Lycan's Mate (His Claim) Chapter 81

Fiona's POV

A never ending silence filled the small room as I practically felt his eyes bore holes on the side of my head at my words. I didn't dare spare a glance in his direction, afraid of what I might see in his dark, penetrating eyes. I tried my hardest not to flinch under his heavy gaze, but I found myself doing so after his next words

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" He asked slowly through gritted teeth, agitation leaking into his deep voice

I shrugged once more, finding myself doing so a lot in such a short amount of time.

"It happened a long time ago," I said in a soft whisper as I closed my eyes and took in a deep, shallow breath. The unwelcoming feeling continued to erupt from deep within my chest and I fought harshly to push it back down. Many times have I felt this before and I had controlled it with ease. But for some reason, tonight, I was finding it difficult to push it back and store it deep within the corners of my mind

"You know, you can always talk to me about it if you'd like," Blake said sincerely

I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at him from the corner of my eye and noticed him smiling down at me. It was then that I noticed how he had shifted his body to face in my direction while leaning forward so he was closer to me. An inaudible gasp escaped my lips as I stared into his deep, dark eyes. Under the bright lighting of the lamp that hung loosely above our heads, you can actually see their true color. They were the color of burned honey and I was suddenly brought back in time, remembering all the times where we had sat outside in the woods and I had begged him to look up into the sun, just so I could see their true hue. I found myself being mesmerized once again by them and I paid little to no attention at all to how he was slowly leaning forward, closing the small gap that still lied between us

Within an instant, I was brought back to reality by the touch of his left hand against my right arm, jolting me back to the conversation we were previously having. My heart quickened in pace under his touch and my mind seemed to run a thousand miles a minute, all in a matter of seconds. Flashes of my mother's angelic face and her sweet, warm smile filled my mind and I did the only thing I ever did whenever someone tried to pry information about her out of me….I shut them out

He clearly hadn't suspected what I would do next by the look of bewilderment clearly written on his features as I did so. One second I was sitting down in front of him, awestruck by the deep emotion clearly seen swimming around the depths of his eyes. Now, I was standing up in front of him, taking hesitant steps away as he continued to stare up at me in confusion. My arm still stung from the electrifying bolt that coursed through my body the second his fingertips collided against my bare skin and I found myself rubbing it absentmindedly as I looked around the room, my rapid breathing coming out in shallow breaths.

"I think we should go back to bed. It's getting late," I said hurriedly before spinning around and making my way into my bedroom. I didn't bother making sure that I had closed the door behind me right as I made my way towards the bed and covered the length of my body in one swift motion, my back facing the door

I snuggled myself against the plump pillows, wiping a tear that had unfortunately escaped my eye without my knowing, until the sound of his voice filled my ears

"Why do you always build up your walls around me, Fiona?" He whispered helplessly with a soft sigh as the lights of the living room were suddenly shut off.

I continued to listen to his soft footsteps as he made his way towards the couch before the sound of it creaking beneath his weight led me to know that he had finally made himself comfortable against the old fabric. I let out a soft sigh, pulling up the covers up to my chin as my heart seemed to clench at his words. He was right though. For as long as I could remember, I was never really one to share my emotions with anyone, no matter how strong I was currently feeling them at the time. I always thought it was better to bottle them up inside in fear that no one would really pay attention to them or that they would simply make fun of me for even feeling such emotions. But after doing so for many years, I have found myself deteriorating slowly on the inside, despite trying to keep myself well put together. I knew now that it wasn't healthy for me to do such things, but every time I would find myself feeling such strong emotions, I would shut myself out from the world and keep my mouth clamped shut. And now was one of these moments.

I had not thought of my mother in quite some time, so hearing Blake bring her up so suddenly brought back emotions I had tried to keep hidden in the back of my mind. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother dearly and was completely heartbroken when I had discovered the news that she was no longer in the physical world with my dad and I. I didn't understand at first, but as time passed on and I found myself looking at the front door, waiting for her to step through them, I had come to the harsh conclusion that she was truly gone. I wanted to do what any other ordinary child would do after the loss of a parent, run into someone's arms, seeking comfort during these hard times; but I always found myself coming up empty. Seeing my dad, crumpled up in his bed sobbing countless nights, silently whispering out her name into the air around him made me realize at a young age that I had to suck it up and become the responsible one in the house. I was the one to pick up the pieces and try to put my dad back together, even at such a young age. It was the reason why I had learned how to fend for myself so early in life and why I had stepped it up in my studies so I could care for my dad when the time came where he was no longer able to care for himself anymore. I knew that was a long time from now, but it was never early to start thinking about the distant future.

