Enemy of my Enemy

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

Present Day

Bianca drifted into the land of the waking... But this couldn't be the real world, because in the real world, her walls at the Redwood House were pale rose gold, not plain white. In the real world, her room didn't have a window.

No.

He wouldn't have done this to her. Grayson never would've brought her back here, not when she knew how much she loathed Lorenzo.

And yet, the scenery of her old bedroom surrounding her felt so real.

"I know you. You can take control, Grayson."

How wrong she had been.

For the first time since before the night of the Blood Moon, Bianca looked at herself in the mirror. She could hardly recognize herself. Her face was so marred that it was hard to tell whether she was even a person at all. Even now, she could sense how dangerously close her blood was to reaching a boiling temperature.

She should go back to bed. She should fall back asleep, so that she would be able to wake up back in the Redwood House, far away from the man who had turned his back on his own daughter.

But how was she supposed to do that, when there were nightmares prowling behind her every thoughts? Would she ever be able to find peace after having played the sole victim to an unhinged alpha's attack?

The creature that was neither man nor wolf stood on its hind legs. It foamed at the mouth, desperate for the taste of blood. Its eyes were glimmering rubies, like rings that decorated the fingers of the Devil himself.

Bianca didn't move. She couldn't have, even if she'd wanted to- She'd lost too much blood and energy to her silver wound.

She held her breath. He wasn't going to hurt her, she tried to tell herself. He would never hurt her. Not like all the others had. So many people in her life had caused her both physical and mental pain, had stuck literal and figurative knives in her back, but he was different. She'd known from the start there was a high chance of him being like the rest, but time after time, he'd proven her wrong. Grayson and Bianca were the only ones that fully understood each other. Their fates were intertwined. Beast or not, no version of Grayson would ever hurt-

A scream tore through the night air, and it took Bianca far too long to realize that scream belonged to her. Her left arm was barely managing to hang onto her shoulder. Another slash later, she could see the whites of her bone.

During the first few minutes of the feral attacks, Bianca could do nothing but scream. There was no way for her to form any words while in such pain.

"Grayson," she managed to sob, long after the attacks had begun. "Grayson, stop this. I know you don't want to do this."

He'd continued. Over and over again, slash after slash, bite after bite. She hadn't been able to even attempt to run. She could only lay there on the ground of the cave, desperately crying out and begging for the morning to come.

Hours in, and she'd forgotten what the word 'morning' meant. There was no way she'd be able to wait long enough for the sun to rise. Her limbs had been torn apart, she was drowning in a deep pool of her own blood...

She just wanted it to end, for everything to just end. Was that too much to ask?

Bianca must've fallen unconscious at least three times. During those blessed moments, she dreamed that it was over, that she was safe again. Safe in his arms.

Each time, she was woken by the sound of her own cries. It was torture unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She was sure this was what eternity must feel like.