Chapter Twenty One

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Annabelle's PoV

I had been tossing and turning all night, my mind just wouldn't stop thinking about everything Xavier had told us. About how I was a magic messenger that had some weird wolf connection to an ancient goddess that I had never even heard of a week ago. I just wish I knew someone who had the answers, who knew what was going on with me and could help me in some way. Someone like my Mother.

I genuinely believe that she too was a messenger of the moon goddess, why else would someone want to harm her and rip me away from my family?

I looked over to my left to see that Jax was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed, oblivious to the thoughts that were racing through my brain. We had kind of just kept the sleeping arrangements since the other night when I asked him to sleep next to me. We both stubborn and refused to let the other sleep on the sofa so why bother continuing the fight at all if we both knew the other wouldn't be giving in any time soon. I didn't have a major issue with it, sure it was a bit bizarre that I was allowing someone to sleep next to me when I could barely stand someone touching me not to long ago but what can I say, he made me feel safe. And safe was a feeling almost foreign to me thanks to all my years at the Leften's house.

I sighed and gave up trying to get back to sleep, I had already slept enough over the last 48 hours anyway so why was I even bothering trying to force my body to have more. I got up and made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen to get myself a cold glass of water. I still found it a bit bizarre sometimes that I was able to just go into the kitchen and help myself to anything that I wanted. I was so used to having to ask permission for years on end at the Leftens that I still catch myself beginning to ask Jax if I was allowed to do anything. You'd think I would have gotten used to it by now but sadly that little habbit was still engrained into my brain.

I sighed as the cold water soothed my dry throat, when was the last time I had anything to drink?

I filled the glass back up, intending to down my second pint of water when a sudden ear-splitting screech rang all around me and invaded my senses. It was a noise so intense that it made my eyes water and vision to blur.

I dropped the glass of water and covered my ears with my hands, hoping to somehow dull the sound down by even a little but nothing helped, if anything it just made the noise worse. I was aware of nothing; my undivided attention was on this painful ringing noise that seemed to increase with every passing second and just when I was about to give up hope... it stopped. My vision cleared and I could suddenly hear everything that was going on around me.

What was peculiar though was that I wasn't in Jax's kitchen anymore, in fact I wasn't even above ground. I was in some type of make shift cell block.

I took a few gulps of air to help calm my nervous heart and sweaty palms and just when I was happy that I was calm enough I heard a commotion from up ahead. Curiosity got the best of me as I slowly made my way over towards the voices. They were muffled at first but as I got closer, I managed recognised a male voice yelling. I couldn't quite work out what he was shouting or who he was shouting at but whoever it was I felt immensely sorry for them. I had been yelled at like that a lot over my childhood and it never got easier being on the receiving end of someone else's rage. Nine times out of ten you would always end up on the receiving end of someone's fist.

I inched forward, trying to get closer to the angry man until I could satisfied enough with the distance so that I could hear what he was yelling.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know!" The man yelled, I inched closer so that I could look around the corner and get a better look at what was going on. As I poked my head out from behind the moss covered stone wall I saw a man towering over a cowering figure as they crouched on the floor, hoping to make themselves as small and insignificant as possible. I knew that posture anywhere, it was the posture of someone who was expecting a blow at any moment, like me before I had ran for my life.

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