The Wolf You Feed
Chapter 77
Rowan ascended the steps as slowly as she dared. Her legs were clean shaven and her skin felt weird and slippery when they rubbed against each other. Since Rowan arrived at the Sanctuary, she had been wearing oversized clothes to conceal her growing stomach. It had been easy up to this point since the scrubs that had been provided for her to wear when she worked in the medical bay were baggy and shapeless to begin with. But the dress she had on now was white and lacy and didn't leave much to the imagination. The swollen bump of her stomach was clearly visible. She placed her hand over it protectively as she climbed up the last few steps.
Her morning had started out like any other day in hell. Rowan woke to the sound of her alarm clock beeping in her windowless room. She made herself tea and shuffled outside in her slippers to let Tank relieve himself. Rowan's usual guards were David or Angry Hawk. But today Rowan found a woman outside her door. She was blonde and Rowan thought she was very pretty despite the woman's obvious attempt to dress as manly and nondescript as possible. The woman had a tattoo on her neck that was made up of many parallel lines. Rowan wondered if the markings had some spiritual significance or if the symbol was only for aesthetics. She almost asked the woman about it but then changed her mind and stayed quiet instead.
Rowan had noticed the woman before. Tank liked her. He rubbed his body against the woman's legs a few times while they were walking together to the outside door, encouraging the woman to scratch his large black head. Rowan sipped her tea while Tank ran up and down the fence barking at the walkers. This had become a highly favored activity of his. Rowan let him go on a little longer than usual. Mostly because the blonde woman with her seemed to be enjoying his antics. But Rowan eventually called him back and the little group headed back inside towards Rowan's apartment. Rowan intended to throw on her baggy scrubs and head down to the medical bay. Like she had done every day since the second day she arrived in this place. But once she got back to her door, her day took a strange turn.
A group of very over-groomed women in black dresses were waiting for Rowan outside her door. They had apparently been sent there to help her get ready. Rowan was confused and didn't understand what it was that she needed to prepare for. But the women had clearly been sent to collect her. And the blonde woman guard didn't seem surprised by this turn of events. On the contrary it seemed she was expecting to find the women waiting for them. So Rowan shrugged and followed the girls through the winding maze of corridors that made up the interior of the Sanctuary.
They eventually arrived in a room that seemed to be set up for no other purpose than for these women to groom themselves. There were tables full of lotions and potions. Lots of mirrors. There were tools Rowan recognized as irons that could be used on the hair. Jessie had used them on hers once when she had been a bridesmaid in Eric and Aaron's wedding. On the other side of the room was a shower area and a large bathtub that was filled with fragrant steaming water.
The woman with the red hair seemed to be in charge of the others. Unlike most inhabitants of the sanctuary, she had actually introduced herself to Rowan. Her name was Frankie. There was a blonde woman named Amber that didn't talk at all. But Frankie and her dark haired companion provided an endless supply of chatter. More than enough to make up for what the third girl didn't say.
Rowan was unsure about what Frankie and the other girls were doing to her body. And also why this excessive grooming was necessary. But it was clear these women had been given very specific instructions. And since they weren't hurting her, except for the plucking of a few eyebrow hairs, Rowan just decided to relax and allow them to do whatever they felt was necessary. Soaking in the big tub and taking as much time as she wanted to wash her hair had actually felt sort of amazing.
It wasn't until two of the women were curling her hair that Rowan caught on to what they were saying. They had been chatting endlessly about nothing for so long Rowan had half tuned them out. But she perked up when Negan's name was mentioned.
"Your hair is so long and thick. The curls are turning out beautiful. Negan is going to love this!," Frankie exclaimed. Rowan felt a cold shiver work up her spine. She gripped the neckline of her robe and pulled it tightly closed.
"That's what you're getting me ready for?," Rowan asked. Her voice was suddenly shaky and full of fear. Frankie's body tensed up, a flicker of sympathy and sadness washing over her face. But she was quick to plaster her fake smile back on.
"Of course!," she announced before pointing to a bouquet on a nearby table. "Who do you think sent you those flowers?" Rowan glanced at the flowers and then back at Frankie.
"He invited you to dinner," Tanya added. Her voice was high pitched with fake excitement.
Rowan simply nodded and pretended she didn't notice the looks of commiseration the two women were giving each other over her head as they continued their work on her hair. Rowan knew better than to say anything negative about Negan to anyone. She had seen a man get beaten almost to death a few days before for just uttering a few complaints while he was in the food line. These women were acting like her friends. But they were not. They were strangers. Saviors. More enemies that she had to live with until she could escape this place. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like her escape was going to come soon enough to save her from Negan's dinner plans.
