The Royal Pain

Chapter Eight:

"Bethany," I whispered, as I engulfed her in a tight hug. 

Disgruntledly, she hugged me back.

"You were gone for so long!" she said, smacking me softly on the shoulder. I sat down on the black leather couch in the living room and offered her the seat next to me. She flopped down and her frilly white dress trailed after her. 

Her blond hair shone and was pulled up into two separate pony tails. Her eyes were lined in thick black eyeliner and I was overjoyed to see just how relaxed she was here. How loved and cared for, I felt my throat constrict at the thought of what her old pack put her through. 

I got up brushed the negative thoughts out of my head and closed the door to the hallway and then I  double checked that the door to the kitchen was closed, too. I grabbed a random DVD from the bookcase above the TV and inserted it into the DVD player.

I opened up the cabinet doors, that had intricate designs burned into them, from the large cabinet on the other side of the room and pulled out the remote, turning the volume up. Then, I closed the blinds on the window above the other couch. 

Once done, I sank back into the sofa, closing my eyes, desperately trying to calm my overactive brain down. I was lost; it had been a week since I'd figured everything out and after interrogating every single officer, I had gotten nowhere. 

Determination flowed easily through my veins, but my stone heart bore no help in the efforts to save Nathan. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find an opening. 

I couldn't eat, sleep or relax. I'd cooped myself up in my room, pacing and going through paperwork. I had refused to open the door to anybody. 

I'd only come down today because anxiety was eating at me, like a maggot ate at rotting food. I felt like a rotting corpse, I was moving nowhere; I was just stuck in a constant spew of terror and angst that I'd wake up and find Nathan dead. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, raking a hand through my hair. I calmed my nerves, opened my eyes and concentrated solely on keeping my breaths even. The scar above my heart burned so much that I was terrified that it would split open and my heart would shatter into fragments. 

Bethany pulled me into her side and tried to comfort me. Her attempts were fruitless. Nothing could comfort the raging beast that had wormed its way into my chest. It had it hooks on my blood, and tendrils of fear spasmed down my back every time I though of Nathan. 

My body trembled for me to cry out, scream, punch a wall or even submerge myself into ice cold water, but once again, my body was stiff and the only thing I could do was tremble. I was covered in a cold sweat that made Nathan's shirt cling to my skin. 

My bedraggled hair hadn't seen a brush in a few days, and I could have used a bath. 

Thinking along the same lines as I had been, Bethany pulled away and made a face. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

***

After I'd bathed and calmed myself down, I sat on my bed contemplating whether or not I ought to tell Nathan everything. 

"Oh, to hell with it," I muttered. Bethany had talked to me after my bath, I'd explained my fear, and she'd told me that it was better for me to be honest with Nathan, this was me taking that advice. 

Seeing as my limbs were still burning and I didn't like my chances of reaching his room without falling over I shouted his name so loud that the house shook. 

He ran in, a panicked expression upon his face. I patted the bed beside me, and he traipsed over. He'd gone to the effort of at least trying to make himself presentable today. A black button up shirt and black jeans. He wore dark blue socks and a smile etched itself on my face as he wiggled his toes. 

His hair was slightly damp, and his face was clean shaven. Those green eyes of his shone as he took in my curled up form on the bed. Underneath it all though, I could make out the bags under his eyes, the faint lines of worry and the crease between his perfectly trimmed eyebrows. 

I sat up and clutched his hands in mine. "There's something I have to tell you." 

He nodded, smiling at me as if to give me strength to go on. 

I touched my heart and began my story. 

"Right here, I have a mark. It's more of a scar really. I won't show you because that would involve me taking my shirt off and as lovely as that would be for you, it wouldn't bode that well with me. 

"Anyway. When I was five years old, my parents were no longer on this earth. My father was shot and my mom killed herself. I didn't really know them that well, so I can't say I miss them that much. The pack's Alpha took me in since the Luna was unable to have children of her own - she was human, you see. 

"Life was perfect with the Alpha and Luna. I was treated with respect and I learned so much. I was with them for ten years until the Luna fell ill and died. With no heir, the Alpha had to stay strong for his pack, but when we were alone...

"He had always been fascinated with the werewolf body. He used to experiment on me - nothing too bad. Until, one day, mad with knowledge, he stabbed me with a silver knife, ripped open my chest and poured some sort of silver liquid in my heart. 

"It should have killed me, and I think the only reason it didn't was because of his previous experiments. Perhaps he made me immune to silver, I don't know. I just know that whatever he did means that I can't feel the mate connection and I'm of no use to you like this."

Nathan's grip on my hand had gotten tighter as I'd spoken. The pain was unbearable but I didn't let it show. I just let him silently brood, like he used to do. I felt like a painful weight had been lifted off of my shoulder, and I liked it now that Nathan knew why I had been so distant and hesitant towards him. 

I scrambled onto his lap and shoved my head into the scruff of his neck, inhaling his scent. He seemed to relax, and his arms slowly wrapped themselves around my waist. 

"I love you, Aisling. I don't care if you can't feel the bond. If you're willing to try and fall in love with me the human way, I'm willing to wait. Just, please, don't leave me."

His voice cracked and I knew that he was on the verge of tears. I grinned despite the situation and snuggled in closer to him. He didn't care that I couldn't feel the bond. He still loved me, and I was more than willing to have a go at falling in love with him. 

"I won't. I promise," I whispered into his chest. 

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As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you. 

-Cassandra Clare

  (Edited)