Chapter 2 The Monster in His Eyes

(Charlie)

I don't remember the walk home. My feet just move, one in front of the other, carrying me through a world that's suddenly gone gray and thin.

She’s lying.

The thought is a desperate chant. 

She’s lying. She’s lying. She has to be lying.

It’s a trick. A cruel, vicious ploy by a jealous woman to shatter the fragile peace I’ve bled for.

Kaleb is my mate. He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

That... thing she showed me was an abomination. Kaleb would never wear that.

My denial is a shield, and I hold it in front of me with both hands as I reach the pack house.

It's dark and empty. He’s not home yet.

A surge of relief almost makes my knees buckle. Good. I have time.

I march into the kitchen on autopilot. I am the Luna. I am his wife. I’m not the trembling, terrified girl who just met a ghost from her husband’s past.

I’ll make his favorite dinner. I’ll light some candles, sit him down, and tell him the wonderful news.

I slide a hand into my pocket. The plastic stick is still there. My secret weapon. My trump card. 

This baby is our miracle. This baby will burn away the shadow Madilyn is trying to cast over our life.

My hope from the clinic feels different now. It's not a gentle warmth. It's a desperate, frantic thing. I’m not just setting a table, I’m building a barricade of normalcy and daring him to smash it.

The sound of the front door opening stops my heart for a second and my wolf springs to attention, a low growl in my chest.

Kaleb walks into the kitchen, looking tired, his black hair messy from the wind. He stops when he sees the table, his eyes narrowing. 

His scent hits me. Pine. Wind.

And something else.

Faint, so faint I would have missed it if I hadn’t met her earlier.

Wild roses.

The fragile shell of denial splinters, unable to contain the truth any longer.

"What's all this?" he asks. His voice is flat. Empty. The voice he's been using for weeks. The voice that makes me feel like he wishes I was gone.

"I made dinner," I say, fighting to keep my tone cheerful.

"Not hungry."

He doesn't look at me. He moves past me, shrugging off his jacket, heading for the stairs. Dismissing me.

"Where were you, Kaleb?" The question is out before I can stop it.

He stops, one foot on the bottom step. He turns his head. "Looking for Ezra."

The same. Damned. Excuse.

"You're lying."

That makes him turn. His eyes, usually a warm gray, are murky and cold.

"What did you say?"

"I met her today," I say, my voice trembling. I hate it. "Madilyn. She told me you've been with her every night."

He just stares. No guilt. No denial. Just cold impatience, like I’m an annoying little dog, yipping at his heels.

"You should get your jealousy under control, Charlie."

The words are a slap. They're meant to put me in my place and the final thread holding my composure together snaps.

"It's not jealousy!" I scream, the sound tearing out of me.

The fragile hope shatters, and there is nothing left but rage. "She's back, isn't she! You've been seeing her!"

"So what if I have?" he snarls, taking a step toward me.

The admission sucks all the oxygen from the room and my hand flies to my stomach.

"She... she said you have a tattoo," I whisper, the fight draining out of me, replaced by a sickening dread. "A mark. To match hers. She showed me."

His face changes. It becomes terrifyingly blank. "You're being hysterical."

"Then show me." My voice is stronger now, fueled by this new, cold fear. "Show me I'm wrong, Kaleb. Please. Take off your shirt and prove her wrong."

He stalks toward me. "You don't get to make demands of me," he growls, the Alpha command thick in his voice, pressing on me, demanding I submit.

"Show me!" I shove him. Hard.

It’s like shoving a brick wall. He grabs my wrists. "Stop it, Charlie."

"No! Let me see!" I fight him, my wolf clawing at the surface, driven by a primal need to know.

He roars and shoves me back. I slam into the wall, the breath knocked from me.

Our heightened emotions cause the mate bond to flare brightly.

It's a clash of lightning. Our anger, our fear... it all twists into a toxic, desperate… 

Lust. 

His eyes darken, and he slams his mouth down on mine.

It's not a kiss. It's a punishment. 

It's rough, bruising, and my stupid, traitorous body ignites. I kiss him back, hating myself, hating him, my hands tangling in his hair.

This is what we do. We fight, we fuck, and we pretend it's fixed.

He breaks the kiss only to drag me, half-carrying me, up the stairs. He’s fumbling with his own clothes, and I'm fumbling with mine, and it's all wrong, but I can't stop. We burst into the dim light of our bedroom.

He rips his shirt over his head, the sound of tearing fabric loud in the silence.

And I freeze.

My hands, which were reaching for him, stop.

There. Coiling over his ribs, wrapping around his side, crawling up toward his heart, is an identical replica of Madilyn’s tattoo.

The same swirling, coiling knot of living shadow. It pulses in a slow, rhythmic beat, like a second, parasitic heart.

"Kaleb...?" I whisper.

He looks at me and the mark on his skin flares, before his eyes...Goddess, no.

They're not gray. They're glowing with an eerie green-black color.

He smiles, but it’s not his smile. It is all teeth and hunger.

"Charlie," he breathes, but it doesn't sound like his voice.

He lunges. His mouth is on mine again, but the heat is gone, replaced by a cold, predatory hunger. 

He’s not my mate. He’s a monster. 

His hands are rough, grabbing my hips. One hand slides down, pressing hard against my stomach.

The baby. My baby.

A jolt of pure, primal terror cuts through the mate bond, through the fog, through everything.

No! This thing won’t hurt my child.

My palm connects with his cheek, the force of it snapping his head to the side.

The sound deafening. 

He stumbles back, stunned. The glow in his eyes flickers. For a second, just a second, I see my Kaleb, confused and lost.

I don't wait. I shove him, hard, with every last ounce of strength I have.

"Get out," I gasp, scrambling away from him.

He just stands there, hand to his cheek, the monster in his eyes warring with the man I married.

"GET OUT!" I shriek, my voice tearing from my raw throat. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"