Chapter 6

Willow’s pov

 

 

They all gathered around me, the familiar disgust in their eyes. I was like prey on display, beaten up and bleeding while they laughed and sneered at me. 

“Pathetic”

“Loser”

“Mutt”

 

Father yanked my hair while he shouted at me.

"Die, you worthless girl; why are you still alive? You killed your mother, so die.”

 

I tried to cover my ears; his words hurt more than the seeping wounds. I cried to the goddess to make them stop; to make it stop, why do I have to suffer so much?

 

Just then suddenly he walked in; they couldn't see him since their whole attention was on me. They didn't sense the danger lurking behind them, smiling devilishly. I tried to scream to warn them of the danger behind them, but my voice was silent. All I heard were screams of pain as their heads were falling off and rolling in the ground. Bodies were flying everywhere as the madman took turns killing them all.

 

His hand glistening in red as he laughed satisfactorily, looming over me.

 

“I did it all for you, Willow, and now that you have no one, you belong to me now. Mine to play with as I please. My sweet, worthless Willow.”

 

“No! No! Get away from me. Leave me alone." I screamed “Please leave me alone.”

 

I trashed and kicked with all my strength, and suddenly warm hands were shaking me.

 

 

"Hey, hey, calm down; its okay, you are safe. It was just a nightmare, okay? You are safe.”

 

I pushed off the hard body, trying to console me. I ran towards the dark end of the room, trying to calm my racing heart. My face was wet from the tears, but there were no wounds in my body. 

It felt so real.

 

I glanced around my environment quickly, mentally searching for Dwane. In my dreams, he captured me. But I was awake, and he was not there; instead, a pair of blue eyes kept following my every movement. I instantly tensed and watched him with wary eyes. But he didn't make any attempt at moving. He was still in the same position as when I pushed him and ran to the corner. Making no effort to chase after me, like he is being careful to approach a scared cat.

 

My throat felt insanely dry. Reality suddenly dawned on me. Where am I? What am I doing here? How long have I been here?

I tried to swallow and relieve my patched throat, but almost as if reading my mind, the man in front of me stretched his hand, offering me a cold bottle of water.

 

I was too thirsty to refuse or be wary of whatever was inside it as I chugged it down, almost choking myself.

 

“Be careful, you can drink it slowly; there is more where that came from.”

 

I could see a semblance of a smile from him. And it was the most beautiful sight. He was breathtaking, and I found myself gawking shamelessly. Suddenly it clicked in my brain. It was him when Dwayne captured me. It was him.

 

“Who are you? What are you going to do with me?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.

 

“Seems we should have given you water instead of treatment; look how vibrant you already are after drinking water,” he said with a chuckle.

 

“Seeing as you are in my home without an invitation, don't you think you are supposed to be the one answering my questions?”

 

I looked around nervously; the room was beautifully furnished and painted in grey and white. Nothing like the fancy glittery porcelain ornaments that father hung around his room and all around the visitor's lounge, saying they were currently fashionable, or the overly decorated chairs and dainty tables that couldn't even handle a teenage werewolf’s strength. Getting destroyed at the slightest scuffle.

 

Everything in this stranger’s home was practical and particularly chosen for comfort and its strength to withstand the rough nature of werewolves. I glanced back at the man who had been silently observing me.

 

 

“How long have I been here?”

 

“Two days, you have been sleeping for two days,” he said, rubbing his temples.

 

“I'm sorry, I will leave immediately.”

 

The worst mistake I made was hastily trying to stand up; dizziness enveloped me and sent me falling backward. I suddenly found myself wrapped up in a mass of warm muscles. The feel of him on my skin sent warm awareness in every part of me. His smell was suddenly intoxicating, and all I could think and feel was him; my body was humming in response, and parts of me that I never knew worked suddenly ached with need.

 

The shock of it seemed to make him drop me in an instant. His breathing was heavy and his eyes a darker shade of blue. He looked at me with a look that was way too unfamiliar to me. He seemed to be in the same dilemma as me. It was a relief to know I wasn't the only one feeling like I was zapped by electricity. His chest was rising and falling as he took a few steps backwards before settling down on the couch opposite me.

 

“So what is your name?” He questioned; his voice came out raspy as though he was out of breath or desperate to hear my name.

 

“I'm Willow”

I withheld my last name, praying he wouldn't ask for more details.

 

"Willow,” he repeated, as if thankful to learn my name.

 

“Do you remember the last thing that happened before you fainted?”

 

Images of my father's body flying around, the smell of blood, and wolves tearing at each other had me suddenly shaking as tears began falling freely down my cheeks.

 

"Hey, it's okay; you are safe now. I just wanted to know what happened. You don't have to talk about it right now.”

 

“I looked up at him and wondered how someone who looked so powerful and tough could possess such gentleness and kindness. This was the most kindness I have received all my life, and from a stranger whose name I am yet to know.

Do I even deserve the kindness? 

 

What will he do to me when he finds out my mate killed my whole pack?

That the mate I have been so desperate for all my life murdered everyone I knew, and that deep down, I barely care about their death.

 

What will he think of me then?

 

 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and I saw him stiffen.