Chapter 2

"You just need to dispose of these burnt babies," I utter as I produce the tray from the oven and cough more as the smoke hits differently. With one arm over my nose, I carry the tray to my right, thankful for mittens as I dispose of the cookies in the trash.

Thankful that's out of the way I place the tray under running water and bend over the sink to reach the windows. Unlocking the glass, my fingers halt in their task as I spot two cars pulling up in the barrage. 

"Lord helps me," I blurt as I see Nicholas, his back to me while he stands, legs clad in jeans apart in a powerful stance, wide shoulders stretching the material of a black vest that appears to cling to his muscular form.

I stand frozen as I watch the people in the vehicle alight. A strange feeling creeps in as I observe the bodyguards line up beside the cars.

Despite the distance I can observe the shift in their demeanour, even Nicholas though I am not able to see his face appears different, with a certain air around him.

Slowly my eyes trailed him as he moved, shoulders swishing as he strutted to one of the vehicles. Men dressed in similar attire to the bodyguards pour out of the two cars and they all seem to be waiting.

Nicholas halts in front of the black Jeep Wrangler just as the door shoves open from inside. He bows slightly as an elegant woman clad in a floor-length blue dress steps out.

My breath hitches as I recognize her as Marietta Lazarus, his mother. She appeared more beautiful in person with her midnight hair the same shade as her sun, striking blue eyes, a straight nose, and plump lips.

It's as if she heard the simple action as the next thing I know, my green eyes clash with her blue ones. I'm unable to move as her vision strays from my face to my toes and back. She turns back to her son and the next thing I hear in the silence is. "Why is a human here Nicholas."

"Fuck," I hiss, my palm immediately rushing to the back of my head as it feels like it's about to split if I don't hold it together. Gradually unravelling my lids, I stare up at the ceiling and move into a sitting position, my face contorting as I feel another sharp jolt in my skull. "Shit, my head is about to combust."

"What a colourful way to greet the world," a thick husky voice reaches me and I freeze hence it sounds familiar and worse, close.

Gulping, I unhurriedly swerve my head in the path the sound is coming from, partly because my brain is pounding and partly in fear. I'm unable to think about my surroundings as my eyes trace from the large bed I am positioned to the brown carpet, signature white walls, an intricately carved wooden stool and finally on him.

"God of heaven!" I gasp, my hand immediately flying to my chest as I register the male sitting on the brown plush couch to my left. 

"I thought you were taught never to call the name of your maker in vain," he asserts, raising a thick brow over blue eyes that match his mother's, his masculine figure relaxed as he watches me.

"True, but I'm allowed to call His name when I'm scared," I declare and blink twice to be certain I'm not dreaming.

"Are you scared?" He implores, angling his head to peer at me, lips curling slightly. "You don't look like you are."

"This blank face has been trained for years," I mutter and scoff, hoping I'm doing a good job of hiding the fear that lurks beneath.

"Good to know," he bobs his head and I frown in confusion. "Because you are going to need it."

"Umm," I clear my throat, my green eyes finally taking note of my environment. "Where am I?"

"You are here, on my bed, in my room, and in my house," he explains, his hands moving for emphasis.

"Thank the heavens," I exhale and slump on the headboard only to sit up again as a thought invades my mind. Hastily my vision runs down my form to see I'm fully dressed. "I got scared there for a minute."

"You thought I bedded you last night?" He implores a smug smile on his lips.

"You seem to be enjoying this," I convey, a pout forming.

"I admit, it was hard not to while I changed you," he murmurs huskily, blue eyes running from my face, down to my chest, my legs, and finally my face again, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. "I knew you were beautiful but," he pauses, his stare going intense, "your body is a work of art."

My orbs immediately dart to my chest and legs, my lids widening as what I didn't notice stares back at me.  As if I can protect myself, my arms instantly go to hug my form as I observe I am clad in only a white t-shirt.

"Shit! When did this happen?" I ask, avoiding eye contact, my cheeks crimson as I imagine him changing me.

"Last night," he states and I'm left perplexed.

