Chapter 2 Episode 2

Megan POV

I wait for the hit to land as I shut my eyes.

Instead, I sense the box being yanked from my grasp. He's taken several steps backward, away from me, as if being too near to me may harm him when I open my eyes again.

He seems as angry as ever but also a little bit confused. He seems unsure what to do as he glances left, right, and finally down at the box.

Yes, both of us.

"You," he replies, a snarl in his deep voice. You kicked me.

I see-in sable hair.

Regrets. I managed to add, "I was afraid." "I mean, I'm afraid."

It seems unreal all of a sudden. As if the mysterious, seductive, scary, gorgeous, and deadly stranger before me isn't my partner, and I'm not wandering in the woods at night.

Let me know your name. He asks it bluntly as if it were a demand rather than a question.

"Oh, Meg,"

Meg??? How come I said that? That moniker bothers me!

He looks at me for a long time, and after that, I understand that none of us knows what to do.

Then, for the only time, he pokes his chin out over my shoulder.

Is he... Is he requesting that I leave? Can I leave him now?

He doesn't have to tell me again, however!

I had to push back the tears from his azure eyes. I flee, turning my back on my friend.

**

All the way home, I ran. I keep going till I reach the front door of my modest two-bedroom ranch-style home. I don't stop once.

After making sure the door is locked behind me, I virtually pass out, holding my chest in. The whirlwind in the woods exhausted me, not the run.

"Hello," a voice from behind me says. My brother Ben was seated on the couch, but I was too focused on getting inside securely to pay attention to him. He's wearing a headset around his neck and is holding a gaming controller. "Jeez, Bel, you look like trash," he adds, furrowing his nose in my direction.

"You too, Ben, thank you." I exhale. Ben, who is five years my senior, was my guardian until I became eighteen. He essentially raised me. Therefore, he's the only person I have in the world. In addition, he is the only one who can call me Bel, which makes us "Ben and Bel," which he finds amusing.

"Have a rough night?" he inquired, un-pausing his game.

It's possible to say that. I collapse onto the sofa next to him. "Have you eaten?"

"Mm-hmm," he responds. "Burrito is frozen."

"That isn't genuine food, Ben."

"That's strange since I enjoyed it."

I exhale. Naturally, I would want to tell him everything, including the misplaced drop, being lost, being pursued, almost dying, and meeting. However, speaking it all out loud seems draining, and I'm already worn out. Ben becomes quite protective of me, so he would want to find out who this person is. He would also probably have some harsh words for Clyde for putting me on such a risky mission in the first place.

I tell them, "I'm going to take a lengthy shower," instead.

He tells me, "It's probably an excellent idea." "Your hair is covered with leaves."

I sarcastically thank Ben as I struggle to get off the sofa.

"Bel, you're welcome."

I go into my little bedroom down the hall to change into my new clothing, and I grin to discover my bed fully loaded with freshly laundered garments. Ben is an excellent sibling. It's just been him and me for as long as I can remember. It was too little for me even to remember; our parents passed away when I was tiny. I have images of them, but I can't remember their faces.

For a time, we were housed with an aunt who wasn't particularly kind to us and thought of us more as a burden. Ben helped us out and got us out of there as soon as he was old enough to work. I then started working at the restaurant when I turned sixteen. We eventually saved enough money to buy this run-down small house, and we've lived there ever since.

What happened to our parents is unknown to me. Ben doesn't say he doesn't, at least not that he does. If he does, he flatly refuses to discuss it. We've been outlaws for almost my whole life.

Not a pack?

Guardians? Not one.

Friend? Maybe murderous. That one, let's say, "TBD."

Big brothers, bless the goddess. He's at least with me.

I found new scratches on my skin from the tree branches when fleeing, so I took the longest shower of my life, washing my hair twice and wincing a few times. I'm in the shower when I hear Ben yell, "Bel, you do remember we paid for hot water, right?" and beat on the door.

I had to wipe my palm over the mirror when I got out because it was so steamy. I hold a few hairs up to my nose and inhale. Of course, the smell of French fries is still there, but at least it's blended with my shampoo's pleasant flavour.

I bid Ben good night, shut the door to my bedroom, and tuck myself beneath the covers while my mind races with a hundred other things. I unconsciously browse social media on my phone without really reading anything.

I can attempt to digest everything that occurred tonight now that I've had a shower, am a little more at ease, and my heart rate has returned to normal. And then I realised some frightening facts:

1) Tonight, I had my date.

2) I smelled like I had a burger grease bath when I saw my partner tonight.

3) This evening, when he was attempting to murder me, I met my partner.

4) I kicked my friend in the face to meet him tonight.

5) I was dirty, sweating, and had leaves in my hair when I met my partner tonight.

6) Above all, however, I did meet my partner tonight.

Remembering that I told him my name was Meg makes me moan out loud. Then, realising I neglected to ask him his name, I sigh again.

I sat up straight in bed, realising why he was staring at me angrily. It had nothing to do with my being an outsider in his domain. I was his mate and a rogue, which was why. He realised it, too, as our fingers met, and he must have been quite disappointed.

Would you choose me to be their partner? A renegade server with nothing? It's unlikely that I'll see him again. And he'll probably turn me down right away if I do.

Not like Meg, Nobody would have experienced anything like it before.

I hear something outside my window even as I'm thinking about it. A person wouldn't even notice the little rustle, much less take any notice of it. However, I wake up from my slumber and, after seeing how much of a mess raccoons created when they got into our trash can, I gently open the curtains to gaze outdoors.

I sigh.

I take my hand away from the blinds like they were on fire.

A guy is standing in the moonlight on our little yellow grass area.

I guess he followed my smell. Not that it would have been difficult.

This is it under my roof.