5. Freya

Sitting up, leaving space for him to sit next to me on the vast white mattress I laughed softly. Tucking my hair behind my ear, “A truce sounds good.”

“Good, because otherwise I’d just be guarding you drunk,” he joked and leapt onto the bed. He was so massive the whole mattress surged upwards and I shrieked, gripping onto the sides as his huge frame came tantalisingly close to mine. Propped up against the headboard he quickly poured us both filthily large measures of whiskey.

“Cheers,” he said as we clinked glasses. I knocked back a wedge of the glass. The fierce burn made me want to cough but I fought against it. Livi was guarded, cautious but at the same time…maybe I need to just switch off the worrying for a bit.

Finn’s huge body made this enormous bed seem way too small. 

“So, I heard him talking to you while I waited down there. He was out of order.”

“He’s lost someone. He tells me to not get lost in the past when he’s a wound-up ball of anger himself.”

“When Alpha Cillian came here before…it was with another lad who looked just like him, same hair, dark eyes. Brother perhaps?”

“Maybe. But I don’t want to think anymore,” I whispered, holding the empty glass tumbler in two hands, staring up at the dusky sky above. 

“Well, then I’m your man,” Finn replied and a dangerous sensation crept into my belly. “Come on. Let’s start over.”

“Then let’s start with another drink,” I reply, as I watch him down his own glass with relish.

The more I drink, the more that dangerous feeling grows. Soon we are playing silly games on the bed, trying to slap each other's hands. I drink some more. I try to teach him girly hand-clapping rhythm games, his huge rough paws swallowing my tiny fingers. 

By now it’s pitch black outside, only the stars above can judge me as I feel that giddy sensation grow to fever pitch. Something is going to happen. I want something to happen. 

“So why are you here Princess?”

“It’s Luna to you,” I slur back with a messy grin. My hair is loose, huge curls tumbling down my shoulders as he stretches and pings a ringlet towards me. “You know why I’m here. My mate has started a war, killed loads of people…got a second mate he loves more.”

“Woah, woah,” Finn says in surprise. “Two mates, I thought he was just allied with the witch?”

“Two wolves…two mates,” I sigh, lifting my empty tumbler up for another refill. The carefree, giddy feeling I was chasing has swirled and distorted. I could either burst out crying or do something insane. I’ve never drunk so much in my life yet all I can see are Finn’s grey eyes watching me steadily. He doesn’t even seem drunk.

“Lucky bastard,” Finn grinned, like every idiot man jokes. “That’s not what you’re meant to say,” I shout and grab a pillow. Quickly sitting up I swing for him with the huge white lump only for him to grab my wrist. In the blink of an eye I am somehow flat on the bed, my wrist with the pillow pinned high above me near the headboard. Finn’s knee is between my legs, his chest just touching mine.

“I know. If he didn’t choose you he’s a fucking idiot,” Finn purrs, his whiskey scent merging with the taste of his tongue as he brings his head down to kiss me. My mind goes blank.

He is a heavy, consuming weight, my breath vanishing as his torso descends onto mine. There are no fireworks or sparks like the matebond. It’s just happening.

I go with it, kissing him back, chasing any feeling, desire, arousal, something to prove I have more to my body and mind than being tethered to the damn Alpha of Rising Star. My mark, once a fizzing, burning link to pleasure, is now an anchor weighing my sensations down. 

Fuck Phillipe. I can do what I like. Who I like.

/Careful/ Livi warns but I’m too caught up in trying to prove I don’t care anymore.

I wrap my free hand into Finn’s sandy hair keeping his lips to mine. I wriggle as his free arm shoots to wrap around my waist. Then his hand creeps under my shirt, those huge digits on my ribcage, each of them teased under his touch, like he is counting them. I don’t know why but the image of a butcher's block springs to mind. Preparing meat.

