Now many things were running through my mind at this moment. The first was focusing on how much I wanted to murder my best friend right now. Thanks to her big mouth, Vincent now knows all about my plan to run away from him. Although, at the same time I’m relieved that he doesn’t know that it was to Florida, so if I ever do manage to escape, he won’t think about searching there.
The second thing was how I was going to escape now. There’s no doubt in my mind that Vincent’s possessive instincts will be in full-drive now. I read about that in our werewolf class at school. Whenever a wolf’s mate –they’re always human in these scenarios- expresses a desire to leave, the wolf mentally snaps and does everything in their power to keep their mate by their side, even if force is necessary.
Lastly, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Vincent’s tightening grip on my waist with his strong arms. Yep, he’s snapped, having his animalistic instincts overcome his brain. If I thought that he was possessive earlier, I’m in a world of hurt now.
Jessie stood in front of us, mouth hanging open in shock. “I-I d-d-didn’t know!” she sputtered. She put her hands up in defense and then ran off. So first she causes Vincent to go all apeshit on me, and now she leaves me?
I hate you Jessie!
Vincent still growled in my ear, keeping me trapped to his body. “I think it’s time for us to go home,” he growled. I could hear his voice was strained, trying to keep himself from yelling.
He didn’t let go of me, but instead began to walk into the house, pushing me in front of him, still with his vicegrip on me. We dripped water onto the carpet, but Reed kept his mouth shut when he looked at us. I still haven’t seen Vincent’s face, but I’m fairly sure that it’s something even the devil would be afraid of.
I was ushered over to the truck and Vincent opened the passenger door for me. I didn’t use my own legs to get in; Vincent literally shoved me inside, slamming the door hard right behind me. Not wanting to get into any more trouble, I sat up and put my seatbelt on.
Vincent got in on the driver side. As soon as he had his door shut, he snarled at me. Go figure: I was right. He was terrifying. He bared his teeth at me, not like I’ve seen before, but really showing them off. His canines were on full-display, gleaming with the power they had. His eyes were bright yellow and narrowed at me, looking over me, calculating my every move.
Vincent leaned over and unclicked my seatbelt. Before I could say anything, he pulled me closer to his body, then wrapping his seatbelt around the both of us. His right arm was securely fastened around me the whole time as he began to drive, using only his left for the steering wheel.
His breathing was hard and controlled and every now and then I’d hear him growl. He’d glance down at me and tightened his hold, letting out another low growl.
“I’m only going to say this once Mate,” he snarled. “You belong to me.” After that he was silent, leaving only the rumble of engine between us. I noticed that his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, he was gripping it so hard.
I looked out the passenger side window, too afraid to start my own conversation. A part of me shouted to apologize, only to make him happy and have him quit this whole creepy façade.
“Where were you gonna go anyway?” Vincent snarled. “I’m all you have! Your parents kicked you out! I’m your only family now! Seriously, though? Where?”
I couldn’t tell him Florida. “Iceland,” I lied.
Vincent’s chest vibrated with the deep growl he let out. I realized that he left his shirt at Danni’s house. I also seemed to notice that he looked bigger, like his muscles grew or something.
“You know Reykjavík is actually a territory where both werewolves and vampires live?” he growled. “You like vampires more than me or something?”
Right now I totally do. He seemed to be confrontational with this question, ready to fight me if I answered it wrong. His arms strained, fighting to keep control.
“I’ve never met a vampire,” I said.
Vincent didn’t respond. We pulled up in front of his house and he pulled me out of the truck, keeping a tight grip on my arm as he led me up the walkway. The legend of Lacey, the girl who was attacked by her pissed off werewolf mate, flashed in my mind. He’s going to kill me!
Vincent’s going to take me inside the house where he’ll kill me! The whole up the walkway he wouldn’t look at me, but instead had his hand tightly coiled around my wrist, totally bruising it. My heart sped up and I started to wheeze. I can’t go into this house. If there’s one thing in life I should never do, it’s never go into a psychotic werewolf’s house.
Vincent stopped in front of the door and let go of me to turn the key into the lock. And that was all I needed.
I turned on my barefoot heels, scrapping them up a little bit. Then I pushed forward, springing out my legs to propel me. I pumped my arms to help quicken my pace, and before I knew it: I was running away from Vincent…literally!
I made it down the walkway and onto the sidewalk when I heard a ferocious snarl. Because I’m so smart, I decided to look back and see what made that noise. Where Vincent had stood was now a werewolf in its animal form. Unlike what TV has shown, werewolves don’t turn into actual wolves. Instead their human form gets larger and significantly hairier. Their head certainly turns into a wolf’s head and they sprout a tail, but that’s about it. Their ankles rise higher on their legs, but they stay bipedal. They do run faster on all fours though. Obviously their claws grow on their hands and feet.
Usually werewolves wolf-out when they get really pissed at something. Another time is when their mate is in danger and they need to eliminate the threat.
Vincent must have grown two feet taller in his wolf form. His fur was midnight black, probably darker than the hair on his head while he’s in his human form. His yellow eyes were still trained on me and he bared his teeth, snarling in my direction again. Man, I pissed this wolf off.
Now logic dictates that I immediately go to his side. However, excuse me for thinking that going towards a full-blown werewolf is a bad idea.
Instead I opened my mouth and screamed like bloody murder, running as fast as my legs would carry me in the other direction. I probably made it about two feet before Vincent caught me. I felt his big hairy arms wrap around me. Everything was a blur.
I saw the street where I was running, then the sky, then Vincent’s wolf-head, and then the inside of the house. I was kicking and screaming the entire way, even yelling for help. Yet no one came to help me from the monster that pulled me into its house! I hate the people here.
Wolf-Vincent carried me upstairs, swinging me over his shoulder. He walked into his bedroom and literally threw me onto the bed. I tried to get up and maybe jump out of the window, but he pounced on me, pinning me down onto the bed underneath his immense form.
“Mine!” he snarled, licking the side of my face.
We laid there for a while, in the position he had told me about the other night. This was the one where the werewolf trapped the mate to him, pinning them under their weight. Vincent shifted back into his human form, the weight decreasing a little on me.
“Why’d you run?” he demanded.
Isn’t it obvious? “Because!” I shouted, pushing on his chest with all my might. Surprisingly, he moved off me. I stood up off the bed and turned to face him, my own face red with anger.
“I HATE YOU!” I screamed.
Vincent flinched. He struggled to keep his composure, but I could tell my words poisoned him. But I was glad. He chased me in his wolf-form and dragged me away from my life.
“Well that’s too bad,” he whispered. “I’m not letting you go.” With that he walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I heard what sounded like him sitting on the floor, his back resting on the door.
He’s really not letting me go.