Bitten (Once Bitten, Twice Shy #1)(43)

"I feel better," she answered honestly. While it was true that she still had a bit of a headache, the unbearable pressure she could vividly remember squeezing her chest was gone.

Bastian inspected her face intently, searching her eyes with his – most likely trying to determine if she was telling the truth or not. Katherine fought the urge to squirm and instead crossed her arms defensively across her chest, determined to continue bolding meeting the man’s stare until he finished.

After what seemed like an eternity, he tore his eyes from hers. “Good,” he grunted, “then we can talk about punishment.”

“What?” Katherine blurted in surprise, further confused when a vague memory of Bastian saying he wasn’t mad at her reverberated in her head.

Huh?

“For running away. You get punished and you learn not to repeat mistakes,” Bastian reiterated and Katherine pushed the memory – or figment of her imagination, whatever it was – to the back of her mind. She allowed anger to consume her as she understood the meaning of his words.

“Who do you think you are? My mother?” Katherine could feel tears briefly cloud her vision as her own words caught up with her. Of course he wasn’t her mother – she was dead.

But Katherine was quickly distracted from her own angst when Bastian abruptly grabbed the mug he'd been from drinking from off the table and launched it at the wall. It shattered upon impact and shards of glass fell to the floor. Brown liquid splattered the wall.

Katherine jumped in surprise, but held her ground even as the man slammed his hands on the table and pushed himself up to his full height. The chair he was sitting on clattered to the floor and he towered over her. Blue eyes captured green ones and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from his fierce stare.

“No,” the man snarled. “I’m not your mother. I’m your alpha.” His voice was lethal and Katherine fought the urge to tear her gaze from his, but his blue eyes had mesmerized her – they almost seemed to be glowing with power. “I’m your leader and you have no other duty – no other purpose – than to obey me.”

Katherine’s body hummed with tension – with disagreement. She wanted to open her mouth and yell back at the man – tell him that she was her own person and that her life did have purpose. That it had meaning that went far beyond his own selfish plans. But she found that she couldn’t – she could feel that intense weight on her chest again. It hurt – made it hard to breathe, let alone talk.

But Bastian was oblivious to the effect his words were having on her and continued his tirade uninterrupted. “Don’t you get it, you stupid girl?" The man demanded. “If you don’t stop this foolishness, you’re going to die!”

The man abruptly shut his mouth – clearly as shocked that he’d said what he did as Katherine.

“What are you talking about?” she asked faintly, finally finding her voice.

Katherine could vaguely remember wisps of other conversations, the nagging feeling that he and the others were keeping something from her. Markus exclaiming that she was a goner when she'd first met him – immediately after she’d denied the existence of werewolves – suddenly had new meaning.

Could – could she really die?

Katherine wasn’t sure if it was her stricken expression or her soft spoken question that caused the change in Bastian – perhaps he had just worn himself out – but his face softened and he picking up his fallen chair, he sat back down with a plop. Refusing to meet her eyes, he gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of the table with a flick of his hand.

For perhaps the first time ever, Katherine obeyed him without question and sat. She needed an explanation and probably would have sat on the floor if he'd demanded it.

Katherine considered her stubborn nature.

Or perhaps not.

She forced her wayward thoughts to quiet so she could listen to Bastian's explanation.

“Many people, especially females, don’t survive the first change.” He said it quickly, the words rushing past his lips.

As if saying it faster would cause her less panic, less pain – like pulling off a band-aid.

Katherine forced herself to remain calm. “What does that mean – the first change? The first time someone… that they turn into a…” she hesitated, her tongue and lips nearly refusing to form the word, "a werewolf?”

The man nodded his head, his dark, shaggy hair bobbing with the motion. “Yes. Some die during the change itself and others days, or even weeks, before – usually of illness.”

Katherine’s eyes widened.

Did… did that mean she had almost… died?

“Is that what happened to me?” she asked as his words registered.

Bastian finally looked at her and up close Katherine could see that the dark shadows under his eyes were more pronounced that she had first thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted seriously. “People who fall ill – it usually happens because their minds refuse to accept the changes their bodies are going through. You… you seemed to be having a difficult time believing in the existence of us so we thought that maybe you were fading.”

“I’m not,” Katherine immediately assured the man – then wondered briefly why she was the one comforting him when she was the one who had a chance of dying.