Elliot.
The fire in the living room crackled softly as I knelt beside the unconscious man, cleaning the gashes on his chest with as much care as I could muster. My mind still raced as I tried to piece together what had happened in the woods. The creature behind us. How it suddenly disappeared the moment we were out of the woods. What was it? I glanced up at the man's face, pale and slick with sweat, as I worked on bandaging a particularly nasty cut on his side. Only something as horrible as what was in those woods could have done something like this. I was sure of it. As I finished wrapping the last bandage, his body stirred. His eyes fluttered open, bleary, and unfocused. “Hey, take it easy,” I murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving too quickly. “You’re safe. Just… try to relax.” His gaze darted around the room, panic flashing in his eyes before they landed on me. He flinched, trying to sit up, but I gently pushed him back down. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice rough. “My place,” I replied. “I found you in the woods. You were attacked. Do you remember what happened?” Perhaps it was too soon to ask... His jaw clenched as he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. "I need to leave," He muttered, his voice tight with pain. He tried to push himself off the couch, but his body betrayed him, weak and shaking. “Whoa, whoa,” I said, holding him down. “You’re not going anywhere in this condition. You’re bleeding all over the place.” "I'm fine." He snapped, more forcefully than I expected. His hand moved to his side as if trying to hide the wound there. I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t look fine.” "I don't need your help." He insisted, becoming stupidly defensive. His eyes were wild, desperate. "Look, I'm not asking for thanks, alright?" I started against my better judgment. "But you were half dead when I found you, and I won't let you waste my efforts. What did this to you?" He didn't answer. Asshole. Instead, his eyes flickered toward the window, avoiding my gaze again. I followed his glance, half expecting to see something watching us in the darkness outside, but the night was quiet. "You need to speak." I pressed. "You were in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out from wounds that don't look like anything a normal animal could've caused. What attacked you?" "I don't know," he muttered, but there was hesitation in his voice. "Just.... leave it alone." "Leave it alone?" I scoffed, leaning back against the wall. "You were almost ripped to shreds. I'm trying to help you here, so I deserve some kind of explanation." He shifted uncomfortably, grimacing as his hands brushed against the bandages. "I didn't ask for your help." “Well, you sure as hell needed it.” His eyes shot to mine, a flash of anger there. "I told you. I don't need your help." I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my cool. "I dragged your sorry ass through the woods. You were bleeding everywhere, barely conscious. And you expect me to believe you don’t need my help? He didn't respond. Instead, his breathing came in ragged, shallow gasps as he struggled against the pain. Despite his attempts to seem unbothered, his body betrayed him as his face screamed in agony. "You're lying," I continued, watching him carefully. "You know what did this. Why won't you tell me?" He pressed his lips into a thin line, his fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket covering him. "It's not your business." “It became my business the moment I saved your life.” He turned his head away again, staring at the fire as if it held the answers. Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I could feel the tension radiating off him, the walls he was putting up to keep me out. "I saw something in the woods," I said quietly, breaking the silence. "Some sort of creature. Was that what did it?" His jaw clenched again, but he didn’t speak. “Is it coming back?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Am I in danger here?” For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, finally, he turned to look at me. His eyes were dark, guarded. “You don’t want to get involved.” I let out a frustrated breath. “Too late for that. I’m already involved. What was it? A wolf? A bear? Something else?” He didn't mean to, but I saw the way he flinched at the word 'wolf', and my suspicions flared. I leaned in closer, narrowing my eyes. "A wolf. It was a wolf, wasn't it?" "No," he said quickly, too quickly. "It wasn't." I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.” His lips parted as if he wanted to argue, but no words came out. Instead, he just stared at me, his expression hardening into something unreadable. “Fine,” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Don’t tell me. But whatever it was, it almost killed you.” He winced, his body trembling with effort as he tried to sit up again. “I need to leave. I can’t stay here.” "You're not going anywhere," I said, stepping in front of the door. "You were barely alive when I found you. You're not going to walk out of here like nothing happened.” He clenched his jaw, eyes darting around the room like he was already calculating an escape route. “You don't understand. I can't stay here.” For a long moment, he just stared at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His hand rested on the bandage covering his chest, fingers twitching slightly. “It's better you don't know,”,” he continued, his voice low and strained. “I think I’ve earned the right to know.” He shook his head, wincing as the movement caused him pain. “It’s not safe. For you. For anyone.” “Safe from what?” His lips pressed together in a thin line, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite place. “If I tell you, you’ll wish you’d never asked.” I stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. What could be so dangerous that he’d rather die than talk about it. Before I could ask another question, I