"Oh last-" I start but halt. "Wait last night?"

He simply bobs his head in response.

"How did you-- why did you-- hold up how did I let you change me?" I stutter, numerous questions dashing through my mind. "What was I doing?"

"You were asleep," he answers in a shrug.

"No shit Sherlock," I mutter under my breath, exasperation clear on my features. "What I mean is, how did I fall asleep?"

He simply bores his eyes into mine, no response leaving his lips. Inhaling a deep breath to keep myself from cursing I clamp my lids and count to five before unravelling them to match his stare with mine.

"The last thing I remember is peering through the kitchen window to see your mother and---" A shiver runs down my spine at her words, my throat running dry.

"And?" He urges, his eyes changing to a stormy blue.

I gulp, my gaze shifting to my palms as they grow clammy, fear washing over me as slowly all the missing puzzles I have found since I started working here fall into place.

The slight shift in the air once you arrive at his residence, the countless bodyguards that happen to stand guard at all times, the hushed conversations I happen to hear in passing, the weird paintings and wood sculptures that seem to carry a hidden message.

"She asked what a human was doing at your house," I whimper, my heartbeat starting to pick up.

"And what do you make of that, dear Lisa?" He inquires, unhurriedly lifting his weight from the couch. If my heart had picked up speed moments ago, it's only fair to say it's about to beat out of my chest at this point.

Step by step he slowly covers the space between us, my whole body becoming paralyzed with fear as unknown expression takes form on his face. I try to look away but it comes off as if I'm transfixed by his blue eyes.

"That you aren't human," I squeak out, my lips quivering, my voice shaky.

"That's right Lisa," he smirks coming to stand at the foot of the bed. As I try to come to terms with his closeness, a hand wraps around my ankle and in an instant, I am pulled towards him, such that my face is inches below his. "I'm a werewolf."

Every bone in my body goes still, a sweat breaking out on my forehead as my brain processes his statement. “What?”

“I'm sure you expected it.” His eyes dart to my lips as I stand rooted in my spot. My brain screams at me to run but I can't seem to make my legs function.

I open my mouth however no sound happens to leave my lips. Different scenarios run through my mind in the few seconds we face each other. Books and movies I've entertained myself with proving futile as I didn't see this coming.

Praying that this is some kind of joke or prank I gulp and hope my voice doesn't fail me again as I speak. “You are lying.”

He narrows his eyes and straightens, the colour of his irises becoming sharper as he says in a quiet but stormy voice. “I don't lie.”

I observe him take a step back, his lips tilting in a smirk. Right in my face his eyes change to a deep red, his canines pop out like something out of a movie but scarier his nails elongate and become like sharp thorns.

“Wh- wh-”

“Does this look like a lie?” He implores in a low growl and the color drains from my face. Slowly his body returns to normal and he smiles wickedly. “That's only a half shift. If you are that scared then what will happen if you hear the next thing I'm about to say?”

“What is that?” My mouth releases the words before my brain can tell me to shut up.

“That I'm the Alpha of the Light Pack and you, my dear Lisa,” he comes to stand in his previous position and pecks my cheek. “Are you my mate.”

I jolt back on the bed, my arm hitting the headboard and causing me to hiss in pain. He brushes his nose with his forefinger and stares at me in amusement, lust and excitement swirling in his orbs.

“No,” I shake my head not wanting to believe. “This is a dream. It can't be real.”

“Believe it, Lisa,” his voice reduces an octave, his eyes becoming serious.

“No, I must still be sleeping,” I argue, my breath coming out hard and fast. “The last thing I remember was making cookies in the kitchen, so there's no way I am here.”

“There is,” he declares, eyes unblinking. “Because I commanded your body to shut down.”

I gasp in horror, a sob threatening to break out of my throat but I hold it in and ask in the voice I can muster, “You did what?”

“Keep your curiosity for later,” he states and turns on his heel. “Right now you need to leave.”

“What?” I clamour out in the query.

“I need you back here by” he paused to stare at the Rolex on his wrist. “7 pm. My mother and a few others will be waiting for you.”