Bearly alive

9

Roman

"Are we in the pack house?" After a long period of silence, which I both welcomed and also hated, a tiny voice suddenly chirps.

"Pack hou… No, this is just a house, my house. Bears are typically solitary creatures. We all answer directly to the King of beasts, no middle man." I reply absentmindedly.

I realised that while I was paying attention to Stella since I was able to answer the question she asked, I wasn't really paying attention, which is why I actually answered.

I should be more careful with what I divulge, Goddess knows this place is not known by a lot of people, and I'm almost positive that not even the King himself knows the exact location of my home. Though I'm sure it's not for lack of trying. I have accumulated more enemies than friends doing what I do and that often includes those I do the jobs for. I’m technically a loose end to my clients, but It’s not like I could eliminate myself, and everyone knows I’m the best there is.

While Stella has been cleaning, dusting and making sure everything in the kitchen and living room shines, I started to do some work myself. She seemed pleased to be allowed to do that, so I let her be. Just to be on the safe side, all knives, stakes and forks, generally anything sharp I've already locked in a drawer in my desk. I'm surprised the bottom didn't give out with the amount of metal I crammed in there. But I can never be too careful. While the little wolf attacking me will surely not be successful enough to end my life, it would piss me off and I'm already in a sour mood. Been like that since the day I kidnapped Stella and frankly I don't see it ending until I can get rid of her. Though I have to admit that a part of me doesn’t mind her busying herself around my house. And of course, that part is my bear.

Armed with my laptop, I've been trying hard to do some research deep into the digitalised archives of the Kingdom. Not much luck so far, I can't find anything about Stella and not knowing her last name isn't proving much helpful either. I’ve asked her and she said she’s never had a last name. I bet she did, she just doesn’t know what it was and no one in that f*****g pack of hers bothered to try and find out. Seeing how she never asked me to take her back, I don’t think they cared for the little Omega very much. I highly doubt anyone's even noticed she’s gone. Actually, she did mentioned she was supposed to meet someone and give her a letter or something, so that might have tipped them off that she’s disappeared. I wouldn’t put it past them to assume she ran away considering how poorly they’re treated her.

I quickly searched to see if the Thunderbolt pack had filed any reports since I took Stella, but of course nothing about that. Only an announcement about their new Alpha, which I couldn’t care less about.

The thing is, I haven’t found anything that would explain why the King wants Stella, and that’s more than frustrating. You could be the best at finding anything anywhere, but if you don't even know what you are looking for, it is futile. I have to admit, I don’t really know what I’m looking for. Of course, not many Omegas are notably worthy of having their names mentioned anywhere, so that's also no help.

"Oh. So you are a…?" I peel my eyes away from the computer to look at her. Is this woman for real? I watch her for a second, she still seems to be waiting for an answer, a confirmation, maybe. I get that there isn't much to do, and I've allowed her to do what she wants as long as she isn't out of my sight, which means she couldn’t leave the open area of the living room and kitchen. But now that there isn't a spec of dust anywhere in sight, she must be bored. I'm not her entertainment. Yet, I still answer.

"A werebear. I'm a werebear, Stella." I watch as her cheeks turn pink and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I can't decide if I find her ignorant or cute, and that pisses me right off. Since when do I find women cute? Since when am I interested in more than a hole to f**k? And Stella is definitely not one of the women I would go to for s****l relief.

Stella

Grunts, growls and dare I say even screams?

Now my dreams, if ever I had one, weren't all Prince charming, rainbows and unicorns, they were usually filled with things that happened in my life, like the other pack members being not too nice. But this, this is the soundtrack to my most terrifying nightmare so far. Only there are no images in this dream, just sound.

I can feel my body stir a little, and then my subconscious gives way to my consciousness and I start waking up. Yet the sound of someone being tortured, being in pain, in utter agony, persists.

I remain still, not moving an inch, not even breathing, just using my senses to try and figure out what's happening. The room is dark but my eyes are wide open, I can't see much, but I can tell I'm alone. My stomach twists and my heart pounds in my chest.

Despite my room being completely deserted, the sounds of agony restart. My breath hitches when I hear a piercing cry mixed with a growl, a petrifying animalistic sound that echoes again and this time I'm awake enough to figure out what's happening.

