Chapter Twenty

Alice

"Good morning," I smile as he continues to walk towards us. As soon as he reaches me, he hugs me from behind and lean in to kiss my cheek—letting me close my eyes for a few seconds just to enjoy the warmth of his body.

"Morning," He replies. "I heard you guys talking,"

"I'm sorry if we woke you up,"

"It's fine. What's that?" He points down at my chicken wings before taking a seat beside me, sipping a glass of water as he does so. Luther is just minding his own business but probably wanting to join the conversation as well.

"It's pretty obvious. Chicken wings?" Luther interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh, haven't ate those in awhile." Damon responds.

Luther chuckles, "Pretty sure you always eat them raw."

Damon smirks, somehow agreeing to Luther while I stand still. They both seem to have known each other long enough to have this kind of conversation comfortably—maybe, Luther is the only person that Damon knows in awhile, that hasn't left or passed away. Pretty sure they're both annoyed of each other already but then again, they seem close.

"Well, well, you must get going to bed. The sun's shining through," Damon changes the subject, smiling. Pretty sure he wants Luther to leave us alone but it doesn't take long for Luther, himself, to stand up and immediately disappear upstairs. The way he just moved, was really fast, it was almost impossible for me to see him up the stairs.

Damon, on the other hand, begins to take a few bite of my chicken wings.

"Are you jealous, Damon?" I ask, turning to look at him.

"Me? Jealous?"

"Yes. You. Jealous."

He stands up, looking down into my eyes before grabbing me close by the waist. Then, he starts to lean in to kiss my neck, making me close my eyes in pleasure—not expecting the sparks to flow very intensely. "Why would I be jealous? You're already mine,"

"You don't like it when I talk to other guys," I mutter.

He shakes his head, "I don't mind when you talk to other guys. I don't like it when they think they can make a move on you—I'd rip their heads. Trust me, I can do that when you're sleeping." He replies.

"Damon . . ."

He throws his head back as he laughs, "Come on, baby. I don't mind,"

"So, you're not jealous?"

"No. You're always mine as I am yours—why should I be jealous?"

I glance down at his hand, seeing it gripping hard onto the kitchen counter which causes me to scoff. The way he utter that lie very effortlessly but by the way he is gripping the kitchen counter, I know well enough it might even break. He might even trash the whole kitchen if he wants to. Then again, why would he be jealous? I wasn't doing anything bad.

"Then, why are you trying to break the counter?" I ask, challenging him.

"That's not me, baby. That's my wolf," He responds.

His wolf. The other part of him. I heard rumours saying that he is the only person that has managed to control his own wolf. It used to kill him because he needed to submit in order to proceed. He needed to follow the rules, he needed to understand his wolf and he was slowly losing himself.

If he lost himself, he could've gone insane. Now, he's the only one that can control his wolf by denying his requests, his wants. Even if the wolf wants me—he can just say no. The people here, they do talk a lot about him, especially after I came around. They know I'm his mate because he has never brought a woman home before but they never want to say out loud, not until Damon admits the truth or make it official.

Apparently, they have a tradition to follow.

"Your wolf?" I ask.

"Mmm, he keeps asking me to rip that shirt off of you."

"Damon!"

He chuckles, "By the way, Logan will take you out shopping today in town."

"Huh?" I blink, slightly confused.

"The guy you met when you first came here—he's my beta. I have a few things to attend today and I'll be busy for the new few hours but I promise, I'm free for you tonight." He cups onto my face, "I asked him to take you dress shopping for tonight . . . there's just something special going on,"

"What something special?"

"It's a surprise," He smiles.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Is there like an occasion or just, simple dinner?" I ask, nervously.

He continues to smile, "You're trying to bring it out of me."

I grab his hand, "A little hint?"

"Just . . . dinner, maybe?"

"You don't get to do that!" I laugh.

