Thank you to @21Kays for the amazing cover she made me ^! 

And, after reading this chapter, comment down below if you think Chloe should be with Roarke or if she is developing a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome and her ass needs to escape!

                                                          ~ Lissa

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CHAPTER TEN - DEFENDER

"So far, I'm not seeing any signs of an infection," Dr. Burnett said, examining my stitches. It was a few days after the attack and I was seated on Roarke's bed, slouched forward. Dr. Burnett reached into her bag and produced some pills, dropping them in the palm of my hand. "Swallow these."

I hesitantly swallowed them.

She peered at me though her spectacles. "I heard you haven't been very talkative since the attack." Her attention shifted to the dark circles underneath my eyes and the dryness of my lips. "How are you feeling, Chloe?"

"I feel fine," I replied, flatly. "My wounds hurt a little - "

"Emotionally."

I kept a calm facade. "I'm fine."

She gave me a disbelieving look, but sighed. "Okay, I will let Roarke know." Of course she would. There was no confidentiality or privacy in this household. She packed up her things, glancing at me through her spectacles. "What happened at the celebration - I have no words. I'm sorry that bad things keep happening to you."

Dr. Burnett offered a small grin, then walked out of the bedroom. She sounded sincere and despite my dislike for doctors, I liked her.

Shortly after she left, Roarke entered the bedroom, strolling towards me. I stayed seated at the end of the bed until he reached me, his face unreadable. He lifted his hand and moved the collar of my shirt, peering at the stitches on my shoulder. A low grunt escaped his lips, right before he grabbed my wrist and peered at the stitches on my forearm.

"Let me see the bruises," Roarke demanded, his eyes grim. I gestured towards my bruised knees and showed him my palms. "No, I was told that you have bruises on your ribs."

"You can hardly see them - "

"Show me."

I didn't move, just stubbornly kept his gaze. He released a groan of frustration, before he was suddenly grabbing my thighs and throwing me back onto the mattress. Roarke crawled on top of me, trapping me, and fumbled with the hem of my shirt. I grabbed his wrists, trying to jerk him away, but he ignored me completely.

"Get off me," I grumbled, shifting beneath him. "It's none of your business. I'm fine."

"You are my business," he remarked, swiftly. As soon as his dark eyes landed on the purple bruises, they softened. I assumed that the bruises were from a fall in the forest; I had landed on a branch. They thankfully didn't hurt much. He lightly touched my rib-cage, murmuring, "Why didn't I notice them?"

"Because, they're hardly anything," I said, feeling tough. "It's not like I broke a rib."

His jaw tightened. "It's not okay."

"I'm not saying it's okay," I replied, peering up at him. "I'm saying - it could've been worse. Don't freak out over this. Be thankful that things aren't worse."

"I am thankful," he said, his words low and rough. My stomach flopped when he dropped his head and dragged his nose across my collarbone, tickling my neck. It was such a light touch, so gentle, and he sighed against my ear. "So thankful."

I took a deep breath. "I-I think you should get off me."

"I haven't kissed you in three days," Roarke said, his lips brushing my cheek. "A male should never have to go that long without the touch of his female."

"But, what if his female doesn't want it?"

He froze above me. "Are you saying you don't want my touch?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

"Then, why aren't you pushing me away?" he asked, quietly. "And, why is your heart racing? Why is your breathing uneven?" I gulped loudly as he dragged a single finger across my bottom lip, then down to my chest, right over my heart. "You forget that I can hear these things."

"I-I could just be uncomfortable."

"I would believe that," Roarke said, looking at my lips. "If I didn't smell your desire."

My eyes widened slightly as my cheeks flushed. I was experiencing lust, not love, and I hated myself for feeling an attraction towards him. I shouldn't have wanted him, but a deep part of me did. Call it lust, call it Stockholm Syndrome, whatever it was, I knew that I didn't entirely hate him.

So, when his lips came crashing down on mine, I didn't complain. He nestled himself between my hips, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I was pumped with fear and anger and so many emotions - I used them against him as I assaulted his lips back.

Roarke started slowly rocking into me, his mouth moving to my neck. His hands roamed my body while mine remained buried in his soft hair. He suddenly grabbed my ass and hauled me closer to him, a low growl emitting from his throat. The growl didn't scare me; in fact, it was a little bit hot.

I could feel him sucking on my neck. He was leaving behind his mark.

