Hideaway Strath Up north’s getting cold soon

One thing she has always been able to do well was read him, and she could plainly see the turmoil in his gaze. She knew he was torn over what he had done, and it tugged at her heart in a fucked up way. But if he regretted it, then why keep her here? But she knew that answer too: he kept her here to protect himself and his pack. There was no easy to fix any of this, and they both knew it. 

The tension in him was obvious, and she knew he was holding himself back, which was surprising. He hadn't held himself back the day they had fought in the weald. He had been a complete monster that day, and now when she was with him, she was always afraid that each feisty remark would be one too many, and she would see that side of him again. She paused and watched him warily for a few moments, eventually beginning to limp along behind him. 

He basically put into words the turmoil she had interpreted from the emotion swimming in his gaze before. None of it made her feel any better, though. All it did was solidify the knowledge that she was stuck here no matter what she did. And part of her was beginning to think maybe she had done something to deserve this. It was her mind trying to justify everything, she knew, but the thoughts tortured her all the same. 

His last words made her pause behind him, confusion clear on her face. Something dark and twisted awoke in her chest then—it liked the power those words gave her. She hadn't felt powerful in a very long time, and it pulled some very confusing feelings to the surface. She swallowed and stared at the back of him. You would do anything for me? she asked with hesitant interest. She waited for him to turn around. She was sinfully intrigued by the idea of having that kind of power over someone so much powerful than she was.