At least Tank was with her. Rowan glanced at the familiar animal as she climbed the last step. The big dog had shown none of her apprehension about her dinner plans. He had rushed up the stairs and sat at the top wagging his tail until Rowan caught up to him. Rowan tugged at her dress. The garment was beautiful but not something she would have picked out for herself. It was long and white with vertical panels of sheer lace on the sides. The top was fitted with thin straps and a low open back. The sides of the bodice were also open, the material held together with white strings that crossed each other and tied in a small bow on each side. The front was the part of the dress she was tugging at. The neckline was V shaped and plunged down to reveal more of her cleavage than she was comfortable with. Pregnancy had made her breasts swell. But the worst part of the dress was the waistline. It fell just below Rowan's breasts and hugged the thinnest part of her, making the swell of her pregnant stomach look rounder and more pronounced.
Rowan turned back and glanced at her lady guard. The woman gave her an encouraging smile. But Rowan hesitated at the top of the steps for another moment. This felt like a trick. It felt like a trap. She racked her brain, thinking of all the things she could possibly be in trouble for. There were a lot of possibilities. She had barged into Negan's personal living area. No one was supposed to go in there. Then her father and Carol had gone missing. Rowan had nothing to do with their escape but she was smart enough to realize that her innocence didn't mean she wouldn't be blamed. She had also treated the face of that young man after Negan had burned him as punishment. Dr Carson warned her she would be in trouble if she helped the boy. But she had done it anyway.
It wasn't until she pushed the door open that Rowan realized how long she had been downstairs with the girls. The angle of the sun indicated that it was much later in the afternoon than she thought it was. The total lack of windows was one of the worst things about this place.
Rowan felt the crunch of gravel under her sandals. She was on the roof. She quickly lifted the skirt of her dress to keep it from snagging on the small rocks and took a few more tentative steps away from the door. The weather was still warm but she could smell autumn in the air. Fall wasn't here yet but it was coming. While it was still clear and light out, Rowan could see the sky just beginning to develop color at the horizon line off to the west.
Rowan wasn't sure if the rooftop was used often as a place for private dinner dates, or if this had all been set up just for her. Either way it was hard not to be impressed with the scene in front of her. There were tall metal candle sconces everywhere. Some held lit candles and others held small bouquets of fresh flowers. A giant daybed was off to the right, facing the west where the sun would set. It was covered in pillows and had a small canopy attached to the back that could be raised to protect a person from the sun if the bed was being used during the day.
Near the daybed there was a raised fire pit with a fire already crackling inside it. There were a few more comfy looking lounges and camping chairs scattered about in the same area. Straight ahead of her there was a large gazebo. The structure had netting curtains attached but they were currently pulled back and tied out of the way. A table with two chairs was centered in the middle of the gazebo. There were more flowers and candles on the table.
He was also there. Negan. The man was not dressed in his usual jacket and red scarf. Rowan was relieved to see that he was not holding the barbed wire bat he usually kept on his person at all times. But she wasn't sure what to think about the rest of his attire. The only time Rowan had seen people dress up like that was for a wedding. He had on black dress pants and a black jacket with a white dress shirt underneath it. He didn't have a tie on. Instead the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a sliver of his toned chest.
As soon as he spotted her, Negan turned and began heading quickly in her direction. Rowan felt her stomach bottom out. For once she was glad to have an empty stomach. Because she had to take a deep breath to keep from vomiting down the front of her white lace dress. Rowan didn't realize she was backing up until she bumped into her guard. The woman put her hands on Rowan to steady her and keep the woman from backing straight into the door.
"Thank you Laura," Negan said as he held his hand out for Rowan to take, "I'll take it from here."
Rowan hesitated. She didn't want to take his hand. Negan not only scared her, his aura was repulsive. Wendigo. He wanted more land that a man could plant. More food than a man could eat. And more liquor than a man could drink. He was greedy and selfish and from what she had seen, didn't even take very good care of his own people. Rowan wanted to turn and run back down the stairs. But she was deathly afraid of what the consequences of refusing Negan might be. So she lifted her slim freckled hand and placed it in Negan's much larger one. His skin was warmer than she expected. He began leading her towards the table. The sound of the rooftop door shutting behind Laura caught Rowan's attention. She stopped, her head snapping back in the direction she wanted to go. Negan didn't yank her arm like she expected. He waited for her resistance to dissipate before he led Rowan the rest of the way to the table.
