Chapter 337. Falling II

Chapter 337: 337. Falling II

Maisie

I bit down on his shoulder hard enough to taste blood. I kicked and thrashed and tried to roll him, and when I caught his neck between my jaws, I bit down hard.

He snarled, trying to shake me off, but I’d always been stubborn.

His blood ran down my throat and he stopped trying to tear me off him. Instead, he dropped his weight suddenly, crushing the air from my lungs.

I bucked, my jaw loosening its grip. Taking that chance, he adjusted, using his greater mass to trap my hindquarters while his jaws closed carefully but firmly on the scruff of my own neck.

The pressure was exquisite, but the pain jolted me out of my rage. I cried out, thrashing under him, but he had my limbs trapped under him. Every time I tried to twist free he tightened his hold, a low, warning growl vibrating through his teeth and into my spine until my muscles locked against my will.

It was either I stopped fighting, or I remained there, with my neck bared like a lamb. He wasn’t even trying to mark me. He was trying to tame me, and I felt like a wild animal who had been shot down with a dart as he held me in place, forcing me to remain still because it only hurt when I moved.

My harsh wheezing was the only thing echoing in the rising dawn. And my strength faded out of me with all of my anger. And I felt cold and small and vulnerable as my limbs straightened and my fur receeded into skin.

My wheezes became furious breaths as the shift pulled through me, and I was soon human again, flat on my back on the cold, damp earth.

Soren’s remained in his Lycan form a breath longer, taking his paws off me and I squeezed my eyes shut when he licked the tear off my cheek, swallowing painfully as my throat tightened.

I felt it the moment he changed, and our hips and limbs aligned perfectly. He was braced over me and his breaths stirred my hair.

I opened my eyes to find his burning into mine. Wild. Electric. Alive. There were leaves stuck around in his tousled hair and a smudge of dirt caked his left cheek. He didn’t look sorry, but there was a tenderness in the way he traced the arch of my neck where he’d nicked me.

"I would’ve caught you," he said gently.

"That’s your excuse?" I demanded, shoving at him, but he was immoveable.

"I am not so cruel, Adams," he said. "You think I wanted to terrify you just to watch you scramble."

"You threw me out!" I yelled, my voice cracking, and pathetic tears welled in my eyes as I recognized that it wasn’t rage that had me shaking. It was the fear, only just catching up with me now. It had gotten to me, yanked me back there so brutally, I still felt the phantom trace of paralysis in my toes.

"You were never in any real danger, Adams. I never would have let you fall--"

"That is exactly what you did!"

His face scrunched up with exasperation, like I was was being difficult, but when another angry tear slipped from me, his eyes softened.

"I watch you sob in your sleep". His thumb swiped the tear away. "I watch you jerk when you think you’re falling. You gasp for air. You fight back. On some nights, you win the mental fight. On some, you don’t. Those are often the worst nights."

I swallowed, and he wiped another stray tear. "If I had prepared you, if I had given you warning, your mind would have built a wall, braced you behind a sense of security. Worship your fear long enough and it becomes larger than it should be. An insurmountable god sitting in the dark of your mind, whispering things to you that are only as real as you make them."

I looked at him. At the clarity in his eyes. The surety. The certainty. Being around Soren made you feel like everything was possible. Anything was possible. One look in those lovely eyes and you wanted to be a believer.

And that was the trap in itself. Life didn’t work that way. If it did, I wouldn’t be barren and Mercer wouldn’t be on his way to selling his soul to the devil.

"Don’t do that to me again," I whispered. "I’m not half as strong or fearless as you are."

His eyes roved over my face. "I am not fearless, Adams. I am strong because I know what I am, who I am, what frightens me, and I never run from or avoid it. It never goes away when you shoved it down. On the contrary, you make a home for it and build wards around it, protecting it while it festers and kills you slowly."

His eyes softened. "Sometimes, you must break with your past to embrace your future. It is never an easy thing to do. It is one of the distinguishing characteristics between survivors and victims. Letting go of what was, to survive what is." His thumb stopped by my chin. "And you, Adams, are far stronger than I am."

My sobs had quietened, and I looked away, sniffing softly. "You could’ve given me that lecture over a cup of coffee."

His lips quirked up in a dashing smile. "Now, where’s the novelty in that? And besides, having you fight so hard to get your paws all over me is something I have to gloat about. No one else gets the pleasure."

I moved to knee him in the groin, but he straightened swiftly, avoiding the hit as he clutched my wrist and pulled me to my feet.

His eyes raked over my naked body, looking over me for injuries, and when he found none, he grinned, tipping his head towards the north. "Quinlan and Jericho are right over at the other bend, waiting. Care for a run?"

****

I fingered the pages, lips quirking as I got distracted, recalling running alongside Soren, Jericho and Quinlan this morning. We’d run for so long, nudging and pushing at each other, it had reminded me of what it felt like, to be a part of something.

I didn’t realize until then, how much I missed the little things. We hadn’t talked to each other. There had been no expectations or grief or guilt or sadness. There was just the wind, the earth under our feets, and the combined joy of sharing something so simple.

I’d lost track of time, and barely had enough time to get into the shower and wash out the mud and grass from my hair before running off to class.

But then, the toe-curling kiss Soren had given me after showing up at my door, completely dressed for work with a steaming cup of coffee was totally worth getting barked at by Warren for being late. And the extra laps he had made me run to make up for it.

"Maisie."

I glanced up from the old book with pages so fragile, they were on the verge of falling apart. It was taking so long to pry each one open and read through and I felt a headache begin to form in the back of my head.

Ms. Aimee, the librarian, was packing up her books hastily. Her hair fell out of her tidy bun as she leaned over her desk, grabbing her bag. "Would you mind locking up for me? I have to..." Her phone pinged again.

"Sure," I said, hoping I hadn’t sounded excited. I’d studied Aimee for long enough to know that every Wednesday, she got a call from her boyfriend sometimes around six in the evening, who always seems to like yelling at her over the phone.

I’d been waiting for his call, because then, Aimee would leave in a haste and I’d get the window I needed to ditch the boring texts I kept receiving from Atlas, and maybe steal some more important books.

Something that could tell me about dark crystals, maybe, and why my eyes won’t stop switching colours when I felt a surge of emotions lately.

The restricted sections was opened and the grounds were still off limits. A smaller library on the second floor was open to the general student public, while this part remained sectioned off for research. Some parts more than others.

Aimme groaned as she peered into her phone screen, shifting to wedge it between her shoulder and her ear as she fished out a set of keys from her bag.

I lifted my hands, catching them when she threw them at me. "Thank you, May!" she whisper shouted, and gesticulated towards the more restricted area and did a big ’no’ sign.

I nodded with a sweet smile, like an obedient student, silently tapping my feet into the ground as I listened to her retreating voice and footsteps as she argued over him missing dinner last night.

I heard the door slam shut in the distance and my heart leaped. I scooped my notes into my arms and hurried for the restricted area.