WILDA.Damian does not speak or look at me the whole way. His grip on my arm does not loosen either. It is as if he is afraid I might still run away or something.We walk to the house in silence, my heart beating hard in my chest and my palms dripping with sweat. what will happen to me? What will I say should he ask me what I remembered? What did I remember?Grey fur… yellow eyes… white fur… red eyes… skin turning inside out into fur… the sound of bones crushing… my father… am I going crazy? Why did no one tell me I was there? Why did no one tell me I was the reason for my father’s death?My eyes begin to tear up as my chest grows heavier. No. I will not cry. Not in front of my sadistic brother. I sneak a look at him walking beside me, eyes locked on our house in the distance, there is a troubled expression on his face I have never seen before. It disappears the minute he notices me watching him and I look away immediately.Somehow, I get the feeling he will not continue his interrog
WILDA.I'm running in the woods. It's dark and I can't tell what time of the night it is. The woods are dark as midnight on a moonless night, but somehow, I can still see the shadows of bushes and trees. The night is quiet, the only sound that of my footsteps and behind me… panting…panting… like the sound of a dog… or a wolf.My heart pounds in my chest. ‘Run faster,’ My brain pleads. Despite my efforts, I do not seem to be moving at all. I feel as if I'm running on a treadmill, all effort but no distance.Branches break behind me, fallen twigs snap under the weight of my pursuer's feet, dry fallen leaves crunch under shoes, the sound coming closer and closer, each sound making my heart race faster and my efforts seem pointless.“Wildaaaa...” A voice sings, the familiarity of the sound making the cold air catch in my throat. Goosebumps grow on my bare arms, nothing to do with the cold that makes the air I exhale visible before me.‘I need to get away.’ I think, willing my legs to move
WILDA Before logic can convince me otherwise, I wrap my small towel around my body and step out of the shower, sparing a moment to wipe the steam off the mirror, just to make sure I look as best as I can considering the circumstances. The bags under my eyes are still visible, but the red in my eyes is gone and I am flushed enough that, thanks to the hot shower... or maybe the man in my room, I no longer look like a ghost. I freeze in place the minute I step out of the bathroom and catch a glimpse of him, closing the door behind me to stop the steam from following me into the room. His head lifts at the sound of the door closing and a second later, blue eyes stare back at mine with such intensity my legs almost turn to spaghetti. Cooked spaghetti. I find myself unable to move, breathe or think as his gaze drops to the towel around me, down to my legs,lingering for a second before meeting my eyes and dropping to the towel again. I get the feeling that he wants it off, that he wan
CONAN The guilt I feel as I leave Wilda's room is overwhelming. 'I did what I has to do to get to the truth.' I try to convince myself. 'And it's not like my feelings were fake.' I say to myself. I just used them to manipulate her. Which sounds really bad, now that I think about it. But then again, the whole point of finding the prophesied wolf was to manipulate it to be on our side. It was never expected that the wolf would come with us willingly. I just never expected to feel any amount of guilt over the methods. 'Any other person would do the same.' I tell myself. And I don't even know Wilda enough to feel like I'm betraying her... I already have a degree of her trust, I should be glad over the advantage I have over anyone else who would try to manipulate her. I should be glad. I'm doing exactly what I came here to do. So why is my heart heavy? Why in The Moon goddess's name did I get involved with her? I look around the majestic corridors of the Gray's mansion to distract
WILDA. “Well, this seems to be my lucky day,” the man’s eyes travel down my naked body, a pleased smile on his face. I instinctively drop a hand to cover my crotch, the other across my small breasts. He does not avert his gaze. My body trembles under the scrutiny of his gaze. I find myself looking away, ashamed. “This is private property,” I say, weakly, my cheeks burning red hot and my breath shallow. “Oh, is it?” he asks, his voice teasing. “Well, then you must be Wilda, I’m Victor, and I will be your riding instructor.” He extends a hand, his smile almost covering his whole face. I stare at his hand, tempted to take it. “You're not supposed to be here,” there is a tremble in my voice as I speak. My cheeks burn even hotter, blood pumping in my ears. “You like to run around naked?” he asks, his voice surprisingly serious. I turn away from him, heading for the house. He whistles. “Mama Mia! The view from behind is just as good as from the front.” My knees almost give out a
I suddenly cannot take in a breath. I had failed to notice his beauty earlier, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.Copper blue eyes looking back at mine with a sick sense of humor behind them, long feminine lashes, thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, full lips, and a jaw that looks strong enough to withstand a punch from The Hulk, my breath catches and the water in my mouth goes down the wrong tube.I try to hold the cough that wants to expel the unwanted visitor in my trachea in an attempt not to make a fool of myself, even as I feel the attention of the table turn to me. I break out into a fit of coughs, blood rushing to my face.“Are you okay?” my brother's voice is filled with concern. His eyes ask me ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’He offers me his glass and rubs my back as I regain my composure, his hand a little too rough.“I’m okay, thanks,” I mutter.“Sorry,” I say to the table, my eyes fixed on my plate, and everybody gets back to their conversations in the same second.
CONAN.Orion! I hate hunters!I look down at my palm, where his silver ring had touched my skin, as I leave campus grounds. The delicate skin of my fingers is healing, though slowly.How had I not noticed? But then again, I was too intoxicated by Wilda’s scent.‘A wolf’s power comes from knowing his surroundings. When you enter a room, isolate all the scents in the room, and know everyone. You are dead the minute a hunter finds you before you do.’ Every wolf is taught this when it turns. Today, I learned why.For me, as a future alpha, the carelessness I had shown today was simply unacceptable. If Father found out about this…And all because of a human girl. But how was I supposed to focus on anything with her scent so strong? It was an intoxicating combination of nervousness, arousal, and fear, something that excited my wolf.Wilda was an interesting creature, even my father had admitted as much. It was rare that the breed of two wolves did not result in a cub, and even rarer that t
In the forest deep where shadows fade,A wolf is born of blood by fate.A soul gone rogue a wolf untamed,The fate of wolves, by him decreed.This is the prophecy that brought me into town. A prophecy as old as the first lyncan. Some believe the prophesied wolf to be a savior, others the enemy.Wolves seek it for their packs, hunters seek to kill it. Every few couple of decades, tension rises among wolves and between wolves and hunters, as rumours of the prophesied wolf shake both communities. Recently, the rumors had resurfaced, as hunters and wolves both moved closer to Crimson Hills, believing for some reason, that the prophesied wolf would rise here.Soon after Lucien Gray was killed, wolves in Crimson Hills began to drop like flies. Killed by other wolves from different packs. Recently, the attacks had reduced after Damian’s pack caught one of the perpetrators and annihilated his whole pack. Again, I wonder why my father would dare cross the young alpha.Nonetheless, my father be