Werewolves?
She lived a world where being mundane was rare. In a world where werewolves existed. In a world where werewolves ruled. In a world where they sought for their long lost maiden warrior.
When the lost was found, she was not their warrior...
"I love you. You're mine. I'll kill any bastard who tries to take you from me." -Samantha Young, On Dublin Street
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My eyelids flutter open as the solid silver door opens automatically. I was sleeping, more like trying to sleep. All because I prefer sleeping over crying. A wave of strong déjàvu flows over me as I reminisce the same emotions and feelings I experienced two years ago. An undistinguished silhouette enters the cell. Too drained out to strain my eyes at the source of light I shut them close again.
Jake walks closer and removes the silver handcuffs on my wrists. He observes my wrists closely as he sees no burnt marks on them. Silver doesn't affect me as it does for other wolves. What can I say? Advantages of being Silverette. He raises his eyebrows questioningly while I avoid the question with a shrug. He notes me with a sharp look and helps my stand up. I wince as a thousand needles prick my feet. He tightens his hold on me.
He seats me down on a barstool nearby switches on the fluorescent light. My eyes roam for my sneakers I had removed before he handcuffed me. He picks my shoes up and dumps them in front of me. I try to crouch down but, straighten up as my spine aches from the static position I laid in, for a long time.
Jake bends down and puts my shoes on me. As he finishes tying up my shoelace, I try saying a thank you which sounded more like a frog croaking, all credits to my parched throat. "Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?" he asks. I shake my head indicating a no and get up grasping the wall for support. Jake rolls his eyes at my stubbornness and sweeps me up in bridal style.
He carries me to a branded luxury car, opens the front seat and sits me down on the seat. Then walks to the driver's seat and starts driving. I turn towards him to ask him where he was taking me, but once again my parched throat betrays me and it turns out like a croak. Jake chuckles and reaches for a water bottle. I grab it and drink. Some sort of substance touches my tongue after about eighteen hours because I only had lunch yesterday. The cool liquid flows through my throat soothing it in the way.
I finish the bottle quickly, cap it up and hand it over to him. He deposits it in the back seat. I clear my throat and begin, "So..." And he turns towards my direction. Knowing my unspoken question he answers, "Alpha wanted me to bring you to his house." "But he is the one who wanted me to leave, right?" I reply thoughtfully. What the hell is he even thinking? I hate dealing with these bipolar personalities.
"You don't get how hard this is for him, Blythe!" he snaps. My temper rises up the thermometer almost reaching the top. "Oh really? I'm not asking him to do this! He could've just let me go if I'm being a burden to him. I'm not asking for him, his embrace, his love and whatnot. He could've just let me go yesterday. I did no fault. He had to punish me for trespassing. Fine! His duty as an Alpha, I appreciate. He could've let me go today. But hell no! He wants me to be there but, it's hard for him. You know what Jake, just tell him to get lost!"
