Chapter 5 C5

Staring straight at me is a complete stranger. Though strange is

far from the word I'd use to describe him.

As soon as my eyes lock with his, all of my senses immediately

pulse in unison, shaking me to my core. All my attention is on him

and only him. His smell, his looks, and even the pleasant rhythm of

his heart in my hyperactive hearing. Or maybe that's just mine

beating violently out of my chest.

He's sitting cross legged on the forest floor, leaning forward as if

to get a closer look at me. His eyes are a pure obsidian color, and

they hold an uncanny resemblance to the glowing red ones I

vaguely remember. His messy hair is a brownish copper, which

matches the thin layer of clean cut stubble on his perfect jawline.

Even with the small bit of distance between us, it's clear that his

build is larger than an average person's. Not to mention three

times as muscular.

I can't even try to think straight. He's attractive in a way no one

person should be allowed to be.

His fingers flex in and out, the tendons in his wrists popping up

along with some veins in his forearms. Judging from the raw

power stored in that action alone, it would be ridiculously easy for

him to take a life away.

Those hands look like they could bring death in a dozen different

brutal ways- and I feel like they have. Yet for some reason, I

yearn to reach out and touch them.

The pulsing sensation gets stronger, making my focus on him so

heightened that everything else is dull.

My lips part slightly, but no words come out. Instead it gets stuck

in the front of my mind, lingering at the tip of my tongue.

Mate.

I flinch at the word.

He makes a move to get up and I scramble backwards on my butt,

fighting my every instinct to go forward.

My back meets the smooth trunk of a snow covered, fallen beech

tree. It blocks me from going any further and I exhale heavily. Of

course that's my luck.

He's coming slowly toward me, making my breath hitch. From a

standing position his size looks impossibly larger, and impossibly

like a force not to be reckoned with.

His nostrils flare as he sniffs the air. A low growl rumbles in his

chest, getting louder as it travels up to his throat. "You smell like

him ," he says in disgust, pushing it out through gritted teeth.

Him? Does he mean Nathan?

But if that bothers him, then that makes two of us.

"And you smell like a wet dog," I retort without missing a beat. That

was a lie. That was the biggest lie I've told in my entire life.

He smells good. Really good. Like an addictive, masculine cologne

mixed with the natural scent of a pine forest. And the fact that that

scent makes my stomach twist with nerves scares me.

His gaze burns into me, telling me I made a mistake. The lighting

in his dark eyes seems to dance, like a black and grey fire burning

in his irises. It's as though it signifies a battle of some kind... like

he's fighting with his own inner wolf.

"What are you to him," he finally asks, the growl still in his voice.

"Why does it matter," I fire back. My wolf may already trust him,

begging for his arms to encompass me, but I can't say the same.

He takes another step forward, hands clenching into fists. "Answer.

The. Question."

I stay silent for what feels like centuries. Some part of me doesn't

want to tell him the truth. Not only because it would be voicing my

misfortune and misery, but also because I somehow feel like I've

betrayed him.

"Where is everyone?" I ask instead, trying to change the subject.

His shoulders visibly tense, as if I've made him uncomfortable. For

the first time, he breaks eye contact.

The way I see it, he doesn't have the right to be uncomfortable in

this situation. I do.

He doesn't answer the question, which only makes my mind race

faster. I happen to glance past him and a lump forms in my throat

at what I see. The snow is disturbed and sprawled everywhere.

Bright patches of red stain what was once sparkling white.

Among that, my eyes land on a piece of hot pink fabric laying in

the middle of it. A headband.

I dare to venture further, looking even farther past.

A body is laid, sprawled and broken in the snow. I recognize the

disheveled fiery red hair.

My blood runs cold.

"Did you...?" I don't need nor want to finish the sentence.

He follows my line of vision before answering with a simple,

emotionless reply.

"Yes."

I swallow hard, feeling my hands start to shake. Goddamn it, why

am I so nervous? If he wanted me dead he would've killed me

while I was unconscious.

"W-Why...?"

"She hurt you."

As if on cue, my hand comes up to touch the bandage around my

head. He cares if I'm hurt or not?

No response comes to mind for that. That girl didn't mean

anything to me. She made snide comments about everything and

walked over everyone. She was rude and a pain in the neck, but

still... it doesn't seem believable.

But if Sophia is dead... who else went with her?

I hadn't even realized I was lost in thought, staring at the ground

until the snap of a twig pulls me back to reality. My neck doesn't

even have time to turn before I'm being scooped off the ground,

pressed against a warm, solid body.

An electric sensation ignites wherever we touch, erupting my skin

in a tingling, pleasant fire. It's like a chain reaction, making my

heart start to pound again in my chest, along with my muscles

relaxing instantly.

The logical part of my brain tells me I should be concerned about

where he's taking me. But I can't focus on anything except his

body against mine. My neck tilts to rest on his shoulder, the

sensation lulling me into a state of tranquility.

Whether it's the possible concussion giving me hallucinations or

not, I think I hear a faint, animalistic purr in response.

I close my eyelids, focusing on the smooth gait of his walk while

being carried by arms that make me the equivalent of weightless.

It seems like minutes pass by before I open my eyes again. When I

do, we're in the small village of my pack. I happen to look up, and

in the second story window of one of the houses, half a dozen

pairs of eyes are staring down at us.

Among them are Mya's. Her face is twisted with contempt, glaring

hatred at me even through the glass. I can't be bothered to react

this time.

I look around and notice that not a single person is outside.

They're all in the windows, peaking out and watching us like

hawks. It's almost as if they're scared of something.

What did they witness that I didn't? Besides Sophia's death...

I'm carried straight through the middle of the village, right to the

grand cabin at the end; the one notoriously known as the Alpha's

house. The stranger carrying me- my mate?- is unfazed. He

continues on as if it's his territory. As if he has every right to be

here.

He steps over the threshold of the front door, angling me carefully

so that my feet don't hit the frame when we pass.

The entire pack just watched helplessly as a trespasser waltzed

through our village, and stepped into the Alpha's house without a

trace of hesitation.

What did he do to them?

The door clicks shut, plunging the room into darkness at the mercy

of night.

But more importantly, my stomach knots as the stairs creak under

the weight, what will he do to me?