continuing my work with breakfast.

"But you're crying?" He rushed to my side and grabbed my hands to look at them.

The jolt went through me again at his touch, which brought on more tears.

"People cry over more than wounds." I pulled my hands away and turned back to the stove, "They cry because they're happy, sad, annoyed, hormonal. Some even cry when they're angry."

“Are you crying because of one of those?"

"Honestly," I examined his face through my tears, "From what I hear, you are supposed to be this almighty guard that everyone envies and fears, you've been in countless wars and battles like, but when it comes normal stuff, you seem lost."

His face loosened a little and he gave almost an embarrassed smile.

"I never paid attention to anything else." He told me in all seriousness.

"Why me?" My brow furrowed as I looked at our connected hands.

"You make me feel things."

“No,” I shook my head, pulling my hand away, “I have a mate and he is why I am crying.”

"Did he hurt you?" He gave me a once over with his eyes.

"Mentally, yes." I gave a nod and turned back to the food again, flipping the toast.

“I know nothing of mating.” He leaned against the counter next to me, but made sure that our bodies didn’t connect.

“When a wolf mates, their emotions are linked, their minds are connected in wolf form and they can communicate with each other. I’ve been scared for so long that I closed my mate out, now he’s doing the same to me. He expects me to arrive with my mother and brother in a few hours, and I won’t be there.”

"But that is not your doing."

"He doesn't see it that way," I sighed, "The wolves are at war, because of my existence. Yuma, my mother's brother, is creating an army and Mother and I are his target. Aiden wants me to return to him so I can protect our people, but if I can’t control myself, I can’t fight.”

"You think of Yuma as your uncle?" When I looked up at him, his face was blank. There was no emotion there what so ever.

"He is my mother's brother." I shrugged, "I don't know what means where you are from, but to me, that means he's my uncle."

“Do you fear your strength?” He asked.

“I think everyone fears my strength, if I can't control it.” I whispered.