They call me Grim (COMPLETED)

Chapter 8: Wolfsbane and red roses

Blake tried to slam the door in her face but she was too fast, flinging it open and sliding in easily.

"I'm hurt," She pouted her pink lips, "Aren't you pleased to see me Blakey?"

"What are you doing here?" Blake hissed. Every part of him wanted to back away from her. But he couldn't do that, not anymore. He was the alpha now, he was in charge. He felt his wolf on alert in the back of his mind, wanting to transform and rip her throat out.

Blake straightened his spine and stared at her coldly, knowing she could detect the change. Her own eyes narrowed icily, revealing a flash of true self, before it was replaced by the little delicate doll facade.

Mary strolled through, walking into the living room and eyeing the sparse furniture and dust. "You've let this place go to ruins, haven't you Blakey? I remember when Gregory lived here, it was so nice. There was furniture for one, and there were always pack members around."

"I'm a private person."

Mary let out a giggle. "I know that, silly. I know a lot of thing."

Blake said nothing as she wandered around, filling the room with her scent of roses and apples.

Mary turned to him, batting her long lashes. "We both know the reason that nobody's here is because no one likes you very much. I'm sure you've tried your very best, but you're still not the rightful alpha. Werewolves are sticklers for tradition. It doesn't help that you're so young, untested and irresponsible. No mate or children either. How can people trust you when you spend all your time here alone?"

Blake glared at her, his mind racing as he tried to see what she was thinking.

Mary sighed, "You and I both know that you'll never find your true mate."

He flinched as if she had struck a physical blow. He was once again reminded of the secrets Mary knew. It was almost too easy to forget that they had been the best of friends.

Blake had spent his childhood following Mary around, listening to her plans and obeying her orders. She was their leader. Mary was the genius of the group, helping them rebel against their parents and organising pranks. Once upon a time Mary had been fun.

She'd also been normal.

There was always something a little different about Mary, but the evil within her only came to the surface around the time they made the Bet. Up until then she'd been a good and loyal friends. Blake and everyone else told her everything, and she always offered support or advice. It was only years later when he thought back on this that he realised Mary had never, ever shared any details of her own life. He didn't know her favourite colour, but he was going to assume it was pink, he didn't know her middle name; he didn't even know she had two older sisters until he became alpha. Mary was an enigma and he knew that was how she liked it.

Blake turned away from her, crossing his arms and cursing her. What was her game? Why was she bringing up Anya? Could she know? Could she know that Anya was here?

"What do you want, Mary?" He asked, not looking at her.

"If you got my postcards you'll know I've travelled all over the world. I had some business to attend to, but while I was there I visited many werewolf packs."

"I know."

Mary smiled at him. "I was visiting all these packs as a chance to look for my mate."

Blake felt sorry for the bastard who was stuck with her for his life.

"I found him; he was a sweet, sickly little thing. He was also very low on the totem pole, if you catch my meaning. He was an Omega, and he was actually happy with that position,' she scoffed.