I chase the thought away, determined to make this situation work. I gasp when his hand shoves my top upwards, his huge body leaning over mine. The stars are gone, clouds have overtaken the night sky. All is dark as he dominates every inch of space with his huge frame. He tweaks my nipples, teasing them and I shut my eyes. 

As Finn’s hot mouth lands on my breasts and roughly sucks at me, I imagine the clear blue eyes of Phillipe. The ones that swore to adore me for every day of my life. To make me his queen in every way. The way he used to treasure my body and bring me to shattering peaks.

Then I realise the feral moans in the room are mine. My legs have widened, intense tingling rushes are racing through me. Heat grows in my core, urgently desiring attention. There is a solid bulge pressing against my thigh, I can easily imagine just how he could get so deep inside me I won’t even know my own name. And I want it.

But only because I am thinking of another man. /This isn’t right/ Livi growls but I can’t push her away. All the whiskey in the world can’t silence my annoying wolf.

“Finn, Finn,” I gasp until I feel a hand around my throat, cutting off my words.

“Shh. This is what you need,” he growls deeply and his huge knee nudges my legs further apart. A hand quickly trails back down my ribs towards the hem of my leggings. However the instant his fingers touch my throat it’s like a panic button has been slammed. 

“Get off, get off, no, no I don’t want this, stop it,” scampering up and away, slamming the crown of my head into the wooden headboard for good measure whilst shoving my silken top back over my chest.

Finn sat up on his knees, hands raised in surrender. “Whatever, sorry. Got it wrong. Most girls go nuts for that throat shit.”

“I’m going to get some water, I think you need to get back to-”

“To being your fucking babysitter, I know.” Finn snarled sarcastically. Then he rolled over to the edge of the bed, making me bounce all over again as I adjusted my red silk top back down. From feeling brave and ready for anything, the whiskey had turned against me. 

“I thought I could…I thought I needed to get back at him.”

“I’m not really interested Princess,” he muttered as he sauntered down the stairs. I looked over the  balcony to see him flopped into a chair, pouring himself another measure, adjusting his pants. Then he takes a lump of wood and flicks out his penknife. 

I quickly pull on a cardigan, tying it tightly around my waist like armour, before trotting down the wooden stairs into the bathroom for a glass of water. I tried to look light, unbothered by neither the alcohol or Finn. I manage it for the most part, keeping my face impassive as I head into the unlit bathroom.

Then I threw up.

In perfect symphony with the rest of my luck, it just goes everywhere. The bathroom is wretched. Pulling myself together I walk out, grab a lamplight and head back in. All I can do is grimace at the orange tinged mess and fight back tears of embarrassment. I know Finn can see the flickering shadows as the lamp shakes in my hand.

“I’m cleaning nothing up!” Finn shouts from outside the door, clearly still in his chair. 

/This isn’t good, well really, it's a complete shitshow/ Livi growls, making my already miserable head pound even harder. As I drop to my knees and grab a bunch of paper towels I find myself wondering what Phillipe would say. Probably the same as Finn. Insults and zero help.

Maybe not at the start, when his blue eyed wolf was ever-present. He’d have probably carried me to my bed, kissed my forehead and made it all disappear for me, via servants of course. I only knew that version of Phillipe for a few short months. 

He isn’t that man anymore.

Purple-eyed Phillipe. The one with a witch for a mate and a thirst for blood would have sneered and walked away. The one who doesn’t love me.

/Tonight has been a mistake. It’s not the end of the world. Start again tomorrow/ Livi cooed softly as I tried not to retch afresh. 

Out of nowhere I wondered what Beta Zeke would have done. He’d have scowled no doubt, those dark eyes probably rolling at me. Yet, for some reason I had a feeling he would have been down on his knees alongside me, helping me to clean up.

I shake my head. I don’t know the guy at all, I’m still drunk. He’s left me here without a second thought so there is no point allowing my whiskey-addled brain to conjure him up as someone who would ever give a shit about me.