noticed something strange. His hand, the one resting on his chest, wasn’t trembling as much as before. In fact, the colour in his face seemed to be returning, albeit slowly. “What the hell…” I muttered, leaning closer to inspect the wound I’d just cleaned and bandaged. The deep gashes across his chest were still there, but something was off. They didn’t look as raw as they had before. The skin around the cuts looked... different. As if it was already healing. “Impossible.” I whispered under my breath. His eyes snapped to mine, and for the first time, I saw panic flash across his face. “What are you doing?” “You’re healing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “These wounds… they’re closing up. How is that possible?” He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, trying to hide his injuries from my view. “Stop.” “Stop what? You’re...” “I said stop!” His voice was sharp, cutting through me like a whip. I stared at him in shock. His eyes were wild and wild with fear, and for the first time, I realized just how terrified he was. Of something I couldn't see. “What are you?” I asked, my voice barely audible. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. “It doesn’t matter. You need to stay out of this.” I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. The fire crackled softly in the background, the only sound in the otherwise tense room. “I can’t just....” “I’m warning you,” he cut me off, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t dig any deeper. For your own sake.” He opened his mouth to say more but then turned towards the window again. As if something outside was calling for him. “But…” Without another word, he walked towards the door, moving with such inhumane speed. His eyes never left mine, like he was certain I would do something rash. “I have to go.” He said quietly, before turning to face the doorway, his movements graceful as if he didn't sport such terrible wounds. Not human. I stood frozen, my mind spinning but the man was already gone.Damien. The air in the woods had been heavy, thick with the scent of my blood and the howl of something I wished I'd never heard. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, urging me to go back, to get to him. To the nameless stranger that had rescued me. I never should have let my guard down. Should have kept running. That was what rogues do. We did not get involved. We did not stay. We survived. But him... I clenched my fists, the human side of me fighting the wolf, torn between instinct and reason. My legs were aching from the miles I'd covered since I'd heard the howl, but something kept pulling me back. Him. How on earth had that puny human run with an unconscious me through this woods? My wolf growled low in my chest. "He's our mate." He didn't understand why I was hesitating. It never did. Wolves weren't wired like humans, they didn't care about logic or consequences. And it knew the man was ours. Ours to protect. Ours to stay with. But we couldn’t stay. Not with what w
Elliot. It was hard to think yesterday had actually happened. But after giving him a room to use as his and watching him eat cereal from a bowl this morning, I couldn't deny it. Damien. His name echoed in my mind, an unwanted anchor tied to my thoughts. I'd spent the night pacing, replaying every moment from yesterday, every word spoken. But right now, I didn't need this. This tension which seemed to simmer under my skin. Not when the mayor had sent someone to track whatever was happening in these woods. And that person was Frank. By the time I walked into the newspaper office, I was already on edge, barely holding it together. The tiny bell above the door jingled, and I braced myself. But Frank was already there, leaning against my desk, a smug grin stretching across his face. His eyes scanned me, searching for something to arouse his suspicion again. "Rough night, Elliot?" He asked with a pointed tone. I forced a smile, dropping my bag onto my desk. "Nothing a little coff
Elliot. It took a few days for me to get used to seeing Damien in my cabin. To get used to his… presence. The crackling of the fireplace filled the quiet cabin as I glanced over at Damien, who lounged on the old leather armchair across from me. He had been staying with me for almost a week now, and we had settled into an unspoken truce, an odd but comfortable rhythm of shared meals, stolen glances, and late night conversations that never strayed close to the truth. Or the questions I wanted to ask. There was something comforting about him being here. The way he was always watching, always on edge, as if he were guarding something precious. "So," I started, breaking the silence. "When would you tell me about how your wounds disappeared within a day." Damien's lips rose in a half-smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have really good genes." “Good genes,” I repeated, leaning forward. “First time I'm hearing of such a thing. Good genes don't usually lead to fast wound h
Elliot. Before I could ask again, my front door slammed open with a bang, yanking both Damien and me from the silence that had settled between us. I barely had time to react before Frank burst into the cabin, looking like he'd just unearthed a buried treasure... or worse, set a deadly trap. "Harper!" He practically shouted, his voice brimming with urgency. "You won't believe what I found!" Damien's sort of relaxed posture changed instantly, vanishing as he reclined deeper into the chair. His hazel eyes watched us, cold and calculating. "Frank," I snapped, struggling to keep my irritation in check. "What the hell are you doing barging in here?" Frank’s gaze darted to Damien, his frown deepening before snapping back to me. "I need to talk to you. Now." "About what?" I asked, glancing nervously at Damien, who just watched us, unnervingly still, his eyes locked on Frank. I wondered what was going through that mind of his. Frank hesitated, his tension evident when he finally spoke.