Negan released her hand. Rowan fought the urge to wipe it against her dress and rid herself of the feeling of his touch. Instead of sitting down, he pulled out a chair and stood behind it. When Rowan stood there staring at him instead of sitting in the chair he had pulled out for her, Negan motioned for her to sit. Rowan sat, not leaning against the back of the chair until he had removed his hands.
Negan quietly sighed. This was going to be harder than he initially thought. He hadn't realized how truly frightened this woman was of him. She was wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. Maybe such an elaborate seduction scene had been a bad idea. It had worked on every other woman he had brought up to this roof. But the other women had at least understood what he was doing when he brought them here. This one didn't even seem to understand that when he had pulled a chair out, it was for her to sit in. Negan shrugged. It was too late to turn back now. He just had to keep going and see how this would play out.
"Let's make sure the beast gets his food first," Negan offered. "One time of being bitten was enough for me." He glanced at the woman seated at his table. She did not laugh at his joke. She didn't even crack a smile.
Negan soldiered on despite Rowan's lack of response. He got out the giant bowl of dog food he had stashed and carried it far away from the dinner table. At least the dog seemed impressed with his efforts. The giant black beast trotted along next to him, sniffing at the air near the bowl of food. Negan put the dish down on the rooftop away from the fire pit area. He had even had his men drag a big dog bed up here. In the hopes that the large animal would lay the fuck down on it and not disrupt the date he had planned.
"You look beautiful," Negan said. And he wasn't lying. He had been attracted to this girl even when she was covered in dirt and sweat and swinging a stick at him. All clean and dolled up she looked like a grecian goddess come to life. Insead of the thanks Negan had expected to receive for his gracious compliment, the woman said nothing. She narrowed her eyes at him and tightly gripped the butter knife that had been placed on the table next to her fork. Negan fought hard to keep his laughter at bay. She was a spicy little thing. Her attitude would only make it that much sweeter when she finally submitted to him.
"Why am I here?," Rowan asked. She decided there was no point in dancing around her question. Negan pretending to be nice by feeding her dog wasn't fooling her in the slightest. His aura was swelling with desire.
"I just wanted to thank you..," Negan explained. When Rowan didn't respond he added, "...for saving my life."
Rowan did not relax her grip on the dull knife in her hand. She sat silently, staring at him like she didn't believe a single word that was coming out of his mouth. Negan leaned back in his chair, trying to think of something to say that would relax this woman. She had a way of staring at him that made him feel like she would know if he was lying. So he decided the best way to satisfy her was with the truth. Or at least some form of truth.
"Look, I really do want to thank you for what you did for me. This isn't a trick. You are not in trouble for anything. I find you interesting. I want to have dinner with you. And I didn't want to have dinner with someone that was stinky and covered in other people's funk from working in the medical bay," he said. "I thought you would enjoy having the girls dress you up."
Negan stared at the woman, waiting to see what her response would be. She thought over his words and finally nodded. Negan smiled. A nod was better than nothing. He ticked his head at her hand. The one that was holding the butter knife with a white knuckle grip.
"Can we eat now or are you going to try and cut me with that dull ass knife?," Negan asked.
Rowan looked down at her hand. She let go of the knife, dropping it back down onto the white tablecloth and placing her hands in her lap. She didn't even realize she had been gripping the item. If she had actually intended to stab Negan, she would have used her fork and aimed for his eyes. She wasn't stupid.
"We can eat now," Rowan agreed. Negan picked up a small walkie and spoke into it, telling whoever was on the other end that they were ready to eat. A small breeze blew in, ruffling the tablecloth slightly. Rowan rubbed at her bare arms. Gooseflesh had formed on the backs of them. She wasn't sure if it was from the breeze or her anxiety. Negan stood up and removed his dress jacket, holding the item out for her to take.
"You look cold," he offered.
Rowan nodded and took the jacket, wrapping it around her back and stuffing her arms through the sleeves. The heat from Negan's body still lingered in the fabric, warming her instantly. The jacket smelled of pure man. Musky and earthy with a hint of spice. The smell made Rowan miss her husband so badly it was almost physically painful. She tried not to think of Daryl too much. For fear that she would begin weeping and not be able to stop. But in that moment she couldn't hold back her loneliness. Her body felt empty. She longed to be wrapped up in his arms. Rowan wrapped the jacket around herself instead and pushed up the sleeves. Now that she didn't feel so exposed, she was able to relax slightly.