I craned my neck as I stared up at the picture lying neatly above the night table to my right. It was the same picture I had back home of my parents and I, making funny faces during the few times we had decided to take a family photo. It was one of the last ones we had taken together, and it had to be my ultimate favorite one

I reached out and grabbed it with shaky hands, bringing the portrait close to my face as I stared at every detail in the picture. My mom had decided for us all to wear white clothing and she had put me (with very much resistance on my part) in a white floral dress that went just below the knees with white sandals and a white bow that tied up my dark, wavy hair. Even my dad had protested in wearing the most ridiculous white shirt a man would ever wear in public, but he had obliged after some persisting from my mom's part.

All in all, I was glad she had practically forced my dad and I to wear those outfits. We really did look like a happy family and despite me begging for my mom to burn the dress after we had taken those photos, I didn't regret wearing it just for her.

Pulling it close to my chest, I wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape before removing the covers from over me. I took in a deep breath before swinging my legs over the edge and making my way back to the bedroom door. I stopped abruptly behind it, contemplating whether I should be doing this or not. I had no idea how he would react to this newfound information about my life, especially since I've never told the story about my mother to anyone before. Many people had been curious enough to question what had happened to her after seeing that my dad was the only one who would be with me most of the time, but I never bothered to answer them in fear of their reactions. I didn't want their sympathy, that was for sure. But then again, I had absolutely no idea what I truly wanted when it came to the loss of my own mother

With a moment of small hesitation, I reached for the doorknob and opened the door quietly, my eyes adjusting themselves to the darkness that now consumed the living room. After a moment of standing there idly, I looked towards the couch and allowed my eyes to trace along the length of his body as he laid there in silence. Not even the sound of his breathing was heard from where I now currently stood. Taking a deep breath, I allowed my feet to guide me around the furniture until I was standing in front of him. He made no move to acknowledge my presence, so I simply crouched down towards the floor before allowing myself to sit on top of the wooden floorboards. They creaked quietly underneath my weight as I pressed my back against the couch behind me. I could feel the warmth of his body emanating strongly in my direction and I desperately tried to ignore the small sparks that were set off due to the close proximity of our bodies. I crossed my legs beneath me and placed the picture firmly in between my hands, my eyes scanning along the length of the intricate frame as my fingertips grazed the side of it

Before I could convince myself to not speak a word and go back into the room, I found myself saying,

"I was only ten years old when she passed away"

I wasn't exactly sure if he had heard me or not, and I was just about to stand up in defeat to retreat back into the comfort of my bed before I felt him shift his position on the couch. I could feel his dark eyes staring at me, waiting patiently for me to continue as I sat there, staring down at the joyous picture that was simply a memory to me now

"I've never truly told anyone this, really, so bear with me," I warned, waiting for him to reply but he simply sat there without uttering a single word. I took that as a sign to continue, and so I did.

"My mom was really a happy person. She was always so optimistic and caring to others, despite how rude some of them could really be. She used to always have this smile on her face every morning and never truly complained whenever I needed help doing a science project or she had to clean up some mess my dad would accidentally make. She truly was the kindest woman I had ever met"

A moment of silence passed before his voice pierced through the darkness. "How did she look like?"

I looked down at the picture before twisting my upper body and bringing the picture up to his level for him to take. I knew in this kind of darkness that it was difficult to distinguish the contents of this picture, but knowing that he had these abnormal werewolf senses, I didn't bother getting up to turn on the light switch or anything.

I, personally, didn't have any sort of problem seeing it well. I have looked at it so many times in the past during my times of need that it was practically implanted in my memory. I could easily throw it away and describe it to someone, detail by detail, years later and not miss a single thing. But I would never do such a thing. This picture was truly my most prized possession when it came to my mom.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he analyzed the picture.

"It's a nice family photo," he complimented, lowering the picture back for me to take. I was careful not to allow our fingers to graze one another. I didn't need that type of distraction at the moment.