Elliot. "If you're so interested in dying, then be my guest. Go into the woods." Damien's words lingered like smoke in the air, poisonous and suffocating. I should have let it go. Any sane person would have. My body still ached from the last time I set foot in those cursed woods, and every nerve screamed at me to stay far away. Yet here I was, perched on the cabin steps as twilight deepened, my curiosity a dangerous vice. Damien had been restless for days, vanishing into the night without a word. Ever since that night, he had avoided me like I was the plague, leaving only the faintest hint of his presence... muddy boots by the door, or the lingering scent of pine and earth. Reports of claw marks spreading through town had reached fever pitch. Everyone was afraid. I should have been too. But fear was nothing compared to the pull for answers. The cabin door slammed shut behind me as Damien stalked past, his jaw clenched, his hazel eyes glinting under the fading light. "Are yo
Damien. Elliot abandoned me in the woods faster than my wolf could howl my name. The pine scented air clung to me as I stumbled out of the forest, my muscles still taut from the shift, my eyes still hollowed by the memory of those brown eyes... wide with terror, burning with betrayal. He saw me. Not just me, but the monster within. And he was right to run. But it burned deeper than any claw wound did. My wolf clawed at my insides, a mournful howl echoing in my head. "He's our mate." He whimpered as though the truth would erase the fear etched into his face. But we'd showed him everything he feared, everything he couldn't unsee. "Hurt me, Damien? You're... you're a monster." The words cut deeper than claws ever could, leaving me bleeding out in ways no healing could fix. But his absence hurt worse. Every step I took toward the cabin felt like dragging my body through broken glass. My mind replayed the sound of his voice, his scent lingering in the air... cinnamon and oud.
