Chapter Fourteen

                                    

                                          
Maddox had never been controlling, had let me have my own freedom. He was kind, and nothing could change that. And while I certainly didn't love him, my affections began to slowly grow.
                          
He was kind, and he never locked me in a cage.
                          
But I felt as if it would happen soon.
                          
While I didn't seem to think I was in danger, He certainly did. My past in the factories, the rogue attack the bombing and then, of course, being left in the castle with a suspected bomb. It seemed to be too much for him. When he arrived at the castle, I was stuck in his embrace for what felt like years, his head burying itself in my neck. I had just rubbed his back in order to help him feel some comfort. Belial was sent out of the room, and while I had persuaded Maddox not to kill him, I hadn't seen Belial since. However, according to my ladies, he had tried to visit me in my quarters when I was alone, but to no avail. 
                          
I had been moved out of my room, my mountains of gowns, tiara's, crowns and jewellery had been hastily moved and organised into Maddox's closet. I slept alone in his king-sized bed while he slept on a dark blue couch a few metres away. He doesn't sleep. Every time I close my eyes to try and fall asleep, I can see his bright emerald yellow eyes, a slight yellow glow emitting from them
                          
It wasn't scary, but it was unsettling.
                          
I would eventually fall asleep, but it took a while.
                          
He was scared that something was going to happen, he had told me.
                          
"You're not safe, I need you to stay with me so I can make sure that you're safe. I can let you get hurt, and I can't let you keep being put in these dangerous situations. I'm sorry dove, please don't hate me."
                          
I was past the point of hating him, and it wasn't that bad. He escorted me almost everywhere and barely left my side. I sat in his office the majority of the day, listening to him talk on the phone, then talk to me while writing out paperwork and files. A good thing came out of sitting in his violet-coloured roman couch, an affinity for art. I felt bad about rejecting the art supplies he had got me in the beginning.
                          
I drew some things, harsh black lines that would swirl on the paper. And painting, delicate, colourful strokes of watercolour that would paint itself onto the canvas.
                          
That's what I was doing now, letting my led pencil glide itself over the paper, trying to endlessly fill my time. Books, as well, covered the floor around me. They weren't fiction thought, not the types of books that told stories or could make up worlds with only a word. No, they were books for learning.
                          
My education stopped at fourteen, but most wolves ended school at seventeen or eighteen and then most would leave to go to a rural pack for training for a year and a half. And even then, my education compared to the ones that a wolf received... I didn't want to think about it.
                          
Nitoag: A guide to the language of our Goddess
                          
History of Wolves
                          
Wolves: Origin and the secrets to a successful Mating
                          
Essential Maths: Year Ten
                          
Anatomy of a Wolf
                          
Names of books that I had never read before, there were those book and about forty others littered around the floor. Maddox wanted me to read them, just to expand my own knowledge a little bit. I had not yet found the motive to read any of them.
                          
 I sighed and placed down the drawing book and pencil. I leaned on the side of the chair and looked over at Maddox,
                          
He was doing work but looked adorable. His hair was flopping into his face, every few seconds he would run his hands through it in an attempt to push it back long enough for him to do something. His green eyes were furrowed, and his tie had been loosened and was hanging off his shirt. Small ink stains from his pen had leaked onto his fingers and his desk was in complete disarray.