Opening my eyes, the withdrawals still shake my body. Even when sleeping, I still have tremors. He's here, holding me tightly to him, not letting me go. It looks like he hasn't slept in days, bloodshot eyes staring down at me.

"It's okay, Meela, I've got you."

Closing my eyes back up, listening to his heart pound away, his breathing even and regular. Sweat trickles down my back, soaking me, soaking him. He's just as wet as me, but he continues to hold me, not paying any mind to his own discomfort, his cramped muscles, his numb arms.

We're on the bathroom floor, his back propped against the wall, while I'm cradled against him.

I'm a foul stinking mess, full of vomit and piss. He's rocking me like a mother would a sick child, cooing softly in my ear.

His hand is on my forehead and my head perched in the crook of his arm, my cheek pressed against his naked chest. I find comfort in this. It's something I haven't had in a very long time and my body craves it.

"It's going to be okay."

He believes his own words even though I don't. I place my hand against his heart. The strong beats increase the longer my hand rests there. He's affected by me, that little touch sends such sweet pleasure flowing through his body, so I take my hand away.

"I'm okay." Saying words while shifting myself away from him, creating space.

"Would you like to get washed up?" He asks slowly.

"Yes."

The Northerner stands and puts my butt against the lip of the tub, so I'm sitting up. He starts the bath water and leaves as I just watch the crystal clear water filling the white bowl. He comes back quickly and brings with him a change of clothes, setting them on the counter.

Testing the water to make sure it's the right temperature, he tries to take off my disgusting sweater.

"I'd rather you leave."

He looks hurt but agrees. Once the door is shut securely, I peel off the offending garments, kicking them in a pile away from me.

Sinking in the lukewarm water, only to scrub myself clean. After rinsing out the conditioner, I get out and wrap a towel around me.

It's in the mirror that I stare back at myself, but no one I know stares back at me. I look sickly. Ashen skin, sunken cheeks. My eyes are drawn to my scars. It always takes my breath away looking at those marks. Faded white lines, running jagged patterns along my arms, over my shoulders, no smooth skin left on my back. I look away in disgust and I dry myself off, dressing quickly. Satisfied that I'm covered completely, I walk into the open space of the house.

He's there, waiting for me, a cup in his hand. "Come and sit." He pats the cushion of the couch. "Feel better?"

"Yes."

"Here." He hands me the mug.

Smelling it, I realize it's chicken soup. My hands still tremble, making it hard to grasp the cup.

"Let me." Taking the mug from my hands to dip a spoon into the hot liquid, blowing on it gently before bringing the spoon to my lips. I swallow the warm liquid down, and it heats my belly. He's giving me nourishment and he couldn't be any happier that I'm allowing him to feed me.

"It's good." I mean it, the broth is so flavourful, I can feel my nausea subside, as he keeps spooning me mouthfuls of the healing liquid.

He keeps cooing encouragements to me, how good I'm doing, that it's almost done, just another spoonful. Every time the spoon dips in my mouth, he swallows an imaginary spoonful down, encouraging me to do the same.

"Do you want more?" Our eyes meet, only for me to shake my head no.

"What's this place?" Looking around at my surroundings.

It's peaceful here, I can hear the birds singing their songs outside. I think I can hear a lake near, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. Almost the feel of a retreat from the life of the packhouse.

"It's my private home, where I come to be by myself."

"I like it."

He smiles at me, a real smile where his eyes crinkle at the sides and his face lights up. I'm witnessing a rare sight.

"I have to go up to the pack house, I won't be long."

He's standing too close to me. 

Reaching down to pick up my legs, swinging them around on the couch so I'm laying down. He places a pillow under my head. Shaking a blanket out, he tucks me in. It's one of the softest blankets I ever felt. Before he leaves, grabbing his wrist to stop him. He looks down at me with a worried expression.

Clearing my throat, looking into his eyes. "Thank you." Once those two words are out of my mouth, it's quick to let the flesh of his wrist go. 

The Northerner's choked up, looking away from me. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath as he walks into the bedroom. When he comes out, buttoning up his shirt, all the way to his neck, covering his mark in shame. Wanting to hide the disgrace that I caused him. As he walks out the door into the fading light of day, I can feel the apprehension pouring off of him, his nervousness of people finding out I marked him first.

He's not gone long, but he looks exhausted when he comes back. Sitting on the couch with me, he undoes the top couple of buttons, tugging the constrictive fabric loose from his neck. He gives a sigh of relief and grabs my feet, putting them over his thighs.

Firm fingers start rubbing my feet. He says something I miss.

"Hmm," Replying with my lids half closed.

Feeling his bond humming, almost purring from the contact with me. Not wanting to encourage it, pulling my feet from his hands, tucking them away from his reach. The loss of contact has him upset at himself, mad for ruining everything between us.

"I said, my mother wants us to go over to eat with the pack. We don't need to stay long. Then we can just come back here and watch a movie or something."

"Does your mom know about me?" Feeling shameful.

"Yes, she was here. The soup's from her."

"I don't remember seeing her." I'm trying to search my brain for a memory, but it just turns up black.

"You were hallucinating... you... you thought she was Charlie here to rescue you."

In that moment I see what he's seen, me on the floor begging his mother to take me away, to share her drink with me, thinking it was Charlie, pupils blown out, lost in my own brain.