Elliot. Sleep was an elusive luxury. The golden rays of the sun pierced through the cabin's window, their warmth at odds with the icy weight on my chest. I couldn't escape the questions, regrets, and fear that churned inside me. When I finally dragged myself to the table, Damien was exactly where I’d left him, a statue of brooding silence. His unyielding posture only stoked my frustration I crossed my arms, my voice cutting through the stillness. "Are we really going to ignore the fact that you're a werewolf?" Damien's sharp eyes locked onto mine, his jaw tightening. He didn't flinch. Didn't deny anything. "I won't shift near the cabin if that's what you're worried about," he said flatly. "I need one last thing from you." "Oh? Just one?" I barked a bitter laugh. "You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?" "Yes," he replied without hesitation, his voice as sharp as the edge of a blade. "For your safety, Elliot. You can't tell anyone, not even a whisper." A dry, scornful la
Elliot. Returning to work was supposed to be easy. Even with the mayor’s backing, Frank would have moved on to the next story and let me dig into my own half-baked storylines. But, no. The moment I stepped into the office, Frank ambushed me like a predator spotting prey. "Elliot!" His voice rang out, loud and overly enthusiastic... an unwelcome sound for my under-caffeinated brain. "Glad to see you took my advice and rested. You're back, recharged, ready to tackle the next big story!" I froze mid-step. The way he grinned sent an uneasy prickle down my spine. "What are you talking about, Frank?" "Oh, you know," he said nonchalantly, leaning against my desk like he owned it. "I've been doing some digging since you seemed... preoccupied. You might be interested in what I found." My stomach tightened. “And what, exactly, did you ‘find’?” Frank's grin widened, his eyes alight with self-satisfaction. "Your friend, Damien. The one who showed up out of nowhere after you got yourself
Elliot.And people blamed me for disappearing for five years.What the heck had just happened?The night felt heavier after Damien left. His silhouette disappeared into the darkness, and with it, any sense of normalcy I thought we still had.Something was wrong... terribly wrong... and if he wouldn't tell me, I'd figure it out myself."Elliot, honey, what's going on? Is Damien alright?"I hesitated, not wanting to alarm her. “I don’t know, Mom. He just… needs some time to himself.”She wanted to say more. The way she moved around and her lips purse together. But thankfully, she kept them to herself and just motioned for me to come inside."You too. It's late, and you shouldn't be out in the cold."Yeah, she was right.I nodded but didn't move. "Mom, who was that man? Ryan?"Her brown eyes narrowed slightly, the worry on her face deepening. Once upon a time, my mom was the prettiest woman in the land, now the stress of old age, a child who disappeared for years, and work had worn her d
Damien."We need to talk."It was one thing for someone to barge into someone's house, neighbour or not. It was another thing for said person to come after a person eating dinner and minding their own business.The tension in the dining room was suffocating. The burly man, Ryan, stood close to the doorway, his shoulders blocking out the light. His eyes were still locked on mine, and I felt the weight of it as though it could crush me where I sat.Elliot’s family watched warily, their smiles vanishing. I would have given a million bucks to know what was going on in their mind."I said," Ryan repeated, his tone low and deliberate. "We need to talk, Damien."Elliot bristled beside me, his chair scraping the floor as he stood. "What the hell is going on? Who are you?" His voice was like sharpened knives. Ryan didn't spare him a glance. His focus was entirely on me, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. "You know who I am, kid."My stomach twisted.I didn't know thi
Damien.I didn't feel much better the next morning.No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I was probably imagining things, and I couldn't probably have gutted a random girl in the street of New York.Not even a little.My stomach was a tangled mess of nerves, excitement, and uncertainty as Elliot drove us to his childhood home deeper in the city of New York.I had no idea what to expect from meeting his family... what kind of impression I would make, and whether they would accept me.But as much as I hated to be introduced as just a friend, part of me was eager to just see the life he had grown up in, to understand him a little better.Elliot tightened his hand on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road. He looked different today... a bit more casual, no more of the anxiety filled, heightened senses, intense persona he'd been wearing.He looked lighter, almost... happy.It made me want to reach out, slam my lips on those perfect lips, and continue our activity from yester
Damien.This probably wasn't the best time for this.I didn't kiss Elliot because I wanted to. Not that I didn't want to, but not when he was confessing his guts out about what happened to his dead fiancée five years ago.That wouldn't be fair. Not to him. Not to me. But he was so close.His lips trembling with each word, his breath ragged as if the weight of the past was too much to carry on his own.And his eyes... moon goddess, his eyes... they were darker than usual, filled with so much pain that I could feel it in my own chest.And yet... all I could think about was how much I wanted him.Maybe it wasn't the best time. Maybe it was a terrible idea.But the way he looked at me, the way he leaned into me when I touched his face, it felt like an invitation I couldn't turn away from.I cupped his jaw, brushing my thumb over the stubble on his chin, the action almost instinctive. This wasn't the first time we kissed. He had a whole mark on his neck from me.But it just felt right.
