Florentine

two

     I peeled it open.

April 16th, 1994

   Dear diary,

   My name is Quintessa Davius. I'm seventeen years old, brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin. If you are reading this you are probably in the same situation I'm in. Today is my birthday, and I was given this diary as a gift, and I might as well use it if I'm locked in this room for the rest of my life. I will tell you my story as I live it, and just tonight is enough to make my head spin.

   I was outside at my pack, enjoying the darkness of the night like I do most nights I can't sleep. I had my blanket out on the grass and just lied there staring at the stars. It was so peaceful, like a scene out of one of the many books I've read over my lifetime. It was all well until I heard a noise.

   It was like a crash, as if someone took a bulldozer and smashed it through the front door. I had immediately gotten up, curious to see where it came from, as I was a curious spirit by nature. By the time I had gotten inside a bunch of men had already flooded in, heading to different rooms. I was shocked to say the least.

   That's when I saw the tallest, most well built hulking man I had ever seen duck through the door. I then realized I was out in the open, literally standing right where everyone could see me. So I darted back outside and made a dash across the training fields to the tree line.

   I had made it halfway across the fields when I was tackled to the ground. When I turned my head to see who it was, it was the same tall, surprisingly beautiful man. However I knew he was up to no good as they were trespassers. So I started fighting.

   I remember smacking him in the face, right in the nose so hard that I saw blood drip down his nose. I had kicked him in the crotch and stood up before she even realized I was fighting. I thought I could make it to the woods, but I kid you not less than a second after that he had stood up and chased me down.

   He made a more tactical advance the second time rather than blindly tackling me, as that wouldn't work for him. He had crushed his arms around my torso, bruising my ribs, his grip so strong that I had trouble gasping for air, yet I also felt butterflies in my stomach which I'd never admit to anyone.

   He pinned my arms down and hauled me back to the house, my feet dangling in the air. When he got back he whistled to his group of buddies, all of them rounding up like trained soldiers. This man holding me was the alpha. It had scared me at the moment, but now that I think about it he made no move to hurt me or make me submit, so he can't be that bad, right?

   My pack members had all been tranquilized when they made an attempt to get up, stop, or prevent me from being taken. None of their attempts worked, and I had been carried from my pack, sobbing, screaming, and kicking, much to my embarrassment.

   The car ride took hours, and I 'wasn't allowed to speak', which seemed ridiculously unfair. When we finally did reach this mansion of a pack house, I had the biggest shock of my life, making getting kidnapped look like a walk in the park. I was being forced in an arranged marriage!

   Can you believe that? Me, a socially awkward twat, supposed to marry the alpha? Why me? I was so mad. I was so mad that I had screamed in his face and told him to fuck off. He just laughed at me and brushed it off saying to his buddy, "I'll give her a week to be mad before I lay down the law. Take her to her room."