When he lifted his head, he bared his teeth at me. It wasn't a smile. He looked like he wanted to eat me and the scariest part was, was he knew he could. I was in a position where he could do whatever he wanted to me.

He kissed my jaw, gently. "Tell me your favorite color."

I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't. I shifted beneath him, answering, "Blue."

"Okay," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my lips. He pulled back, his gaze burning into my face, conflicted. I wasn't sure what was running through his head. There was a tick in his jaw as he slowly, almost reluctantly, crawled off me. He grabbed my wrists, pulling me with him, and setting me on my feet.

I was confused. "What?"

"Someone is here," Roarke muttered, but I had a feeling that wasn't the whole truth. "I need you to come with me."

He guided me downstairs where Maurice was speaking with Blake and Rudy at the front door. Blake appeared friendly as always, but Rudy was expressionless. I watched as Roarke moved forward and shook hands with both of them in greeting.

Maurice waved her hand. "Well, come in! I just made cinnamon rolls if you're hungry - "

"Maybe later," Roarke interrupted, then pulled me towards him. Maurice nodded once and disappeared into the kitchen, the smell of caramel filling the house. Roarke gestured towards Rudy who hadn't yet spoken a word. "You've met Rudy. He will be with you whenever I'm not."

My eyebrows furrowed together. "Like, a babysitter?"

"Not exactly," Roarke responded, flashing me a grin. "I want to know that you're safe at all times. Rudy is one of my best. He will protect you with his life."

Rudy performed a small bow.

Blake scratched his chin. "Wow, I thought you were kidding about assigning Rudy as her Defender."

"Defender?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes," Roarke said, placing his hand on my lower back. "It means that Rudy will be guarding you with his life, for as long as I say. He will lay down his life for yours. He will put you first. His protection, his loyalty, is now with you." My eyes widened as I looked at Rudy in disbelief and worry. That was serious.

"Don't look so scared," Blake spoke, amused. "Being our Alpha's female's Defender is an honor. I'm hurt that I wasn't considered for the role."

"Do I really need a Defender?"

"You were targeted at the celebration," Roarke said, quietly. "My enemies know that I have chosen a female. They will try to take you away from me." His jaw tightened as he squared his shoulders. "While I'm killing every last one of them, Rudy will be keeping you safe."

My mouth parted. "Oh."

Blake clapped his hands together. "Well, let's get this over with - my female has been nagging me to get home."

"How is Josephine?" I asked, curiously.

"Oh, she's doing fine," he answered, politely. "She's still shaken up from the attack, but her and Scarlett have kinda been leaning on each other, you know?" I witnessed Rudy tense at the mention of Scarlett's name. More curiosity flushed through me as Blake followed Roarke to his office without another word.

My stomach growled and I turned around, heading into the kitchen where the delicious smell of caramel and cinnamon overwhelmed my nose. Maurice smiled, then grabbed me a plate, scooping some rolls from the pan. Rudy took a seat at the kitchen, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together, innocuous.

I bit into a cinnamon roll.

"How do they taste?" Maurice asked, wiping her hands. "I think I used a little too much flour. . ."

"They taste great," I told her, licking my lips. "Your cooking will surely make me gain weight."

"Oh, you need a little more on your bones," she replied, lightly pinching my arm. "And, I don't normally cook this much. Alpha Roarke doesn't like sugar. I'm glad that I have someone I can make all these delicious recipes for now."

I watched as she poured coffee into a cup, then scooped a single cinnamon roll onto a plate.

Maurice waltzed around the counter to the kitchen table, placing them in front of Rudy. She flashed him a calm grin, saying, "I know you like your coffee, Rudy."

Rudy grunted in gratitude and took a sip of his black coffee.

When Maurice returned to my side, I looked at her, dropping my voice. "He doesn't talk much, does he? I haven't heard him say one word."

"Rudy speaks with his claws," she whispered, glancing at him. "He's a deadly warrior, hun. You don't use words to kill somebody." My attention shifted to Rudy who was casually sipping his coffee. He was so calm, so collected. "Honestly, I would be worried if he did start talking."

I bit my bottom lip. "Have you ever heard him talk?"

"A few times," Maurice answered, quietly. "He only talks to a selected few." She wiped a cloth across the counter, then leaned in close to me. "He might talk to you. Go over there."

"Is that really a good idea?"

