Chapter 10 - Mia

I don't know what I was thinking, half-shifting and climbing on top of Evan, but when I looked over and saw how peacefully he slept, a feeling of pure rage bubbled up inside of me. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip him apart. That silver must've done a number on me because the only part of my body I could get to change was my hands, but that was enough to do the job.

And I got damn close, too. But now that he's awake, he's looking up at me with the most haunted look in his eyes. He's panting and sweaty, and for a minute, I forget that I was trying to attack him. The way he's looking at me, it's like he's not even here. It's like he's not aware that I'm sitting on top of him with my claws wrapped around his neck.

He's just lying there, staring at me. His eyes are so sad, so broken. I've never seen anyone look so... lost. And for some strange reason, it makes me want to comfort him.

"Evan?" I whisper.

That one split second is all it takes to lose my advantage. Before I can react, he flips me over, and now, he's on top of me. My claws have retracted, and all I can do is push at his chest and try to wriggle free. A single drop of blood trickles down his neck, but other than that, I didn't do any damage at all.

"What the hell was that?" he demands.

"Get off me," I hiss, bucking my hips and trying to push him off. But his knees are pinning my legs down, and I can't get a good position to leverage him off. My left arm is still chained to the bedpost, and my right arm is trapped under his weight.

"Did you really think a few scratches would kill me?" he hisses.

"No, of course not. But to be fair, I was trying to slit your throat so I get the hell out of here."

"Where would you go? Huh? If you think I wasn't smart enough to post guards outside, then you didn't learn a damn thing yesterday. You're stuck here, Mia. You can't escape."

"Maybe not, but I'm sure as hell not going to make this easy on you."

He lets out a soft chuckle, and he rests his forehead on my chest. Evan still seems rattled, presumably from whatever dream had him so distressed, and I don't have the energy or the heart to push him away. Empathy has always been my weakness. Anytime I see someone in pain, I immediately want to comfort them. It doesn't matter who they are or what they've done. It's an instinctual response, one I can't always control.

"What were you dreaming about?" I ask.

He lifts his head and stares down at me. I'm expecting him to make another sarcastic remark or brush off my question, but instead, he looks almost relieved.

"It was a nightmare," he admits. His voice is quiet and distant, and I can hear the fear in it, but he doesn't elaborate.

"Tell me about it," I insist. "It might make you feel better."

"Trust me, it won't."

"Try me."

I can't explain why, but I need to know what was so terrifying that it left him looking like that. Like he was ready to crawl out of his skin and run. It was more than just a bad dream. There was something deeper there, and it had nothing to do with me.

He sighs and rolls off me, lying on his back next to me. We both stare up at the ceiling. The silence is uncomfortable. Just when I think it's going to drag on forever, he starts talking.

"After everything I've done to you, why would you care at all how I feel? Why would you even ask?"

"Because I can't help myself," I answer honestly. "My dad always used to say that empathy is a double-edged sword. It helps you relate to people, but you can let it cut you deep. I have a hard time turning mine off, no matter what. It doesn't matter how much of an ass someone is. If I think they're hurting, I want to fix it."

"That's what's going to get you killed one day, you know. Caring about people who don't deserve it. It'll only end up getting you hurt."

"Yeah, well, not everyone is as heartless as you are. Some of us actually care about the people around us."

"It's not heartlessness, Mia. It's called survival. Sometimes, you have to make tough choices. You have to choose the ones who are most important, and then you have to do whatever is necessary to keep them safe. Even if that means you have to be the bad guy. Sometimes, it takes a heartless person to keep others safe."

I consider his words, and something in them resonates with me. As Evan is an alpha, I have no doubt that he's faced some incredibly difficult decisions, and no matter the outcome, the blame will always fall on him. I've never really thought about how hard that would be, to bear the responsibility for someone's life or death. But now that I have, it makes a lot more sense why he acts the way he does.

I reach down under the covers to find his hand, and when I do, I thread my fingers through his. To my surprise, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he lifts our hands over the covers and stares at them for a moment. I'm not sure what's going through his mind, but after a few seconds, he drops them and closes his eyes, squeezing them so tight that it looks like he's in pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "Evan," I murmur, reaching out and cupping his cheek with my free hand.

He flinches, his jaw tensing. He grabs my wrist. "Don't," he grits out.

Every trace of vulnerability is gone. He's back to being the cocky, arrogant bastard I've come to expect. He's closed himself off again, and when I try to pull my arm back, his grip tightens.

"Let me go," I demand.

"Or what?" he taunts, giving my wrist a squeeze. "What are you going to do, Mia? Attack me again? You should have done a better job the first time."

"Why are you such an asshole? Can't you ever be a decent human being? Or at least a decent wolf? Do you always have to be such a dick?"

He sits up, pulling me up with him, and brings his face within inches of mine. The dark look in his eyes and the menacing grin on his lips send a chill down my spine. My heart races.

"I'm not a nice guy, Mia. I never have been. I've told you before that the sooner you accept that, the easier things will be for you. If you can't, then you'll only end up hating yourself for it later. Trust me."

He's so close, our noses are almost touching. The look in his eyes is fierce, and I can feel his breath on my skin. For a second, I forget to breathe. His expression softens, and I get the strangest urge to lean forward and kiss him. But when he opens his mouth, the moment is gone.

"Don't think for a minute that you can manipulate me with your kindness. You can't. So, you might as well stop trying."

My cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment, and I yank my hand out of his grasp. "You're an idiot," I spit out.

I scramble as far away from him as I can and curl up on my side, facing away from him. If this stupid cuff wasn't around my wrist, I'd jump off the bed and run as fast and as far as I could. But it is, and I'm stuck here. So instead, I try to ignore him and pretend he doesn't exist.

"Goodnight, Mia." There's something akin to regret in his voice, but I'm not letting it get to me this time.

"Fuck off."

"Much better," he comments, and I feel the mattress lower as he rolls to the opposite side.

Good. The farther away, the better.

The bed shifts again, and the covers rustle as he moves around, trying to get comfortable. When it settles, we're further apart than before, and I relax a little bit. After a few minutes, I realize that I'm exhausted. It's been an incredibly long and stressful day, and the adrenaline that's been coursing through me is gone. My eyes are heavy, and my body feels numb.

I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll dream of home and wake up in my own bed, surrounded by my family. Maybe it will all have been a horrible nightmare. My sister will make pancakes while my brother makes a joke about how my dreams have gotten too graphic and maybe I should lay off the caffeine.

But as I drift off, I know that's not going to happen. Deep down, I know this isn't a dream. This is real, and there's no way out. This is my reality. Evan Woods is my reality. And tomorrow, when the sun rises and I'm forced to face him, I'll have to figure out how to deal with it.

The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep is the sound of Evan's deep, steady breathing.