29 An Unhelpful Run

James was almost horrified. But he shouldn't be. He couldn't be. Why was he so concerned about her? It was because Alpha had ordered him to protect her, he was simply following his orders. But why did it all of a sudden feel so easy?

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought for concentration. He was currently trying to read a list of the newly shifted. It was his duty to train them, along with Beta and the other heads.

Alpha only occasionally joined in the training of his Pack, that's why he had a Gamma and a Beta.

The water was still running. He looked up to see her staring out the windows that sat behind the sink. Her dark eyes numb as her dark hair curled at the base of her neck. He wrinkled his nose, 'Ugly little thing.' But yet…

He returned to his work, furious with himself and the thoughts that drifted through his mind. His wolf was raging but he was also content at times. He couldn't understand a thing or think straight.

He needed to think. To breathe. To know what the hell was going on.

He stood up and went up the stairs. Coming back down a bronze chain, strange runes carved into the minuscule links, was wrapped around his neck, partly hiding beneath his curly beard.

Walking back through the kitchen in his heavy boots he glanced and saw the human still observing the outdoors. Although he could sense that her body was as tense as a taut rubber band; ready to snap. He wondered what made her so prepared for attack.

'Probably whatever torture she endured.' He answered his own question. And for the first time, he wondered what sort of torture she'd endured at the hands of the Elves.

He knew their magic damaged life, but she still looked alive, save her eyes. Those were as dead as his, and he knew it. So what had they done to her? Clearly it involved the loss of blood, broken bones. But what had caused such psychological damage?

He shook his head. Why did he care?!

He grunted angrily and stomped out the door shifting as he did.

He headed straight for the trees at the back of his yard.

His heart pounded as he fought the tumult of emotions that immediately overcame him as he shifted. He huffed and had to pause and circle for a bit. His mind too overwhelmed by it all.

Lilla's face flashed in his mind and he groaned. Her blue eyes smiling then hurting and shining with tears. Her body, beautiful, strong but gracefully muscled. Then her blond wolf splayed in the ground, her blood staining every inch of her delicate coat appeared in his mind.

He huffed and continued in his running, his feet nimbly bouncing along the forest floor patched with snow.

He thought back to the previous night, that same fear that he'd felt for Lilla had arisen in him. He growled and slowed in his steps.

Why?

'Why would I be afraid for her? I know she's weak, defenceless and has no will to live. Why would I defend her?' He growled once more. His wolf was no help, telling him to protect what was his but also telling him to mourn for their mate.

He groaned and clawed the cold ground. Why could he not make sense of anything? The human wasn't his, when had she become his?

But… but when Ryan had scared her so much that she'd dropped her mask he'd felt rage. Even now it made his wolf burn in anger.

He knew that it was a Lycan's nature to be possessive but that only related to their mate. Or did it? Why was he now being suddenly possessive of her?

His feelings made no sense and his thoughts were convicting. He needed a drink, desperately. But if he did, then that damned human would stare at him like he was the most terrifying thing in the world.

He grunted in annoyance and snarled thinking of how wrong his life was. If he had just… if he'd just… just saved her, protected her as he was supposed to… then she wouldn't be dead.

He closed his eyes and felt all of the guilt, the remorse, the pain that he felt from losing her.

His mind was then drawn to the fact that the human felt none of that. She felt nothing for the loss of her mate. Her eyes were never tormented like his were; all he saw when her mask fell, was fear. It seemed as though that was the only emotion she was capable of.

He ran for an hour more then he headed back home. His mind had not cleared and he still felt utterly lost.

When he arrived at the edge of the trees that bordered his yard he shifted. Placing his hand on a spruce tree he closed his eyes. Immediately he was awash with guilt and pain, a pain so painful he wished he'd be numb of it. Be free of it.

But no. It was this pain that reminded him of how he'd failed Lilla. It had to be there to keep him in check.

He walked back through the yard, his boots crunching in the snow, and instead of smelling the scent he yearned for, he smelled the sickly sweet cinnamon scent that made his nose twitch. The human's scent.

He closed his eyes once more, attempting to remember his mate's scent; the calmest lavender. His heart, instead of softening, broke.

Arriving at the kitchen door he found that it was still open. He saw upon walking in that she was still standing there, her hand sitting in the running water.

He walked over and turned the tap off, her hand was a worrisome red colour. She turned and looked at him and he felt another burst of anger.

Why had he hurt a part of his family, a part of his Pack, for her? Those hollow eyes warranted no protection from him.