Dinner was brought out under covered domes that were removed once the plates were set in front of them. Rowan had nothing in her belly but the hot tea from that morning and a few crackers she had nibbled while the girls got her ready. Her stomach grumbled at the smell of the hot meal in front of her. It was not only a steak, it was a real steak. Meat that came from a cow. There were even mashed potatoes and asparagus. The entire plate smelled of real butter and spices and charcoal and heaven. Near the middle of the table someone set a plate down with a large piece of chocolate cake on it.
Rowan took one more suspicious glance at the man across the table from her. She wiped at the corner of her mouth and quickly decided that if Negan had brought her up to the roof to rape and kill her she might as well die with a full stomach.
Negan's eyes widened slightly as he watched the woman at his table. She certainly wasn't behaving like a dainty princess like the other women he usually dined with. Rowan was literally inhaling her food, shoveling it into her mouth as fast as humanly possible with no regard for his opinion of her table manners. Negan couldn't help his laughter this time, though it was tinged with just the tiniest bit of guilt at how hungry she clearly was. He resolved that quickly enough by telling himself that once this woman was his, he would take better care of her. He would make sure she got all that she wanted to eat at every meal.
Rowan made it about halfway through her plate and a few large bites of cake before she had to stop and come up for air. Her stomach already felt overly full from how much she had stuffed into it so fast. Negan filled her fancy glass with something bubbly, assuring her that it was non alcoholic. Rowan took a sip. The drink was tart and the bubbles tickled her nose.
"Can I keep the rest of this for later," Rowan asked, gesturing to her plate.
"Kitten, you can have whatever you want for later," Negan informed her. Rowan pretended she didn't catch the look on his face or his tone that suggested he wasn't just talking about the food.
"Well Kitten, where are you from," Negan asked.
"Alexandria," Rowan answered, her tone implying that he ought to already know the answer to his inquiry. Negan laughed.
"I mean where are you actually from?," he explained, "...before the turn." Rowan nodded her understanding, feeling a little silly for her answer.
"I'm from Louisa," she explained. Negan nodded. The area where Louisa used to be wasn't too far. He was from Virginia himself and was familiar with the area.
"Isn't Louisa full of weird cult people?," he teased, "You know any of those freaks Kitten?"
"I am those freaks," Rowan bluntly informed him, "I was born in Twin Oaks. Third generation freak."
Instead of being embarrassed by his obviously rude comment about her home, Negan just laughed. Rowan shook her head and held back a smile. The man really had absolutely no shame. Rowan observed him in the quiet unobtrusive way she had. For the first time she wondered what Negan had been like before the turn. Perhaps he had not always been the monster he had become. The outbreak had turned her father mad. But he had eventually found his way back. She wondered if Negan could do the same. Or perhaps he was already too far gone.
Negan rose from his seat and walked over to fiddle with a small cd player he had set up. Soft slow music began to rise up from out of the speakers. He approached Rowan slowly and held his hand out to her. She hesitated before placing her slim hand in his larger one. He ran the pad of his thumb over her tattoos, expecting to feel a difference in the texture of her skin where the markings were. Her hand was warm, the skin soft except for the callouses on her palm. Negan kept a firm hold on her hand, wrapping his other arm around her waist to pull her close to him.
Rowan's body was stiff in his arms, despite the gentle way she was being held. She wasn't a short woman by any means. But Negan towered over her. If he desired he could easily rest his chin on the top of her head. Up close, he smelled even better than his jacket. His body was warm and she was so desperately lonely. Rowan was swirling with conflicting emotions. The hormones from her pregnancy were making it all worse. She hated the man who was holding her so close, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music. And she was disgusted with herself for enjoying even a moment of Negan's company. Rowan held her body stiff for another moment before she finally collapsed into his chest. Her hand fisted into the back of his shirt. Her face was wet with tears before she realized she was weeping.
"Why…," Rowan sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Negan rubbed his hands over her, reaching up under the oversized jacket to rub his palms across the soft bare skin of her back. One hand pulled back, tucking under her chin and tilting Rowan's face up so that he could look at her. She was exquisite in her misery. All her walls were finally breaking down.
"Doing what?," he asked. Negan assumed she wanted to know the reason he was keeping her hostage at the Sanctuary. The answer to that ought to be plainly obvious by now. He wanted her. That's why she was here. She was also a valuable resource but he didn't care about that at the moment.
"The flowers. The dress. The dinner. The music. All this! You are in charge here and you can force yourself onto me at any time. No one would even try to stop you. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!"
