All Chapters of Red Riding Hood Killed A Wolf: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Vincent pov     I've never tried so hard to make anyone believe in my words. Everything I said, I mean it. Sure, I could do my best to stay away from her and act like a fucking asshole towards her, but I couldn't sleep or live with myself every time I tried to do that. The look on her face kept running through my mind, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it kept coming back. At the end of the day, I know I have feelings for her, and I can't deny those.   Enya was right when she said we were enemies. We shouldn't be together. But even though I've tried to push that thought away, I've managed to develop feelings for someone who's supposed to be my prey. I'm the predator, and she should be my victim, the one who falls from my claws. But I can't do that. I can't hurt her and pretend I don't care.  

Enya pov  My cheeks burn; I feel like all the blood running through my body will end up in my face. I hide behind Vincent as the shirt is rolled up, and I don't want anyone here to see me half-naked. Besides, something tells me way too many shifters would ask me about my scars. And that's not a topic I want to talk to anyone about; if anything, I'd rather forget the fact and keep hiding it. The Alliance has always said that scars make a man look like a real man, but they have never mentioned women. I believe that scars don't make me beautiful; they are a part of my journey- the ugly, vicious and inhuman journey. They are a constant reminder of what I have done, of the horrible crimes I committed. I think Vincent realises how uncomfortable I am, so he doesn't budge. "Aros, can you do me a favour and leave my office for a few minutes? I'll let

Vincent pov     Two fucking weeks.  Fourteen damn days.  Three hundred and thirty-six excruciating hours.   While mountains could be moved in that time, I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than two minutes. Every time my body gives out and I pass out, I see her leaving. Over and over again. Though I haven't found her, I haven't caught a whiff of her scent- I've done enough to make every person in my pack avoid me. The night I found out Enya was gone, I trashed the entire living room in front of Angela and her family. The only positive thing about that shit is that they left. They left me alone and won't come back until I calm down. Needless to say, I have no intention of calming down anytime soon. Unless she comes back. 

Vincent pov "Vince?" The voice beside me startles me, and I almost flinch. I place a hand over my heart and exhale deeply. "Where are you going?" The question throws me off. Where am I going to go? Out for a run? To the nearest bar to get more drinks since I haven't drowned my misery yet? On an endless mission to find her, even though so many attempts have been unsuccessful? That's a good question- where am I going? I turn and look at Aros. Not much has changed; there's still worry in his eyes. I can't bear the guilt I feel for the things my best friend is going through because of me, so I avert my gaze. "I have to let Damien run. It's been a while," I lie. It's not about running, not anymore- every time we leave the packhouse, I check all our borders, hoping like a fool that I'll run into her nearby. Just for a moment, Hell, a second would do. I want to

Vincent pov Now it makes sense. Now, it makes so much sense that I'm feeling physically sick. All the time Enya's been under my roof, we haven't heard from Red. The Alliance terrorised a lot of packs, but none of the attacks was led or supported by Red, which was suspicious enough. They never had their army move out unless that shithead stood before them and told everyone what to do. And now they're telling me Enya was Red all along? MY person, MY woman, and the angel who put me out of my misery was to blame for the suffering, to begin with? I fell for an actual enemy? Was that what she was trying to tell me every time she pointed out that we were enemies? She wanted to warn me, she tried to confess, and I never cared enough to listen to her. Am I the bad guy, or is she to blame for this mess? I don't know what to feel anymore. I stare at her face as the