4. Stubborn Little Rogue.

~ LAYLA ~

A little girl rushes in, tightly holding a clear water bottle in her hands.

“Here Uncle Ray, I brought the—”

“Shit!" Raelin shouts, his whole body suddenly tensing up. "What are you doing down here?!”

The girl’s eyes flash wide, but she doesn't flinch at his loud voice.

“No curse words, Uncle Ray,” she scolds him like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Mummy doesn’t know I’m here.”

Who is this?

“Please don’t tell Mommy." Her voice is fast and bubbly. “I don’t want Nora getting in trouble because of me. I just wanted to see—”

“It’s alright Cupcake,” Raelin cuts in, his voice suddenly calm. He crouches down in front of her, looking almost… gentle.

Next, he reaches out to take the bottle.

But the girl pulls it back, holding the water firmly in her tiny hands like her life depends on it.

Fucking little rascal.

Raelin smiles. “Come on, Cupcake. I don’t have all day to play games with you. Besides, your little secret is safe with me.”

His voice sounds so gentle with her, as if he is a completely different person. Even with her silly, annoying resistance, he is smiling at her.

Really smiling.

That smile stirs something deep inside me and I know it's the mate bond, but it is something warm and dangerously close to LONGING for him.

The way he is looking at the girl… it's so full of love, protection.

And completely different from the cold, ruthless glares he has been feeding me since the moment he walked in here.

However, now that I am seeing him like this, I am starting to wonder… maybe he is not completely heartless after all. Maybe I am not going to die down here just yet.

Or maybe, he is just a two-faced asshole who can't wait to end my life.

Well, at least he is giving me water. A small mercy.

That has to mean something, right?

I watch the little girl as she finally hands him the bottle of water. She looks about eight or nine years old with her soft ash-grey curls falling down her back.

Ash-grey curls just like mine except that hers are a bit shorter and cleanier while mine are long and all messy over my shoulders, tangled and dirty from being in this cell.

Damn.

“Thanks,” Raelin says to her, now standing up with the bottle in his hand. “Now run along. We don’t want your mom finding out you are down here.”

The girl nervously plucks at the hem of her blue dress before pointing at me. “But Uncle Ray… why is she locked up here? She looks sick—”

“Marina. Time to go. Now.” He tells her sternly.

The girl frowns at him but doesn’t argue. Instead, she glances at me with big brown eyes full of sympathy and curiosity.

Big brown eyes that are way too sweet and innocent for a place like this.

“I just wanted to say her hair looks like mine,” she adds with a giggle.

Raelin rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed.

With one last glance at me, the girl turns and runs off, her little footsteps fading until everywhere is silent again.

And then, it’s just us again.

Just me and Raelin fucking Michaelson.

He sighs and slowly turns back to me. His softness from earlier has disappeared.

Now, he is back to the cold, angry man I have come to know.

The mate who hates me.

I want to make some sarcastic comment about Marina being nosy, but the pain in my throat is too much for me to talk. The thirst is unbearable now, and the cruel irony of water being right there, just a few feet away from me in his hands, is making the pain even worse.

He walks back to me, his eyes still locked on mine and my heart is beating faster the closer he gets.

A few seconds later, he is standing too close to me. Way too close. His glare is still burning into mine but once again, I won’t show weakness.

“You are lucky I haven’t killed you yet, but don’t mistake this for mercy,” he murmurs darkly, his breath warm against my face, his nose almost brushing mine. “Don’t think for one second that I won’t do whatever it takes to get the truth out of you. You may be my mate, but you are still a fucking rogue who I hate with every drop of my being.”

I want to retort. I want to tell him that I hate him too with every drop of my blood.

But right now, I am way focused on the bottle of water and nothing else. The water is so close. So painfully close.

And I am dying for a drop.

With his eyes still on mine, he twists the bottle cap open and I nearly lick my lips.

“Why were you near my pack’s borders?” he asks, hesitating with the water. “What were you running from?”

I press my lips together, not answering him. I am not trying to be stubborn, but I want to drink the water first and I am not going to say anything until the fire in my throat is quenched.

As if reading my mind, he sighs and lifts the bottle to my lips.

The instant he tilts it, cold water hits my tongue and I almost gasp from the intense relief.

Finally.

The relief feels so damn good, making my knees weak and for a fleeting moment, I nearly forget where I am.

The chains don't matter. Nothing else matters.

All I can think about is this sweet, blessed water streaming down my throat and I am drinking so fast and desperately, not even giving a fuck about how I am gulping huge chunks of water in the presence of my mate.

The bliss of this... it's like having a taste of life after hours of torment.

It’s just me and the water.

All of a sudden, the bottle is pulled away from me, the sudden loss nearly making me whine in frustration.

“Stubborn little rogue aren’t you?” he chuckles and sets the half-empty bottle aside, his eyes narrowing at me. “Now talk. Tell me the truth, Layla.”

My whole body freezes.

How does he know my name?!

“Who told you my name?” I throw the question at him and he smirks.

“You told me the night we met," he draws closer and whispers. "Don't you remember?”

“What?!”

He doesn’t respond to my question. Instead, his eyes drop to the necklace around my neck again, his fingers now brushing it like he owns it.

“And this,” he says, touching the locket pendant. “It’s beautiful. I think I will keep it.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I snarl, forcing the words out even though my sensible reasoning is telling me not to raise my voice at this Alpha who can end my life with one single order.

He pulls his hand back, but not because he is scared.

From the condescending smirk on his face, he is obviously enjoying the way he keeps pissing me off.

Still smirking, he folds his arms, that smug look still fixed on his face.

“I wasn’t really asking, but your locket is not the problem here,” he warns. “The real problem is you and clearly, you have no idea the kind of trouble you are in.”

“I am not afraid of you.”

“Are you sure?" He laughs softly, moving closer to whisper in my ear. "You should be afraid, darling, because if you don’t start talking, I am going to make you wish you had.”

His voice chills me to the bone and I gulp, my stomach twisting with fear but I keep my face straight.

I have to stay strong.

I can’t let him see me break.

Finally, he steps back, setting me free from the warmth of his scent of cinnamon and pines. A scent so maddeningly addictive and making me want more even though I shouldn't.

He glares at me for a long moment.

I glare right back.

“Fuck." He curses under his breath and without another word, he turns and walks out of the cell, the metal bars slamming shut behind him with a loud clang shaking the whole room.

He is gone.

He is really gone.

However, I can't stop feeling the gnawing fear in my veins that I may never leave this place alive.