Rowan sobbed through her words and beat her small fists against the hard planes of his chest. It was bad enough this man clearly meant to have sex with her. But why did he have to make her feel like this? Why was he being so nice? She wished he would just bend her over the table and get it over with so she could go back to her room and cry in private.
"I don't want to force you," Negan told her, "I want you to give yourself to me."
"NEVER," Rowan hissed. With that she shoved Negan hard and stepped back and away from the man. "Don't you have enough wives!," she added, "what do you want with me?"
Negan stepped forward and grabbed her by the arm. He didn't squeeze but simply held Rowan in place to keep her from retreating further. Negan's limited experiences dealing with this woman had taught him that she ran like a damn rat and was hard to catch if she really got moving. He wasn't in the mood for a game of chase.
"You have something I want," Negan told her, lifting his hand and placing it flat on the gorgeous growing swell of her stomach. She was amazingly sexy. Her body reminded him of a ripe peach. Ready to be picked.
The moment Negan saw the look of absolute terror that filled her eyes, he knew he had said the wrong thing. Rowan hugged her stomach with her arms protectively. She glanced toward the edge of the roof and for a moment thought about simply leaping off the edge and ending all this. She would die before she let this man take her child from her. That would be a fate much worse than death.
"No, no, no, not like that," Negan soothed, "I would never take your baby away from you."
Negan lifted his other hand to scrub at his face. He had always been smooth with the ladies. He didn't understand how he was managing to screw up with this one so monumentally. He was going to have to tell Rowan the truth. The actual truth. That was the only way to explain what he had said about her baby. He took a deep breath and began talking.
Negan told Rowan that he had been married before. A real marriage. Not like the ones he had now. His wife was named Lucille. Lucille wanted kids. Badly. They tried for years to conceive with no luck. Finally she went to the doctor to see what was wrong. With her. Because he was a douche that would never consider that anything was wrong with him. He left that part out. After all, he was trying to get laid. The doctor found nothing wrong with Lucille. She was fertile as they came. Negan hadn't wanted to believe that. His pride was wounded. He had started sleeping with her best friend, secretly hoping the friend would get pregnant and he could rub it in Lucille's face. In the meantime, she had gone to another doctor to get a second opinion. And then they found the cancer. She died.
"I've been sleeping with all these women," Negan admitted, "I figured I'd be able to knock up at least one of them…"
"There's a tea I could make you to help with that," Rowan offered. She hated the man but it was hard not to be moved by his story. It was obvious that he had loved his wife even if he hadn't always treated her the way he should. Rowan could see and feel the change in him when he spoke about Lucille. It was hard not to feel any sympathy for him.
"I don't want tea," Negan told her, his eyes darkening as he pulled her closer, "I want you."
Before Rowan could respond to Negan's declaration, his lips were on hers. His kiss was feather light. Not what she would have expected from the man. It took her by surprise. As did his hand on her ass. He filled his large palm with the round curve of her, pulling her body against his as he squeezed. She gasped against his lips. He used the opportunity to plunge his tongue into her mouth. For a brief moment he felt her body pull in against his, their tongues dancing together inside her mouth. But then her body stiffened and she pushed, her hands that had been sliding up his arms to tangle into his hair now fell flat against his chest pushing him away.
"I won't be another member of your harem," Rowan told him, "I won't be your wife."
Rowan had many objections to why she didn't want to sleep with Negan. So many. But that was the only one she dared to speak out loud. To speak the real reason might bring his wrath down on her family. If Negan knew she was denying him because she was in love with another man, there was no doubt in Rowan's mind that he would have his men hunt Daryl down and kill him. She couldn't risk that.
She was pushing him away. But Negan allowed Rowan only enough space to remove her mouth from his. He kept his arms locked around her, pressing her body to his. Now that she had finally responded to his physical advances, he was not about to let her out of his grasp. Not even for a moment.
"You aren't going to be my wife," he informed her. Keeping one arm around Rowan's back, he lowered the other and pulled in behind her knees. Lifting her up carefully into his arms, Negan held her close as he headed towards the daybed. Earlier, while he was waiting for her to arrive, Negan had stared at the area imagining all the different ways he would have her. Now that time had come. As he laid his precious cargo down on the daybed, Negan repeated his words once more.
"You won't be my wife," he told her again. The weight of his body on top of hers wasn't crushing. He was supporting himself with his arms. It was only enough weight to hold Rowan in place as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
"You will be my queen."