We both continue to stare at one another. How can I fall deep in love with someone in a matter of weeks? It is as if I've known him for a really long time and we just meet again—it is as if we're stuck in a never ending cycle. I can't help to be attracted towards him because he makes me feel whole. Even by being here, even talking, he comforts me. Maybe, maybe, it's the werewolf pull. It's the mate thing.

I can't feel it exactly but slightly, it makes me feel good.

"Do what?"

"Keep me guessing and stuff," I frown.

He caresses the side of my face before pinching my right cheek, "You're cute, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's not working. You're trying to make me forget,"

"Logan is going to take you out shopping for dresses and then you'll come back home getting ready to look really pretty. We'll meet up afterwards," He says, this time firmly as a confirmation. "Okay, beautiful?"

"Okay,"

"Great. Good," He smiles.

I lean in, kissing him on the lips and we spend the next hour just being cuddled up in each other's arms. Just talking and kissing one another as if we won't ever get enough of this—we'll be separated for a few hours because he has things to do and I'll go out shopping with Logan, how would that even go well? What if Logan continues to be that smirky little brat?

--

I look at myself in the mirror, standing in a pair of jeans and a tucked in white shirt, revealing my cleavage slightly. It's the only shirt I brought that seems casual enough for a walking around town especially when it's pretty hot outside. I glance one more time at myself before putting on my pair of sneakers and begin to make my way down the stairs.

As I walk down the stairs, I slowly tie my hair up into a ponytail.

Logan is already standing near the windows as he waits for me.

I clear my throat, "Hi."

He turns around to look at me, "Hello."

"We meet again . . . it seems," I hold my hand out, waiting for him to return the handshake but he walks away, leaving me completely hanging but I ignore it as I follow behind him—trailing like a lost puppy.

Once we're outside, I see that he has parked his car up front which would make it easier for us. We get into his Ford Mustang and he starts to drive away, "Very American." I mutter under my breath with a wide smile plastered on my face, remarking about his car—he seems to have heard it but he responds only with a smirk of his own.

"You know, we can actually have a decent conversation and become friends." I add.

"What makes you think I want to become friends?" He raises an eyebrow, glancing towards my direction before pressing a bit harder on the gas pedal.

"Well . . . you're taking me out shopping and I'm guessing I'll be seeing you more often. This won't be the last time—it won't be much of a trouble for us to be friends. It'd actually make me feel better, at least I know someone other than Damon." I respond, continuing to look at him. "I did help you get your jacket."

He scoffs, "My jacket? To return the favour, we have to be friends?"

"Why don't you want to be friends? I'm actually pretty friendly,"

"I can't become friends with the luna,"

Just as I'm about to say something, he starts to increase the volume of the song playing on his playlist. Positions by Ariana Grande seems to be blasting through the speakers which causes him to frown before immediately skipping to the next song, which is to my surprise, also a song from Ariana Grande called Into You.

Oh, baby, look what you started,

The temperature's rising in here,

Is this gonna happen?

Been waiting and waiting for you,

"Big fan, huh?" I chuckle, causing him to change the song again.

It doesn't surprise me anymore to find another song by Ariana Grande called God is a Woman. Apparently, I quite like this song because of the beat and how it is about women empowerment. To find that this song is available in his playlist, it's kind of a good start of our friendship. We have the same taste in music when it comes to pop.

You, you love it how I move you,

You love it how I touch you,

My one, when all is said and done,

You'll believe God is a woman,

And I, I feel it after midnight,

A feeling that you can't fight,

My one, it lingers when we're done,

You'll believe God is a woman, "It's my sister's playlist," He immediately presses on the stop button before turning off the screen, not wanting to listen to any other musics. "She was driving this car yesterday," He adds.
"Yup, of course." I smile.

"Don't ever talk about this to anyone,"

I laugh, trying to cover it up. "Yeah, of course. Not going to,"

"I mean it, Alice."

"Noted. Your secret is safe with me!"

