Bearly alive

21

Roman

I take it back, oh Goddess, I take it all back.

Despite the pillow, the bedding and the fact that I don’t have the smallest of couches, my back is killing me. I guess I’m never going to go ahead and try sleeping on a rock because I’m fairly certain I won’t ever be able to get up again. Not even my fast healing is helping right now, and I’m even more pissed off because, in spite of all the pain and blatant discomfort, I was sleeping. Well, now that I think about it, this s**t would surely save me from sleeping deep enough to have nightmares, so hello bright f*****g side.

But back to the reason I awoke as furious as a poked bear would: the incessant ringing, or rather buzzing, of my phone.

I try to hurry, but in reality, I have to drag myself to the safe where I locked the device last night before I left to save my new client. I must look like an 89 year old human in a retirement home, hurrying to get the last container of pudding at supper. It’s a good thing I don't have friends that ever needed to stay over and sleep on my couch because if I did, I would have lost them all with this much hospitality.

Reaching the safe, I choose to ignore the playful thought and the trace of humour that crept inside me when I wasn’t looking. I haven’t thought of anything funny in years, punishing myself and feeling guilty if I even thought about enjoying something comical. I shouldn’t start now.

Finally having the phone in my hands, I take a quick look at the code name on the screen and I instantly sober up. There’s suddenly no more pain, no more bitching at how bad I slept, the fact that a f*****g vampire is now under my roof or any of that sense of humour s**t. The King is calling and I’m all business as I answer, both on edge and also dreading whatever news or instructions he might come up with. Even after all I learned about Stella, after what Autumn is insinuating, I still feel like I’m missing something, potentially even crucial. I’m not so sure it's smart to keep poking at that, but I also never claimed I was smart. History has proved I am a fool, to say the least.

Not wanting to give anything away, I act the same as I always did. And when the King speaks about some complications that arose and asks me if Stella is secure, I bristle, unsure if it’s a trick question or if I’m the stupid f**k that thought way too far ahead when things are really simple in reality.

My mind dismisses all sanity and already theories of someone else wanting Stella come to mind. Could this be the complication that the King mentioned? I know I won’t be lucky enough for him to share that with me, and I also know better than to ask him point blank.

“I know I hired you for this quick job, but I promise you will be well compensated for the extra time you spend on it. Do you have anywhere secure you could leave her and do something else for me? It shouldn’t take more than a few hours, it’s also in the Thunderbolt pack. I need someone eliminated.”

I pause briefly not knowing how to answer that. Is he testing me or does he really think I remained close to the pack I kidnapped Stella from? I mean I get that no one would have come looking for her, as sick of a thought that may be, but I’m not dumb enough to stay close to the scene of a crime. My crime. And who the f**k does he want dead in there? I know I want everyone in that pack not only to die, but to suffer beforehand, but that’s just me and… and the fact that I can tell just how shitty they treated Stella or anyone that doesn’t have a high rank.

Before I could answer with a professional and polite way to tell him that I’m not sure it’s wise to leave Stella unattended before I securely deliver there to him, the King speaks again. It almost sounded like someone interrupted him as he was on the phone to me. Who would be so stupid, I wonder.

“Excuse me for a second.” He grumbles, clearly unhappy with the intruder, before the line goes silent. I don’t have to wait long until he comes back, though.

“Abort that, Roman.” He barks.

Abort what? I want to ask him. I didn’t sign up to kill anyone yet. Instead, I manage to sound more like the professional assassin that I pride myself to be.

“Abort the new mission?” I try to confirm.

“Yes. It’s… handled. Or rather will be soon enough.” He added that last part as an afterthought. I can't figure out if it was intentional or a slip up, but it sends alarms ringing for me.

“Not a problem. How about the initial job?”

“A few more days, Roman and I’ll collect her myself.”

The line drops and I resist the urge to hurl the phone straight onto the wall. It only gets worse when night comes again and with it, the time to be tortured by spending a few hours asleep on that couch.

I only had to firmly tell Stella once that I won’t take her offer and let her sleep in the living room while I go back to my bedroom. Though I was tempted, Goddess knows I was tempted. But I growled at her with some poor excuse about not trusting her not to get out again, and now I’m sitting here debating if the kitchen island would be a better choice for a bed.

I grab my laptop intending to try and do some more research into Stella and maybe figure out who she really is. As I always do when I open my computer and have nothing urgent to look at, I scroll through the news before anything else.

Amongst headlines like marriages, alliances and what not, the name Thunderbolt stands out. I scroll back and read the full title before clicking on the article that was posted not even an hour ago.

New Alpha or the Thunderbolt pack dies just days after taking over. The family calls it murder. The Council of beasts is to investigate what happened to the Alpha that only lasted a couple of days.

My conversation with the King barrels back into my mind as I read the rest of the useless information about Benjamin and his family. Did the King of beasts have the young Alpha killed? If so, then why? Because I seriously doubt it’s punishment for how he treated Stella. If that were the case, his whole family would be dead.

I must have stayed frozen, looking at my screen yet not reading anything for a long time seeing as the room is completely dark now except for the screen in front of me. But something clicks an idea, a thing I need to check.

Crashing the computer to the floor as I get up, I awkwardly avoid stepping on it at the last minute. I hurry upstairs taking the steps two at a time and I don’t bother with waiting for permission after knocking at my own bedroom door. Instead, I barged in a nanosecond after I announced myself.

Stella jumps from the bed, clearly startled, with a confused expression on her face. Her wide eyes are growing and her pulse quickens as she sees me approaching with no intention of stopping. I can practically smell fear, which is not something I like knowing I induce in her, even though that’s what I want her to have toward me. But now’s not the time to dive into the internal conflicts I have because of my bear. Now I have to find that bloody letter that Stella was supposedly meant to deliver.

At least I have the common sense to see that asking my captive for it gives me a better chance than trying to find the letter myself.

“It’s more of a note than a letter, to be honest.” Stella stammers as she digs through the rags she still keeps and that were her clothes. She sounds apologetic, but little does she know I’m not dying to read some sappy love letter. If anything, the fact that it's not a long letter plays in favour of the hunch I have. Which is even worse in the grand scheme of things.

“Here.” She hands me the folded piece of paper that has clearly seen better days. I open it and instantly notice the King’s mark, the ball in the pit of my stomach becoming heavier as I read the words at the same time Stella says them.

“It just says a mate for a mate.” She shrugs. “But I thought that Margo might have written it, not Alpha Benjamin, because of the King’s mark. And she has been living at the palace, but I don't know...” She sees the look on my face and a little bit of that fear comes right back. “Oh, Goddess, I failed to give this to Margo and now there will be repercussions, isn’t it? Alpha Benjamin is going to kill me.” She practically hiccups.

“You might be right about repercussions, but Alpha Benjamin can’t hurt you or anyone else for that matter. He’s dead.”

Stella gasps and I don’t miss how she takes a step back, putting a little extra distance between us. The horror in her eyes has my blood boiling for more reasons than one.

“Did you…”

“No.” I answer her question, the one she couldn’t even finish asking. No, I did not kill the son of a b***h, though I almost did, and I wouldn’t have minded per se. It just looks like someone else handled it.