That bastard. Who does he think he is? Playing with my emotions like that as if he's some sort of puppet master.

Snapping my jaw shut, I grind my teeth and angrily replace the cover on the ziti. 

He's such a bully, pulling me around at will, and I don't know who I'm more disappointed with, him, or the fact that I wanted our exchange to end much differently. I try to convince myself that it's only my wolf's instincts to be drawn to him, that there is no way I would be attracted to him...

I throw the rest of the ziti in the fridge, no longer hungry, and storm into my room, stomping my small feet on the floor as loud as I can. God I am so juvenile. But I am so filled with pent up rage and frustration and heat that I just want to explode and provoking an argument is my main focus. Probably not the best idea when you're living in the same wing with a murderous alpha but at the moment I couldn't give a rat's ass.

I reach my room and listen for any footsteps that would indicate he had heard my rampage and was coming to chastise me. All I hear is empty silence. So with a growl, I open my door and slam it as hard as I can, the sound resonating throughout the empty halls. I wait, facing the door I expected to fly open to reveal a furious alpha. But again, nothing. In frustration, I turn away from the door, and gasp.

In all the hours I had been in the wing, I had yet to see my room. The walls are a pale pale beige, rose-gold almost, with of course, a golden trim. The bed is large, probably king-size, with a fluffy and puffy white comforter under a mountain of white pillows. I just want to collapse on top of it, but I see myself in the mirror across from me, which lays against the wall next to the bed. My bed. I look as terrible as before, and I am in desperate need of a shower.

I step farther into the room, and I see a white door to the side, and upon entering, my feet touch cold tile of a bathroom. 

A large bathtub sits in the center of the room, accompanied by a long white counter, and wall length mirrors. It's pristine. Perfect. Cold.

I walk over to the bath and turn on the faucet, running my fingers under the already warm water. Everything about this room, this wing, this mansion is perfect. Clean and cut, but cold and empty. I guess a home is the reflection of its master.

Octavius is perfect and godly, so insanely and impossibly exact. But I can sense his need for something to matter. For something to live for. For all the art and decorations he has all over his wing, I haven't found one picture of parents, of a laughing and happy couple. The guardians of a beautiful child. His home is devoid of emotion or love. And, like the Beauty and the Beast, he wants, no. He needs that sense of passion. But I don't know if I can be Belle. I don't know if I could love a monster. But then there is the lingering question...would he be able to love me? Do I want him to? 

As a child, I would sit in my mother's lap by the fire, listening to the story of how she met my father, how, once they realized they were mates, their love for each other grew stronger and stronger. I would stare up at the night sky through my bedroom window and pray that my relationship with my mate would be as loving and caring as my parents. I was such a fool.

I strip from my clothes, and slip under the bubbles and the water, relaxing into the cushioned edge of the bath.

Tomorrow I will go out and see how the rest of my pack is, Moonrise pack that is, I haven't even seen any of the Blood Moon members who aren't soldiers. I wonder where the women and children live. If there are any.

I think of little Lacy and Charlie. I haven't seen them since the age groups were divided. If he hurt them...

Don't think about that. I say to myself.

That's been my mantra since coming here, to just be as cold as the rest of the pack. To just, let go. But there are some pasts that are impossible to release.

I pull my head under the warm water, allowing my entire body to be submerged in water. The silence is so peaceful, as I close my eyes and attempt to drown my thoughts in bubbles and suds. The water is so smooth, and I feel myself sliding deeper into sleep, still submerged fully in the water.

Maybe if I just stay under a little longer, mother will come back, and she'll teach me to paint with water color, and father will smile as I find a true and honest mate. Maybe the coldness in my life could just slip away...

The edges of my life blacken, and I don't think about time, and the amount I've spent without oxygen, until my lungs are flattened and asleep, and I attempt to fall into a deep deep sleep...

Reality comes crashing back in the form of strong hands on my arms pulling me through the surface of the water, into a sea of oxygen and light.

I gasp, air entering my paper flat lungs and filling them once more, inhale, exhale. I am on the cold tile floor, and I grab a towel to wrap around my shivering form.

Once my lungs have stopped screaming, I push my wet and tangled hair out of my face and stare at the man who ended my peaceful descent.

Octavius is slumped against the cupboards, breathing heavily, his eyes slowly turning back to their beautiful royal blue. He stares at my feet, unable to meet my gaze.

"What-" I gasp, still not used to the weight of oxygen. "What are you doing here?"

He looks up at me suddenly, his eyes filled with some unreadable emotion, and he turns towards me.

"What was I doing?" He says, and scoffs. "What the hell were you doing, Alessandra? You almost fucking died!" He's closer to me now, sitting back on his heels, but still towering over me.

"I-I" I stutter, trying to find the words, my mind a dictionary without vowels, unable to speak at all.

"What the fuck-" He exhales, letting out a puff of filled air. "Why-" He leans against the tub, placing his head in his hands, shaking his head furiously.

There is a thick silence between us, and I have a handful of letters that I have no idea how to use.

I scoot closer to him, the towel thankfully large and able to cover from my chest to my knees.

"How did you know I was here?" I whisper, letters finally falling into place on the edge of my lips. He looks up from his hands, and so close to him, I can see how broken his eyes are, the perfect blue filled with storms and nightmares.

"Because I could feel you, I was drowning with you."

I am silent, the handful of letters falling from my fist, leaving me with Xs and Qs and I have no idea how to get them back. I feel like I am losing my mind and I don't want to go insane. I don't want to disappear. I don't want to lose my warmth.

"How-" I stutter, illiterate.

"The bond." He states plainly, staring back at his bare feet, and he shuts his eyes, his long lashes falling almost to his insanely high cheekbones. "I was sleeping, and I saw you, falling under the water, falling away." His words are so quiet, I almost don't hear them. It's as if he is talking to himself, attempting to console himself.

"I'm..I'm sorry, Octavius." I whisper, and I reach my hand out to touch his which rests on his lap. But he flinches at my movement, scared of my warmth. I look down at his hand, now resting on the floor, away from me. But his eyes are still dark, fading to black at the passing of his name from my lips.

"It's late." He says suddenly, plainly, clearing his throat and stands.

"I-" I need to say something, I need to keep him near, my wolf needs it. Needs him. "I have no pajamas." I finish sheepishly.

He turns to me, and I pull my towel tighter, suddenly feeling so vulnerable to his gaze.

"You may borrow some of mine, wait in your room." He states, and then he's gone, disappearing as soon as he came.

I am too tired to argue, and I stumble into my room, and onto the heavenly bed. It is as soft as a kitten, and as plush as a cloud, and it feels like the warmest hug.

He returns a few moments later, holding a grey shirt and a pair of boxers in his hands.

"Um, we will get you undergarments tomorrow." He mumbles, handing me the clothes, and my fingers brush his as he passes them. Tingles spread down my arm, making me shiver with warmth. He straightens and dashes from my room, closing his door quietly behind him.

"Goodnight." I whisper, and pulling his clothes over my head, I fall into the bed, and into a safe sleep, surrounded by pillows and the scent of burning cinnamon. 

edited  - V