I feel a mental nudge, almost like a dog's nose nudging their puppy away gently from something that they shouldn't be doing.

"You need to stay out of my mind, Meela. You won't like what you see."

Ah, he's starting to be able to block my intrusion. Clever, but he can't block his feelings. His emotions are too strong, pouring off him like water. My nose can detect everyone of them.

He's anxious about something. "Say it, Northerner."

"I have to tell you something."

Rolling  my eyes at him, taking a deep breath "What?"

"It's about the females." It's his turn to look remorseful, full of regret. "When..." He swallows, his fingers tugging at his beard. "When I thought you died, the females, all of them... they lost their pups."

Gasping for a breath, the happy faces of Sophie and Thomas rushing in my mind. The Moon spit me back out but kept all the little ones for herself....there are consequences for our actions.

The Moon granted me my life back in exchange for all the ones I brought forth with my heat. A trade. A punishment for our actions against one another.

Craving a drink, wishing I could just wash this feeling away with the swallows of the brown liquid. It could take me away from all this, it could numb me from my feelings of guilt, of remorse. If only I didn't act out, retaliate, always acting rash, never stopping and thinking about the consequences of my actions. In this moment, I make a silent vow to myself to think before I act.

As we enter the banquet hall, the entire pack is there, loud voices laughing and talking, the clang of forks and knives scraping against the plates. The noise hurts my sensitive ears. I trail behind slightly, nervous, afraid of what they're going to say.

The Northerner acts like a wall between the pack and myself. I peek out behind him and step to his right, angling my body so he's still shielding me. I keep a hand gripped onto the back of his shirt, it's fabric wrinkling in my clutching grip. I'm scared of their reaction to me. I'm feeling small and weak, not worthy of being their Luna.

Forks clatter down on the plates as a low hush falls on the entire pack. All eyes are not on me but on the northerner with his collar undone, his fresh mark exposed for the entire pack to see. He forgot to do up his buttons, now he's left to deal with the consequences of our actions.

Stillness. No one's moving. Looks of disbelief, of denial pass around the room. Their Alpha is no longer the male they thought.

I can feel his panic gripping him, I can see it through his eyes: the males smirking to themselves, thinking of challenging this unworthy male, the females no longer thinking of him as worthy to lead. He takes a step back, under the pressure of the scrutiny.

The shame of his youth comes flooding back into his mind. All those guilt-ridden days trap him into inaction.

Without thought, taking a step in front of him, as I feel his hand clutch onto the fabric of my shirt. My body's acting as a shield, deflecting their thoughts from him to me.

I'm disgusted how they turned on him, just like that. He's been good to them, he's always put them first, forsaking his happiness, his future for a pack who doesn't appreciate his selflessness.

Growling out my rage to them, looking everyone in the eye, just hoping someone will challenge back. All it will take is a look, just one look from somebody to have me flying at them tooth and claw.

They should all be ashamed of themselves. He's a strong leader for them, the best they could hope for.

I'm bristling. My happiness was forsaken for these ungrateful, whining wolves and I won't tolerate it from any of them.

"Put your teeth away, little wolf."

Turning my head to see the wolf I have come to know standing there, his composure back. He takes my hand and leads me to the head of the table as the whispers follow behind us.

He takes his spot at the head of the table. "If anyone has something to say, or do, this is the time, but I warn you." He looks everyone in the eye. "Death awaits you." Everyone here shows their necks and tucks tail, squirming in their seats...uncomfortable.

No one has the balls to speak up. The Alpha is back. He undoes the next couple of buttons so the whole mark is exposed. He's not ashamed anymore. In fact, he's proud of how I acted, standing up for him when he faltered, exactly like a true Luna.

"Out of my head."

It's a stern warning. I just can't help myself, I like looking in on the thoughts he tries to hide from me.

The dinner continues as he looks on over his pack. Seeing Thomas peek every now and then at his mark, I give him a growl.

The Northerner's hand on top of my thigh, trying to settle my ruffled fur down. Sophie stays hidden behind Thomas. He's shielding her from me.

Seeing the wine on the table, it's automatic the way the thirst clenches in my throat. I can't pull my eyes away from it. Hearing it whisper to me, calling me to it, just a little sip that's all.

Trembling again, very slightly, enough for him to tell. His eyes fall on where I'm looking.

"It's time to go."

He walks us out, his back straight and proud. while I give a low rumble to the crowd behind him before the door closes.

Pulling my hand out of his grasp. "Don't touch me." Marching away from him, down the trail and into the little cottage.

He closes the door gently. I'm hot again with the need to take my sweater off. Without so much as a look behind me, going into the bedroom, closing the door.

 This day was too much, I'm too tired. "Groaning when I hear the handle turn. "What?"

"I just wanted..." He's stepping closer to me and I start to panic. "To thank you."

I wave it off like it's not a big deal. "You helped me, I helped you, we're even. Now get out."

He smells the air, his eyes turning bright silver. His wolf is whispering in his ear to take me, I can hear him clearly. I back away from him.

"I just want to touch you, Meela, hold you close to me. I won't do anything else, I promise."

"No, get out!" Backing up, my legs hitting against the bed. That sweet lustful smell starts to pollute the air. "Please, you need to leave."

He's reluctant, battling himself until he finally turns tail and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Sighing in elief, but deep down I know I won't be able to hold him off much longer. He'll have me, it's just a matter of time.