She raised an eyebrow. "The worst that will happen is he will ignore you. Unless that will hurt your feelings, it's not a bad idea to talk with the man who is your Defender now. He will practically be your shadow from here on out, hun."

Nervously, I picked up my plate of cinnamon rolls and walked over to the kitchen table. I plopped down in the seat across from him and he glanced at me over his cup of coffee. Maurice lingered behind the counter, watching in amusement.

I cleared my throat. "We haven't properly met - I'm Chloe."

Rudy took another sip of his coffee.

I bit into my cinnamon roll, looking at his roll on his plate. He hadn't touched it yet. "These are really good - you should try them."

I didn't receive a response. My eyes flickered over to Maurice and she shrugged her petite shoulders. She didn't seem surprised by Rudy's silence. Then, an idea came to me - I wasn't sure where my bravery came from, probably from my curiosity that would eventually kill me.

Casually, I looked at Maurice. "Do you think Roarke would care if I invited Josephine and Scarlett over one of these nights?"

Rudy stiffened at Scarlett's name.

Maurice smiled. "I'm sure if you asked nicely, hun."

"Okay, good," I responded, not meeting his burning gaze. "We need to have some major girls talk. I want to talk about Roarke, Josephine will want to talk about Blake, and I'm sure Scarlett will want to talk about her man."

Rudy scowled. "What man?"

His voice was deep, hoarse, just like I had expected. He even sounded deadly. I tried to remain calm as I replied, "Not sure, I will have to ask her if she's seeing anybody."

His scowl deepened.

Maurice winked at me.

-

That night, I was curled up next to Roarke in bed, wide awake.

I hesitated. "Can you tell me about the Monclaw Pack?" There was an irritated groan from him and I lifted my head, peering at him through the darkness. "You keep ignoring my questions. I deserve to know. You said that they targeted me. I was almost killed for being your female. I want to know why they hate you."

He didn't meet my gaze. "You won't like the truth."

"That's not the first time you've said that," I murmured, resting my chin on his chest. "Why does the Monclaw Pack hate you?"

He sighed.

"The Alpha," Roarke started, almost reluctantly. "Julius Monclaw. We've never liked each other. He hates me more now than ever."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because, I killed his female," he answered, calm. My heart skipped a beat and when I moved to crawl away from him, Roarke tightened his hold around my waist. He wasn't letting me go. I swallowed the lump in my throat, watching his expression. He just continued to stare up at the ceiling, his eyebrows pinched together.

"W-Why did you do that?" I stuttered, quietly.

"I was ordered to by my father," Roarke told me, his voice low. "Killing her was the last stepping stone for me to take over as Alpha of the Farkas Pack. Her death was the final act that gave me my rightful title."

I had so many questions. "But, why would your father care about his female?"

"She was my sister," he said, surprising me. As if the story couldn't get any darker, he continued. "Her name was Luna. She wanted power in this pack. She didn't agree with the roles of women here - so she escaped by choosing a male from a different pack. Julius Monclaw. My sister settled down with an Alpha of all males."

"Of course, this didn't please our father or me," Roarke trailed on, not looking at me. "She found herself in a deep feud with us. It became so bad that she ceased all connections to our pack and my father cut the alliance with the Monclaw Pack altogether."

"Luna became deranged and impulsive," he said, shaking his head. "Word traveled around that she was planning on having me, the next Alpha, assassinated to create chaos. My father ordered me to kill her. No negotiation. No second chances. So, I went and I killed my sister." I was holding my breath the entire time. "Then, I killed my father when I returned."

I gulped loudly. "And, what about your mother?"

"My mother didn't survive my birth," Roarke told me, finally meeting my gaze. He must have seen my appalled reaction. "My past is dark. This should come as no surprise."

"I-I know," I said, inhaling sharply. "I just - I realized that I don't really know you, either."

There was curiosity in his eyes. 

"I'm going to tell you something that nobody else knows," he muttered, watching me. A moment of silence drifted between us as he hesitated. "Having my sister's blood on my hands still hurts me to this day. Her death is my biggest regret."

I bit my bottom lip. "You feel guilty."

"Yes."

Slowly nodding my head, I relaxed back into the mattress, my mind swarming with questions and thoughts. I felt his fingers trailing through my hair, right before he buried his nose in my hair and inhaled my scent. "I won't lose you too."

And, as he said that, Julius Monclaw was off somewhere, gathering his pack together to plan another attack.