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Naomi's POV
There was no warmth in Marcus' eyes as he slowly stepped closer. I unconsciously took a step back not in fear but out of uncertainty of what he'd do next.
"You are mine." He declared with authority. "Always has, always will. There's no way you can deny that." As he spoke, he gently brushed my cheeks with his long cold fingers.
Instead of the feeling of arousal that normally took over whenever he did this in the past, I felt my skin shrivel in disgust at his touch, and I turned sharply away from his touch.
"Don't!" I said fiercely with my eyes defiantly fixed on his. "Don't touch me, Marcus," I repeated. "You lost the right to do that after your cold and brutal rejection. I am not yours and you made it clear that night you shattered my heart."
Marcus' smirk only widened. Almost as if my rebuke was amusing to him, a form of entertainment he was delighted to watch.
"Our bond still exists." He spoke in a whisper that only sent my heart thumping frantically within my ribs. "You are still mine and one way or the other, you'll soon realize that."
He leaned forward bringing his face closer to mine. I turned my face away from him, uncertain of what he wanted to do but with a grip of steel, he grabbed my face and brought it back to face him.
I gasped and tried to push him off from me but my hands did not affect his abs of steel. I was too scared to shout out, too scared to do anything foolish at the moment. At least he became violent.
He brought his mouth closer to my ear and whispered. "Welcome home, Naomi. Enjoy your freedom, while it lasts."
With those words, he suddenly let go and turned towards the door. He left the room without looking behind, and I was left alone, gasping for air while my hands trembled slightly at the encounter.
I quickly turned and made my way to the sink, stumbling more likely as I found myself disoriented after the unexpected encounter with Marcus.
I reached the sink and quickly turned the tap on with hasty fingers. I gushed a handful of water on my face with no regard to the makeup that Layla had labored to apply to my face earlier.
The water worked like a charm, soothing my nerves and restoring my confidence. I paused and stared at the mirror before me, taking in my natural face and my messy hair, disheveled by the water.
"Was this a good idea?" I asked myself. "Was coming back really worth it?"
NO REPLY.
All I got was myself staring back at me.
I took a deep breath and then splashed another handful of water on my face. That was when my ears caught the sound.
The door had opened but carefully and slowly... Next came muffled steps on the tiles as if the person was trying to be as quiet as they could be but my enhanced hearing picked up the sound immediately.
Please let it not be Marcus again..! I found myself complaining from within as I hastily wiped the water from my face.
I looked up into the mirror in front of me, which reflected the newcomer behind me.
For a moment, I was paralyzed in horror as I registered the 12-inch knife suspended above me, ready to strike.
My instincts suddenly kicked in as I took a dive roll to the other side of the washroom and even as I did so, I heard the mirror shatter on impact with the knife.
I scurried to a corner and turned to face the would-be assassin.
His hair was messy and mated with mud. His clothes were just as dirty and torn. He wore no shoes with his nails overgrown and caked with dirt underneath.
I knew immediately that I was looking at a rogue werewolf, a rogue assassin!
He sneered, exposing his yellow teeth as he approached again with the knife in one hand and the other hand with his extracted deadly claws.
At this point, it was death on either hand, and I was left to choose how I wanted to go, whether by steel or by the dirty but deedly claws.
"Who are you?! What do you want?!" I found myself asking, despite the leather danger I faced.
He paused as if my question caught him off guard.
"I am the last face you'll see, the last person you'll touch, and the last breath you'll feel as my blade or claws find your warm and beating heart." He replied in a raspy voice.
My skin crawled at his response but I barely had time to think when he attacked.
I knew I wasn't going to live forever. I knew that I'd go out one day but I had never pictured myself dying a coward, scared and shivering in the corner of a washroom at the hands of a rogue.
Before he could hit his mark, I launched myself at him. Ducking beneath his blade and then his claws, I slashed at his abdomen with my claws as my body rammed into him.
The impact sent him staggering back and I quickly regained my balance as I returned to my feet.
He was surprised that I had reacted the way I did. He wasn't expecting me to react the way I did. His surprise then gave way to amusement as he glanced at the damage I did to his abdomen and then back at me.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" He said and then slowly drew another knife from his belt, a wicked-looking silver knife coated with a slimy green substance. Even from where I stood, the smell found me and I realized immediately that it was poisoned with wolvesbane! Just a cut from that knife and I would be gone..!
"Come on kitty cat. Let's play." He said with a smirk.
With my heart pounding constantly, I began to calculate my chances of survival when the door was opened again, this time by a familiar face.
Layla paused in shock with her eyes surveying the scene she had unexpectedly walked in upon. For a moment we were all momentarily frozen until when Layla threw back her head and released a piercing shriek.
Without hesitation, the rogue made a run to the window, and without stopping even for a second, he crashed into the glass and was swallowed by the darkness of the night...