Logan clears his throat before continuing to drive down the road, letting me gaze out the window to appreciate the view. It is always amazing whenever I travel, doesn't matter if it's the same country or I choose to travel overseas but seeing something that I cannot see everyday, it's always a joy to me. Ever since I was little, I've always spent most of my time travelling.

My parents have always enjoyed travelling too. Whenever papa has work to do and he has to visit his other office in another country, he'd bring his wife and daughter along. We started to grow fond of travelling and we would feel weird if we decided to skip it—I've always loved the new scenery.

Then again, that is how I know life is short. In a glimpse of an eye, someone can lose everything without them even realising. Therefore, travelling and seeing different things would be so much better. We'd be able to understand how big the world is, how much that we have left behind to discover.

"If you, could turn it back on, it'd be great." I mutter.

He glances at my direction for a few seconds before turning the song back on, making me nod my head to the beat; even though Logan and I aren't that close, we barely even know each other but I'm trying my best to not make the situation even more awkward. I know he probably doesn't want to talk to me but I'll make it work.

Damon trusts him. Logan is apparently, his beta.

"Logan," I call out.

"What?"

"What is a beta?" I ask, waiting for his answer.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know,"

"A beta's like a second man. A wingman?" He raises an eyebrow, even confused by his answer.

"So, you help Damon with things?"

"Yeah, when it comes to pack duties. I always help him out," He adds.

"That's . . . actually pretty cool,"

"Mmm."

What a way to put an end on our conversation.

The next few minutes is spent being quiet in the car as I enjoy the scenery. Without me realising, we have already arrived in front of the shop making me step out of the car as soon as Logan does the same. I gaze up at the store, seeing that everything in there seems fancy, it must costs more than hundreds for a single dress but they look beautiful, they are extravagant.

"Wow, they're really pretty." I mutter.

He nods, "Damon says you have no limit. Pick whatever or how many dresses you want,"

"Really?" My mouth falls apart, making me blink a few times.

"Yup, go ahead. Knock yourself out," He replies.

We both make our way towards the store before stepping inside and I am actually mind-blown by the amount of beautiful dresses, making me yelp in happiness. Logan, on the other hand, continues to pretend as if he doesn't know me as he walks ahead; leaving me behind on my own.

I manage to grab a few dresses because they have attracted me.

It takes me awhile to realise that after all the dresses and trying them on, a couple of hours have passed. What I appreciate most is that Logan didn't even ask me to leave or ask me to hurry up, he helped me to pick out the dresses and now we're walking down the town to look for heels—in which he manages to choose the one I like.

Now, we're walking side by side with a ice cream cup in my hand.

"You know, you actually kind of like me." I say, breaking his trance.

"What makes you think that?"

"You're treating me nicely,"

"Just because I don't want to get smacked by Damon,"

I squint my eyes, "Hmmm, I don't believe that. You're the type to smack him back,"

Logan smirks, continuing to walk before glancing down at his wrist watch. "We should get going,"

"Okay, let's go." I respond.

We walk back towards the car but as soon as we reach his car, I immediately remember that I have forgotten my purse back at the previous store—making me turn around to look at Logan. "I think . . . I left my purse in the store we just went," I mutter, grinning.

"You mean, the one at the end of the road?" He asks.

"Yeah . . . I'm going to go get it,"

"Don't trouble yourself. Wait here," He starts to walk away as I wait beside his car, continuing to eat my ice cream. We could've just went back to the store together but I feel as if I might hold him back because his legs are, in fact, longer than mine so he'd reach there faster. At the same time, I don't even want to cause him any trouble.

I look around, minding my own business.

When, all of a sudden, a sharp and stinging pain emerges in the side of my arm which causes me to turn and see that a large needle is already pierced into my skin—somehow like a dose of drug. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I look around, trying to find the source and as soon as my eyes land on a familiar figure, I immediately fall down onto the ground.

My entire body goes weak and almost unconscious.

As my vision goes entirely black.