Love Like Cyanide-chapter 11
Alpha Idol Paranormal Romance
Chapter 11: Natalie
I manage to survive the four story climb to my apartment, wishing this old heap had an elevator. My already-tired legs are on fire. Keys in my hand, I hesitate with my other hand on the door knob. There’s an almost itchy, tingling sensation between my shoulder blades. It puts me me instantly on edge.
Valentine’s gone so quiet behind me that I have to glance over my shoulder to see if he’s still there. His expression is the same level of serious that he gets just before going on stage, but with an added dash of murderous intent for flavoring.
I exhale heavily, letting the rebuke in my brain stay there. I was dumb enough to say this might go badly, and he was genuinely on the defense on my behalf. It would be rude as hell of me to turn his good intentions away.
Instead, I turn the key in the lock and open the door, flipping on the light switch just inside. Right on my heels, Val shuts the door behind us and steps in front of me. I cross my arms over my stomach, waiting by the door as he prowls through the small flat. The only other interior doors lead to the bathroom and bedroom, but he takes a moment to clear those rooms, too.
He doesn’t even linger in the bedroom, although he did take a second to check in the open closet for any intruders that might have been lurking about. When he steps back into the living room area, I realize that the bedroom had stayed dark. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. And now that he was back where the single floor lamp I have illuminates the space with a dim pool of light, it is unmistakably noticeable that Valentine’s eyes are glowing amber.
I covertly lick my lips, before lightly clearing my throat. “Satisfied?” is all I can manage before he’s heading to check the windows, peeking out the curtains and ensuring that the latches are secure.
“Not in the slightest,” he replies, distracted by what he’s doing. “If I’m being totally honest, I don’t like you being here at all, much less by yourself.”
Val glances over at me, the full force of those definitely-not-brown eyes making me go still. His silhouette is backlit by the distant streetlight filtering through the window, everything cast in shadows. I war with the urge to hold his gaze and to turn away from the intensity of it, patting myself on the back mentally for not looking away. “I lived here before I even worked for the company, Valentine. If I felt like I was really in danger, I do make enough money that I could move if I had to.”
Getting enough money together all at once for the first, last, and security deposit would be rough, but I could manage. It’s only a partial lie. Half-truth. And he doesn’t need to know that.
He’s quiet for long enough that it starts to make me a little nervous. I say his name softly, and his eyes move to my lips, his head tilting slightly to the side before dropping to my hand, where I’ve automatically shifted the grip on my keys so I’m borderline brandishing them like a weapon at my hip.
His stance changes, and he somehow becomes less menacing, despite still being huge. “I’m scaring you,” he says simply. A statement, not a question.
Against my better judgement, I turn the deadbolt and hang my keys on the hook by the door, not taking my eyes off him in the process. “Little bit,” I respond, ignoring the slight quiver in my voice.
Valentine walks over to me, his movements slow and fluid. Predatory but non-threatening. He comes to a stop close to me, pausing to look down at me from a proximity that should have made me uncomfortable as I tilt my chin to meet his gaze. Instead, warmth flows from him in waves as he suddenly drops to his knees before me, his head bowed as he takes my hand in both of his.
A small, flustered sound escapes me that I’m not proud of. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I’ve been saying that you should feel safe with us, and here I am, doing the opposite.”
I press my lips together, eyebrows knitting as I contemplate how to respond to that. Instead, I ask softly: “Why are your eyes yellow, Val?”
He looks up at me, the deep honeyed amber of his irises staying constant. “I think you already know the answer to that, but… Take off the suppressant patches and you’ll know, Doc.”
“That might not be the best idea…” The intensity of his gaze twists things low in my body in a way that I’m not entirely proud of.
“You’ll have more of an effect on me than I already do on you. You’ve gotten used to being around me. Haven’t even been wearing a mask, lately. So, you’re the one who’s hiding, Nat. I have no reason to. Not when it’s just us.”
Us. Something about the way he says that tiny little word is like a knife through my heart, an aching pang in my gut for something I’d always wanted but never truly experienced. To belong. To be important to someone. And Valentine is throwing that word around like the weight means nothing to him, like the idea of “us” is as natural to him as breathing.
He releases my hands and sits back on his heels, his own hands casually resting on his thighs. This is a bad idea. In the history of bad ideas, there weren’t many that would top this one. Yet somehow, I reach up to pull the two large patches from my shoulders without hesitation. I can feel a bit of the residue from the adhesive clinging to my skin and roll my shoulders slightly. I hadn’t realized how much they restricted my movement until I took them off. I toss them into the trash can and rub my palms against each other to dust off the sensation of heaviness the patches always seem to carry with them.
I freeze as I realize two things simultaneously: Val’s eyes are closed, and I can hear his heart beating. I’m at least ten feet away from him, and although it’s faint from this distance, the rhythm is unmistakable. Any other sounds in my apartment are buried under the weight of his pulse in my ears. In my brain.
Why are his eyes closed? Probably for the same reason there’s a growing smile on his face, an expression of pure euphoria overtaking his handsome features. He looks like a man having a religious experience. And he’s sniffing the air, taking in the unfiltered scent of me.
“What am I supposed to find out, now?” I murmur softly, afraid that speaking too loud will shatter whatever’s happening between us.
“You didn’t grow up around people like us, like you, did you?”
“Not even remotely.”
“Then you probably buy into the very human idea that we can’t shift anymore.”
“If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve seen Dante’s eyes turn neon green, and yours are all glowy yellow, I would. Did think that, until recently.”
His eyes open and meet mine at the mention of the other alpha. “Not all of us can, but if the powers that be learned that even some of us can… It’d be more than patches, pills, and injections, Natalie. They’d slaughter us all. Hunt us down, like in the old days. Because humans don’t like the idea of not being the top of the food chain.”
A wave of emotions hits me, sadness, anger, helplessness, hopelessness. And all of it is flowing from Valentine to me. It’s overwhelming, and my eyes fill with unshed tears at the thought of the lives lost when the Culling last occurred.
“If it’s so dangerous, then why are you telling me? Showing me? I’m just a nobody with no sort of pack or den affiliation, Val. Why endanger yourself by letting me see you like this?”
He crawls across the hardwood floor to me, moving on all fours in a fluid, steady motion that somehow comes across as sexy when it should be ridiculous. He sits back on his heels again and rests his hands on my hips, massive palms and long fingers nearly coming together around my waist.
“You’re not a nobody, Nat. You can hear it, can’t you? My heartbeat?” I press my lips together and nod, not trusting my voice. “You can hear it for the same reason you smell like a pan of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, to me. Natalie… You’re meant to be my mate.”