Big Bad Wolfie novel Chapter 41

***Maria's POV***

I grunted as they placed me onto the bed in front of Doc.

"That dog MARKED her?!" She gritted next to me, starting her examination.

"Yes, we're currently thinking of the most gruesome way possible to murder him. Do you have any suggestions?" Rose spoke matter-of-factly.

"I think I might have a few," Doc grumbled.

I rolled my eyes with an almost nonexistent smile, because it hurts to move anything.

They're not actually going to do that.

But I love them for wanting to.

It unfortunately didn't do much to fill the hole in my chest left by a certain alpha.

"Well, I can't do much for the mark," Doc said regrettably. "If I try to do anything like stitches, your body will most likely reject it and it'll just put you in more pain."

I feel like banging my head against the wall.

Mating marks are so freaking confusing and annoying.

And painful, apparently.

But that might just be me.

"How long until it's healed?" Brandon asked.

Doc sighed, "About a week, maybe longer."

All of our jaws dropped.

Ow.

"Why so long?" Rose questioned with a furrowed brow.

Doc shook her head, "A number of reasons. The sensitivity of the area, it has to remain open long enough to create a scar, and it's a way to force the mates together." She looked at me sadly. "Closeness with a mate makes it go faster, but. . . I don't think there's going to be much of that going on."

I almost laughed out loud, "No there is not," I rasped painfully.

She nodded. ". . . So! About your side, that will be healed in a day or two with stitches."

I tried to nod but froze, "Sounds good," I said instead.

"Oh, and I'm gonna give you something for your hand to help the scarring," Doc looked down at me, very unamused.

I chuckled nervously. She's referring to the one I sliced with a dagger. Oops.

This is going to be a long week.

~*~*~*~

I looked into the mirror after getting dressed for the day, and my eyes went straight to the mark on my neck.

The ugly thing is finally almost completely closed!

Though, it's being replaced by a possibly even uglier scar.

You can see, very clearly, where his canniness plunged in and how they were torn out.

Cute, right?

Anyway, I haven't seen him in more than a week. I've heard him fighting with Rose and Brandon outside my door. But he never usually gets past that point.

Last night though, while I was pretending to be asleep, I heard him sneak in.

Brandon and Rose must have figured he had given up because he hadn't been showing up lately and gone to get some rest.

I'm glad. They've been looking after me for the past week. They needed some sleep.

But I heard him ease the door open and tread lightly over to my bed. I stayed facing away from him with my eyes closed, trying not to let him know I'm awake.

His scent made tears prick my eyes at the time.

I'm more hurt than I'll ever be angry.

I heard him sniffle from his place sitting behind me.

Is he. . . Is he crying?

I focused my sense of smell and found the saltiness of tears other than mine.

He's crying. . .

I had to hold my breath to prevent from making a sound of sadness.

This man confuses me so much.

He makes my heart hurt.

"I'm so sorry," his voice shook.

The tears escaped from my closed eyelids.

Why would he be pretending if he thinks I'm asleep?

Maybe he knows I'm faking it?

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and it took everything in me not to flinch. But his touch was gentle, and feather light. Almost like he was afraid I'd break.

He sniffled again. "I didn't mean to," he cried, "I swear."

. . . I hate how crazy he makes me.

The one person I can't read, the Moon Goddess makes my mate.

"And Malaki," his voice broke, "as much he likes to come off as the tough guy, he didn't mean to either."

I could feel his hand shaking on my shoulder. "He didn't mean to hurt you," he repeated.

Malaki. . . that must be his wolf.

. . . I

Um. . .

F**k! Why do I want to forgive him so bad?!

His hand suddenly trailed to the exposed mark on my neck, and this time I couldn't help but stiffen.

His hand immediately froze.

Even though the touch was feather light, it triggered a chain reaction of fireworks and butterflies and everything nice.

Only to remind me of everything I don't have.

I don't have stability. I don't have a symbol of love on my neck. I don't have a mate.

I don't have anything this mark is supposed to represent.

"If you're awake," I heard his voice the smallest it's ever been, "I hope someday I can earn your forgiveness."

I let out a shaky breath.