Marked As His

Claire

The night passed by quickly. I had no choice but to comply to my mate's rules until I recovered from my wounds.

Dale had woken me up in the morning, shoving a grey breakfast tray right over my thighs- "rise and shine smelly! It's time for breakfast."

I suddenly awoke and glared at him for the nickname, it had appeared strange to me that this big powerful man, who was a leader of the greatest pack would use the vocabulary "smelly," but I suddenly relaxed my expression and brushed it off when I looked down and saw what he had brought up for me. Placed neatly on a plate was an omelette, some buttered toast and bacon- then to the side was a big glass of orange juice.

"Mm. Thanks." I mumbled, while stuffing my face with the mouth watering omelette on my tray. "Did you make all this?" I asked in a muffled voice. 

"Yea, did you want anything else?" he asked.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, eggs filling my entire mouth and shook my head. "It's really good!" I exclaimed, suddenly wondering why I had just complimented him.

"Suit yourself- and thanks" he said with another one of those smirks while walking out of the door.

When I finally finished my breakfast, Dale had returned, "you should go wash yourself off, so your wounds can be cleaned and heal faster." He had said in a stern and worried tone of voice.

He was right, I hadn't washed up since the day my wounds had been created, no wonder why he called me smelly... shyly, I had asked- "do you have anything that I can change into?"

To my surprise, he had turned around and rummaged through his drawers, tossing t-shirts and briefs behind his shoulder like a child. Then, after a few moments, he finally picked out a large black t-shirt and a large pair of sweatpants and chucked it at me in a childish manner.

"Weren't you wearing these last night?" I asked, holding up the sweatpants by two fingers.

"And if I did?" Dale replied with the most devious smile.

Annoyed, I turned around and found my way to the restroom. When I entered it, the large glimmering mirror had caught my eye. It had been awhile since I had last caught a glimpse of my own reflection so I eagerly took a quick look at myself. My long voluminous black hair appeared to be scruffy and tossed around in several directions, my cheekbones were high and defined, almost as if they had been enhanced but the dirt that stuck to my face and my glowing golden eyes stared back at me. My thin and pale demeanor made me think of my mother. There were spots of dark dried blood that stained my blouse and jeans. My elbows were scraped and my cheeks had reddened from the past few days.

After my shower, I walked back into the room and slipped into the sweats Dale had given me, making sure to tie them extra tight so that they wouldn't slip, and I finally pulled the shirt on over my head, letting it fall down to at least the top of my knees.

I felt like a complete idiot. Dale was at least twice my size, I swam in his clothing. It felt like I had wrapped blankets over me and tied them tight with strings and called it "clothing."

My cheeks turned into a bright pink shade as he had entered the room without warning- "wow, you just look good in everything now- don't you?" he had teased.

"Don't look at me!!" I said with a scowl on my face while crossing my arms against my chest.

Suddenly, a fast blinding bright light had flashed towards me, then I caught Dale slipping his phone into his pocket.

"Hey!" I screamed, "why are you taking pictures of me?!"

I trudged toward him and attempted to grab at his pocket, but he was to quick and he flung my wrist back down leaving me trapped in his grip.

I pretended to wince in pain, even though my wound was in my other arm and he slowly loosened his grip, now concerned. I then reached towards his pocket, trying to clasp my hand around his phone to delete the picture, when he suddenly jumped back.

"Hey! How about we keep our hands outside of each other's pockets?" he had asked with a jock-like expression and a huge grin- as if trying to irritate me.

My cheeks reddened and I suddenly felt embarrassed- "oh... I'm sorry." I said in a low grumble suddenly realizing that he was right. The actions strangely felt so natural, I became to become flushed with nervousness.

"Well you can just tell me your name and I think we can call it good," he said with a joking demeanor followed by a wink.

Ugh, that playful jerk! "My names Claire." I replied anyways.

"Claire," he repeated, "I like it."