Elliot."You can't possibly know that."I pushed Damien's hand off my shoulder, barely sparing him a glance. "Leave me alone.""Elliot...""Just... please." I didn't wait for a response, ducking out of the restaurant and into the streets.I heard Damien's footsteps behind me at first, his steady, relentless presence tracking me, but I didn't turn around.He'd catch on eventually. I just needed space.My feet took me though blocks and alleys without thought, my mind whirling with everything Ethan had thrown at me, every accusation he'd nailed to my skin. I didn't care where I was going, as long as I was alone.Everything...The neon lights outside an old boutique caught my eye, and I stopped, hesitating. This was her boutique.The one she dragged me to whenever she could. One she loved.How did I make it here?I knew every inch of the store... each table, every display, the delicate scent of lavender that lingered on everything she’d brought back from it on the days she didn't drag m
Elliot."Ethan, enough!"The walls here felt like they were closing in on me the moment I heard Ethan’s voice. His eyes, so similar to mine in shade but hardened with something darker, held a glint of satisfaction at catching me off guard and making me lose my marbles.The asshole.I felt Damien's hand under the table, firm on my knee, grounding me. But my heart was already pounding so hard, and my grip on the glass of water tightened as I forced myself to meet my brother’s eyes."I'll meet them when I'm ready." I managed, voice barely above a whisper."When you're ready, huh?" Ethan laughed exactly like he did when we were younger. Mockingly. He drew curious glances from a few tables nearby. "That shouldn't surprise me. It also wouldn't surprise me if you never showed up. That's your specialty."The words sliced through me, unearthing memories I'd tried to bury. Damien's hand tightened on my knee, but it did nothing to soften the impact. My throat had closed up, my mind already spir
Damien.The moment we crossed into New York, I could feel the tension building in Elliot.His body had gone rigid beside me, his fingers clenched tightly into the fabric of his jeans.His face was drawn, mouth a thin line as he stared straight ahead, his eyes wide, darting from side to side like he couldn't keep up with everything.“Elliot.” I kept my voice calm, steady. “You okay?”His shoulders twitched, but he didn't answer, his eyes flicking to the blaring car horn, the flashing billboards, the sea of people moving like a torrent down the side walks.It was rush hour, and every sound seemed amplified.I could feel Elliot's pulse racing just by looking at him. "Damien," he finally whispered, voice trembling. "It's… it’s too much. It’s..."His words cut off as a siren blared behind us, and he clamped his hands over his ears, wincing. I watched his face go pale, his eyes glassy as he tried to steady himself.I was so glad we changed positions earlier when he complained of cramps."A
Damien."Two weeks. No more."Frank's truck was actually not what I had expected. It wasn't a beat-up old thing that reeked of stale cigarettes and sweat.There weren't food wrappers and coffee mugs littered around.It was clean. Smelled like lavender with very comfortable seats.Which, in turn, made me very uncomfortable. But the moment Elliot slid into the driver’s seat, his hands curling around the steering wheel, I felt something strange... almost like I was where I was supposed to be.Frank had thrown the keys at him with a hard look, grumping. "Nothing should happen to it, Elliot. And if you dare extend this so-called break with a minute, I'll consider you as good as gone. I'm already hanging by a thread with the last break you took."He'd walked off with barely another word, but I hadn't missed the anger in his eyes when he glanced back at me.After all, I made him give Elliot his truck."Ready?" Elliot’s voice brought me back. He was watching me, eyebrows raised, as if he cou
Elliot.The next morning came in a haze of soft, warm light filtering through the thin curtains.The world outside was quiet, as though it respected the fragile calm that was within me.Damien left earlier.Perhaps to do some light hunting or other werewolf stuff.It gave me time to let my fingers grazed where he had marked me last night. A reminder of the bond we had forged... another reminded that Damien and I were actually mates."One cannot mark someone who is not their mate." A line from the book jumped at me.I was lost in the sensation, the dull ache of the mark that seemed to reach deeper than the skin.My hand lingered there, pressing against the slight swell of soreness when the door opened, and in walked Damien, a wolfish smile tugging at his lips.His eyes drifted immediately to my hand resting on the mark."Does it hurt?" He asked, concern lacing his voice."A little," I admitted, trying not to sound too vulnerable. "But it's... manageable."He sat down on the edge of the