The Mates of Monsters

Chapter 4

One of the Alpha's men knocks on the door of one of the few guest houses as I stand behind him with my bag of things my mother threw together. I stare at the ground between my feet, thinking over the conversation I had with my parents after dinner. All I had to say was "the Alpha is my mate," for my mother to nearly enter cardiac arrest. And as usual, my father didn't say much.

I sat on my bed as my mother packed some things to stay the night. I'm sure I would have been arguing with her, but my mind was consumed by everything-it still is. There were a couple things I could focus on as she rummaged through my drawers and bathroom: the Alpha is my mate, he's going to make me leave, and I have to escape-somehow.

The door of the guest house opens. I look up and sigh. The Alpha dismisses my handler and brings me inside. I've never been in the guest houses before; they are only for important people.

"You have everything you need?" He asks me.

He's shed the formal clothes he was wearing earlier. It feels strange to see a foreign Alpha so casual.

"I just want to go to sleep and wake up having realized this was all just a dream," I say. "So please, just tell me where my bed is."

"You know, I am your mate. You're welcome in my bed."

I nod slowly, one single motion. "That's okay. Keep your bed, David. I like to take up a lot of space, really stretch out."

He watches me as hints of curiosity begin to show on his face. I've called him by his first name. "Besides," I add on, "I don't sleep with men I've just met."

Without an argument, he leaves me in the spare room.

I change out of my dinner clothes and into the pajamas my mother grabbed from home. My body lowers onto the guest bed after I shut of the light. Moonlight hardly shines through the curtains closed over the windows.

I can feel him through the walls, as if his heart beat vibrates against the floor beneath me. All my ridiculous mind can think about is how close he is. My arms wrap around the spare pillow with a deadly grip, wishing that life would bloom from the feathers stuffed inside, wishing I wasn't as alone as I am for a girl so painfully close to her mate.

How can I try to play the game if he's already seeping through my barriers? I need to get a hold of myself before he does.

Morning comes for me, but I refuse to welcome it with open arms.

I can't leave the bed. I don't want to face what's on the other side of the door. Instead, I continuously fall back asleep, ruining any sense of a sleep schedule I may have had. My mind tilts back and forth between waking and sleeping until my body refuses to shut off one more time. My eyes watch the ceiling then, and once I've traced every inch of crown molding twice, I turn to the wall, then the next, and the next, and the last.

A firm knock sounds against the door and I freeze, contemplating if I should pretend to be asleep or not if whoever it is attempts to open it. The handle squeaks and turns, so I quickly turn on my opposite side and hold my breath.

The door glides open. Two footsteps enter then suddenly cut off. "Brigette, what on earth are you doing?"

My mother.

"It is four in the afternoon. Why are you still in bed?"

"I don't want to do this right now," I mutter, keeping my back to her.

"The Alpha may be too kind to get you out of bed, but we both know I am not. You are creating a bad impression, Brigie. Imagine what he must think."