Lauretta pov He bent and blew on the bruises, the tickly sensation made my toes curl.
He dabbed the iodine again and I winced in pain.
“Sorry,” he said.
I nodded my head, closing my eyes and soaking in the wind blowing through the open window, being in a car with a hot stranger away from my life problems.
“Lauretta,” Malachi’s high-pitched voice startled me.
Lucian froze with the cotton wool still in his hand.
“I can explain, Malachi.
I saw your wife badly injured—she nearly ran into my car.
She was running.
I don’t know where she was running to.” I turned to face him.
His brows were furrowed in anger, his face tense, his body standing rigidly beside the car.
“You didn’t see it fit to send her back instead?
You’re curled up with her in your cozy car, treating her injury like you’re her husband.” “What else did you two get up to?
Did you feel her up, Lucian?” “Get down from the car, Lucian, and let’s talk.
You’re lucky I haven’t ripped your throat out yet.” My heart hammered against my ribs as I climbed out of the car.
Lucian followed right behind me.
Almost immediately, like a whirlwind, Malachi shifted—fangs bared, launching at Lucian before I could even flinch.
“Malachi—” I didn’t finish.
Bones cracked and reformed beside me in a violent blur, fur rippling out where skin had been a second before.
He came up white-coated, striped in black, easily twice his human size.
Malachi lunged at luciani, who met him mid-air and sank his teeth into Lucian’s neck on impact.
Blood sprayed across the asphalt.
Lucian didn’t go down.
He twisted, snarling, and they crashed together again and again—a tangle of claws and fur rolling off the road and into the dark past the tree line.
I could still hear them out there, snarling and colliding, long after I lost sight of them, the sounds swallowed by the cold and the silence of the empty road.
I stood there shivering against the car, arms wrapped tightly around myself, straining to hear which of them had gone quiet.
Footsteps.
Close.
I spun around—and before I could see who it was, a black tarp dropped over my head.
I thrashed and screamed, feeling my wolf claw desperately under my skin, desperate to break free.
Then I felt a hand under the tarp press a burning, wet cloth to my nostrils.
I thrashed harder, crying out in the hope that someone would hear me.
No one came.
Where was Malachi?
Where was Lucian?
I was already feeling light-headed, my knees buckling, my eyes fading to black.
The whiplash of cold water over my body jerked me awake.
My head throbbed with a migraine.
I sat on a wooden chair, my hands bound beside me with thick twine that chafed my naked arms and drew blood as I tried to wriggle.
The movement sent intense throbs shooting through my skull.
Everything was dark.
Where was I?
I could smell the faint hint of coffee in the air—was I in a room?
I couldn’t see anything.
It was almost like the tarp was still on top of my head, but I was sure it wasn’t.
Suddenly I heard light footsteps.
I wriggled harder on the chair even as I knew my struggle was useless.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
My hands were cold but clammy on my side My poor mother would witness the death of her only daughter, even though we had our differences I still loved her very much, she had already planned to come to the naming ceremony of her grandchildren and now there would be none of that,the thought made a sob tear itself out of my throat.
“Who are you?
What do you want?” I quizzed, making my voice high-pitched and loud in case anyone around could save me from this nightmare.
I swallowed, moistening my parched throat.
“You don’t have to be scared.” A deep baritone voice replied.
I would have chuckled if the situation wasn’t so grim.
“Please don’t hurt me.
I’m my mother’s only child,” I pleaded, a sob catching in my throat.
“I know that, Lauretta,” he answered.
Why didn’t he just show himself?
The fact that he was answering me in the dark sent shivers down my spine.
He reminded me of a ghost in a horror movie—one that had the power to destroy but no one could see.
“How do you know my name?” I wriggled on the chair even more intensely, thrashing about, making my arms sore and bleeding, but I didn’t care.
Even though I looked like I was dancing some kind of mad dance.
“It’s pointless, Lauretta.” The footsteps were louder now.
He was coming closer.
I could catch faint hints of sandalwood—Malachi’s exact scent.
Who was this man?
I could see his shadow and I knew he was standing in front of me.
I held my breath, as if he didn’t hear me breathe, he wouldn’t know I was on the chair.
He merely chuckled, walking behind me and opening the blinds.
Light poured into the sparse room.
A threadbare rocking chair stood adjacent to me.
Nothing else was in the room—just the wooden floor, the asbestos ceiling, and the rocking chair.
The man was still behind me.
He stepped into view slowly and crouched down toward me.
He was the same man who had caught me as I was about to fall.
I could almost still feel the memory of his hand on my back, breaking my fall.
His eyes pierced through mine, a smirk fixed on his clean-shaven face.
My mouth was agape with shock and surprise rolling through me all at once.
What did he want with me?
“I know you remember me, Lauretta,” he said, resting his warm hand on mine.
“Let me go.” The words burst out of me before I could think.
He glared at me before breaking into a staccato of laughter.
“Never ask that of me, Lauretta, because it’s the one thing I cannot do.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Alternate_Eden I had too much fun writing this chapter, dear readers please tell me what you think .