BOOK ONE - promised series
When a new family moves to Everett Valley, Catherine vows to find out what they are searching for in her secluded hometown that doesn't normally welcome new people.
Catherine must choose between the council and her pack le...
Though hurt cut through me at his ignorance of my presence, my body was completely controlled by the bond rather than myself.
My legs moved. Following the interest, there was a needy attraction that only intensified the ignited fire within me, causing it to go up in the highest flames. It tingled through me, making my knees wobbly.
It soon got overruled by my instincts; worry and confusion built up and formed a wall, trying to keep all those stormy emotions at bay.
As I was standing here, shaking from head to toe as if someone had thrown an ice-cold bucket of water on top of me, or as if the biggest war raged inside me, the man slowly turned around.
Finally, finally he noticed me.
I had been so caught up in this hurricane that I hadn't realised he shook just as bad as I did. The leaves of the trees whirled around all over the place, as though it was being controlled by someone, leading and dominating the laws of physics, bending wind, air and earth.
Even the ground beneath my shaking feet felt like it was moving. Before I could see his face, my vision blurred. Quickly, my eyesight left me again.
Then, crashing down on me, darkness filled my vision. Losing my balance, I fell onto the soft, forest floor.
☼
A sweet, honey-tasting smell entered my sensitive nostrils once I finally regained consciousness again. I had never smelled something so good before. I wanted to eat it.
What is that?
Placing my weight on my elbows, I tried to make out my surroundings.
I jolted awake and calmed myself down enough not to break out in a panic attack.
"Where am I?" I spurted, confusedly opening my eyes.
I was in a room which was completely covered in one horrible colour: everything was pink. It painfully reminded me of Kendra's room.
Even the window-seals were a soft baby pink, the curtains, the wooden chairs that stood around a little pink coffee table, the vintage dresser placed beside the window, the tapestry, everything.
Before I dared to move out of the surprisingly also rose-coloured bed, I stopped to listen. It seemed like the walls were soundproof, I couldn't hear any birds chirping. There was not a sound I could hear. Realising this made me uneasy.
What was I doing in a pink-splattered room with soundproof walls?
I scanned the room more closely, trying to memorise every detail to figure out if there was anything out of place. The picture of a little kitten hung evenly over the coffee table, the cat's eyes staring right back at me.
Even the desk at the opposite end of this square room was symmetrically placed directly in front of the bed I was lying in.
I could not, for the life of me, find a single thing out of place.
But when I saw the pencils on the desk perfectly placed just one or one and a half centimetres from the edge of the desk, I knew. This wasn't a real room that actually belonged to someone. Unless it was the biggest nitpicker-freak that existed and had a ghastly taste in furniture and colours.
It would be the last person in Espheros I would ever want to meet.
But my gut couldn't untie its knot as I thought about where I could be. As perfect as this bedroom seemed, it was too perfect to be one that was used. This room must have had the purpose of either decoration or some kind of confinement. But that didn't answer the question—why would I be in confinement to begin with?
What had I done? I tried to concentrate on recollecting my memories; what was the last thing I remembered? It took me a few moments until it finally dawned on me.
That guy.
In the forest.
I remembered how his hair shone like golden thread in the sun—his broad shoulders, the incredibly muscular back. And that pull towards him. That unearthly, strange and immense pull.
My hand hovered above the doorknob while the memories flooded through my mind. Before I could push it down, it already moved on its own.
And then a very familiar face stepped into the room as I took a startled few steps back.
Oh god.
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Chapter Question: Who's behind the door?
Reader Question: Do you write books too? If yes, what are they about?
Aside from The Promised Series I wrote a stand-alone in the same series titled "Fragments" which is available to read on Watty at the moment. I wrote a few others too, but nothing worth mentioning yet