I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't. It's not a good idea by a mile to be invading my captor's privacy like that. I should count my blessings and be grateful I'm not locked up in a dungeon somewhere, but instead given a guest room.

To say that I was surprised when Roman declared we were done for the day and that I should go back to my room, would be an understatement. It's not like I did much. To be honest, it felt like a day off, and even those were packed with work around the Thunderbolt pack house for me. I felt like he was trying to mock me for having washed the sheets and was left with a bare bed, but somehow it came out as light banter. I’m not ashamed to say I’ve enjoyed it a bit though I tried my hardest to glare at him and proudly took the sheets out of the dryer before stomping toward what is now my room. Roman seemed surprised, like he didn't even know you could also dry the laundry in the same machine you washed them in. Typical male, I guess. My wolf deemed him impressed as we closed the door and got out of his sight, safely in my room.

My room. I wonder for how long? That’s not something Roman has offered so far, and I didn’t ask. Somehow, asking him about what he plans on doing with me or who his employer is, makes me think it will remind him that he’s supposed to give me to someone else. And I think we’ve already established that I would prefer for that not to happen. I happen to like it here despite only having been in Roman’s home for a day. Which means I should definitely not go into his room while he's sleeping. That would ruin my plan just when he seemed pretty impressed with how spotless his kitchen is.

With my s**t luck, I'll open the door to Roman’s bedroom and instantly be met with a silver bullet between my eyes. But he's my mate, and he sounds like he's in pain, which makes me hurt too. So I guess my mind's made up already.

Creeping out of the plush bed, I mutter under my breath. "Here goes the worst idea ever. I just hope it's not my last one, too."

My wolf, always my biggest cheerleader, some might say she’s my only cheerleader, but whatever, keeps urging me to get to my mate quicker and make sure he’s alright. I move quickly, yet soundlessly across the carpeted hall until I reach the door that I know is Roman’s bedroom. Holding my breath, like that would stop him from ripping my head off, I slowly twist the knob and open the door gently. I didn’t realise I had my eyes tightly shut until I heard another grunt and some more pained pants.

No shots fired, I guess that’s a good sign. I tell myself in my attempt to draw some courage and step inside. The room is huge, much bigger than the one I’m occupying, but just as dark. I search in the blackness of the space for Roman, and when I finally notice his tensed body and limbs jerking on the bed, my heart squeezes. Against every flight instinct that I have, I approach the bed. He’s so deep in his nightmare that he doesn't hear me, and my first thought is just how dangerous that is for a man like him.

A fleeting idea of this being my chance to escape passes me. My wolf smirks smugly when I don’t even consider that option. Instead, I tentatively climb onto the bed and gently put a hand on Roman’s arm. He yanks it away, but I realise it’s not my hold he was trying to escape, it was whatever he’s fighting with deep in his mind.

“Uhm… wake up.” I whisper pathetically. God, this is not the time to feel awkward about calling him by his name.

I try again, this time with a little more effort in my tone, mostly because my heart breaks seeing this huge, strong man, struggling like this.

“You have to wake up.” I put my hand on his shoulder this time and try to shake him a little, already doubting he'd sense it with how much he’s twisting and turning from side to side.

“Roman, wake up, you’re having a nightmare!” My voice is almost a shout. I don’t even have time to cringe at myself stating the obvious, because his body stills and I can tell he’s already snapped out of it.

I withdraw my hand slowly, afraid not to lose it in the process. A low growl is starting in Roman’s chest, nothing like the sounds he made in his sleep.

“I… I… I’m sorry you were having a nightmare, and I thought it was dangerous so I came to wake you up.” I started explaining myself nervously, seriously scared for my life. I don’t think I was ever truly afraid that my mate might kill me. Until now.

In the blink of an eye, literally, my body is thrown against the wall, very close to the door that’s still ajar. I don’t even register the physical pain, only the one deep in my soul.

“Get the f**k out!” Roman yells at me, and I somehow find enough energy to swiftly scramble to my feet, open the door and also close it behind me. I don’t stop until I’m back to the room assigned to me and into the bathroom. Somehow, I feel safe if I’m in the bathroom, which is stupid. Stupid, stupid me. Even my wolf curls into a ball and retreats into the deepest corner of my mind, feeling heartbroken.