AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Things?” he asks, seeming a little confused. “As in more than just your heat?”
I can’t help but smirk, wondering how much he’s experienced of a woman and her heat versus just knowing the basics.
“Well, there is the bleeding that comes along with it,” I say, and he groans.
“Shit. Yeah.”
“I’ve been gaining a little bit of weight,” I mention, looking down at my body, in particular at my boobs. I’ve increased a cup size, which isn’t much, but when I had nothing there, it’s a noticeable increase.
“I’ve noticed,” he says, but where it sounds rude if the words are taken out of context, there’s so much pride in his tone. I knew I was underweight. I knew I wasn’t healthy, but I’m doing better. Orson is making sure I’m eating regularly, and even if I still don’t have a proper shifter appetite, we’re getting there.
“Why don’t you try napping?” Atticus asks, and I shrug. “You didn’t sleep well last night, little queen. It’s a long drive.”
He reaches over to the radio and fiddles with the stations before settling on a pop station. Somehow, despite the upbeat music, I end up drifting off.
* * *
“I’m scared,” I whisper, and Atticus immediately stops the car. We’re still an hour or two from the pack, and the road we’re on is pretty empty. That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about us just stopping in the middle of the road, though.
“Is there anything I can say to help reassure you?” Atticus asks, and I consider his words for a brief moment before shaking my head.
Whilst I’m sure he’s trying to be helpful, it’s not. I don’t have the answers, and it’s not like I know how to process my emotions very well.
I either shut down or try to kill myself.
I’d be a terrible main character in a book because as soon as something inconveniences me, I’d just kill myself.
Kidnapped by a man as revenge for my father hurting him? Oh, sorry, I’m heading to an early grave. You’ll have to get your revenge elsewhere.
I’m not the most stable of people.
“No,” I murmur. I cross my legs, my shoes having been kicked off a good few hours ago, and I turn so that I’m facing him properly. The seatbelt is digging into my neck uncomfortably, but I know better than to move it.
Now.
I tried a little while ago, and Atticus was not very pleased.
“I think it’s normal to be nervous about seeing my family after this long.”
“After everything they did to you, of course, it is,” Atticus says, and I nod. “But, Nora, you’ve got no need to worry. If they say even one thing to upset you, I’ll demolish this entire pack and make them all become rogues.”
I flinch, and his large hand rubs my knee in a soothing gesture. I know he’s not lying about his promise, and he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Well, his lion would.
But I hope the man I love is much more rational than that. Atticus would hopefully think it through before acting.
Let’s just hope Mal is too busy to convince him otherwise.
“Let’s keep going,” I say, and he nods.
But after about ten minutes, I realise something is wrong. I don’t know what’s causing it. Is Atticus feeding off of me? Is my anxiety making him more anxious?
From the moment we’ve taken off, he’s been constantly checking out the windows, his eyes darting around as he seems to be searching for something.
There’s a rigid sense of foreboding within me, a pit in my stomach, combined with the tingles at the back of my neck.
There’s something happening. I can feel it.
