The feel of his tongue against my lips is all it takes for me to snap out of my stupor. Catching him unaware, I shove myself out of his grip and slap him with all the strength I can muster.
There is absolutely no way I will allow myself to be seduced by a dog. I rub my hand over my lips, trying to erase his touch from my skin. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I step back, and he opens his mouth to respond. "Actually, don't bother. I need to get out of here."
My legs feel wobbly as I stumble back, and a part of me, a very, very small part of me, feels a sense of loss at the distance. I pull my backpack off and clutch it in front of me like a shield when he steps forward. My defense only seems to amuse him though and in another step he has invaded my personal bubble and once more wrapped a large hand around my bicep.
"Don't touch me," I bite out, attempting to yank my arm out of his grip.
His eyes have returned to their normal colour and he smiles. For a brief moment, I think that maybe he's actually going to let me leave.
Instead his grip tightens and he begins to drag me down the road. I fight against him, pulling away with all my might but I barely even slow him down. "Let me go!" I scream, staring down the road where the few people still meandering around refuse to make eye contact with me, "Somebody help me, please! Let me go you stupid prick!" I dig the heels of my sneakers into the pavement and gasp as he yanks on my arm. I go flying into his side, knocking my head into the hard muscles of his abdomen and wrapping my free arm around his waist to catch myself.
I can feel the strong muscle of his back against my fingers and his heart beat echoes fast and strong in my ears. I shove myself back, catching the amused look spread across his face and consider crossing my arms across my chest and stomping my foot like a child.
But before I can act on the thought, he's resumed dragging me. We stop by a car, a pale blue clunker the size of a jeep that looks even older than I am. He opens the door and shoves me in, buckling my seatbelt for me. I gape at him and he pauses, still leaned over me, and gives me a breathtaking grin.
The moment he shuts the door, I panic, undoing my seatbelt and reaching for the handle. Before I can scurry out, however, my abductor is in the car and we're speeding down the road. "How did you-" I stop myself, scowling. "Never mind."
There isn't much for me to do, so I cross my arms and glare out the window. Beside me, my captor lets out a loud chuckle. I try not to, but I can't help but glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
He seems focused on the winding gravel road, but occasionally his free hand twitches in my direction. I press myself closer to the door.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath before blinking them open, "Where are you taking me?"
His eyes don't even shift from the road as he responds, "Home." His voice is a normal baritone now, soft and oddly soothing.
"Excuse me?"
"I said," he emphasizes, "I'm taking you home."
My anger deepens at his tone, but I do my best to shake it off. There's a chance he doesn't know who—what—I am, but I have to keep my cool if I don't want to give myself away. "Why?" I pause, before spitting out bitterly, "My home is in the opposite direction."
His hands clench around the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and the muscles in his arms seem to ripple. I push myself back against the door, only just realizing I had started to relax.
"That is no longer your home." His voice has gone back to the deep, guttural sound from earlier and his jaw clenches.
I blink, not really anticipating nor appreciating his answer. I decide to try again, "Who are you?"
"My name is Tiberius."
Like the emperor?
His voice still hasn't reverted back to normal, and I debate asking another question. On the one hand, he could decide to throw caution to the wind and attack me while I'm still trapped in his car, on the other hand he doesn't seem to know who I am—if he does attack I might be able to take him by surprise.
My hand wraps tightly around the lighter in my pocket and I take a deep breath as we begin to slow. A massive cottage looms ahead of us, surrounded by trees and snow covered mountains. I consider jumping out of the car while it's still moving, but it's too risky. Head start or not, he's still faster than me. And the likelihood of another asthma attack after last night is too high.
Instead, I sit patiently as he stops the car, before opening the door and jumping out. I take a deep breath and my pulse seems to slow as I put space between us. I stay near the car, knowing he fully expects me to run, and I'm unsurprised when he's suddenly in front of me, gripping my arm as he drags me to the log house.
He drags me up the stairs of the front porch and through a large cherry wood door. Tiberius slams it shut, not bothering to lock it, and drags me through a large foyer into the kitchen. He pulls out a chair with his free hand and sends me flying back into it.
I lean back, figuring that if he sat me down he isn't planning to let me up any time soon, and take in his expression. His pupils are dilated and his jaw is clenched—typically a bad sign—but the rest of him appears remarkably relaxed.
"So," I start, trying to put up a confident front. "Why am I here?"
"You belong here."
I frown, "Excuse me?" Tiberius just stares intensely at my face, as though he's trying to paint a portrait of me in his mind. It's unsettling. I start again, beginning to feel the panic resurface, "What's going on?"
Tiberius finally looks away from me, locking his gaze on something above my head. He runs a hand down his face, and a wry sort of smile spreads across his face. He shakes his head, "You're so..." He smiles slightly, seemingly talking to himself.
"Why am I here?" I repeat, perturbed.
He doesn't seem to notice. "Maybe it'll be easier if I just-" he sucks in a deep breath and his pupils dilate once more. His eyes gain their familiar feral glare, and his fingers grow short and beefy, claws extending where there were once nails. His canines elongate, finishing off the monstrous look.
Tiberius steps closer, locking me against the chair before I have even the chance to escape. My heartbeat echoes in my ears and my breathing is harsh. He inhales deeply, shoving his face into the crook of my neck. I freeze, before looking around the room with a growing sense of panic as I feel his sharp incisors against the flesh of my neck.
My eyes lock on the light in the middle of the room and my free hand—the one that isn't shoving viciously against his chest—clenches around the lighter. I focus on the bulb, narrowing my eyes and mentally shoving all the energy I've got toward it.
The light bulbs explode the moment his teeth begin to press into my neck, shattering above our heads and raining glass down on us. He jerks back, covering me with his back and whipping his head from side to side.
I shove him, putting all my strength into the blow and he stumbles just far enough away for me slide out of the chair and across the room.
He stares at me, taking a step forward for every step I take back, his features still haven't returned to normal. "Stop," I say, pausing to clear my throat when my voice cracks. "Or I'll light this place up like a match." I glance around, pointedly staring at the rustic wooden walls.
I don't have the power to do that, I barely even had the power to blow up the light bulb, but I school my features into my, hopefully, most intimidating expression. I pull the lighter out of my pocket and flick it, guiding the flame away from it with the palm of my other hand and holding it in front of him as it grows into a fist sized fireball, "don't test me."
It would be nice if I had mastered the art of creating fire from nothing, not just bending it, but for now, I'll have to take what I can get and hope it works. In front of me, Tiberius is wide eyed. But I doubt it'll take long for the shock to wear off—and when it does I'll need more than parlour tricks to back me up.
His eyes darken, pupils dilating, and his claws seem to grow somehow longer and sharper—I haven't even had a chance to run and he's already snapping out of it. "Let me leave," I tell him slowly, forcing my voice to remain steady, "or I will blow this place up." As if on cue, the flame in my hand flares up before flickering back to its original size.
"No." The word is brutish and short, a growl, as he yanks me against his chest. The fire dancing above my palm flickers out in my surprise and I panic, hitting and shoving against his chest with all the might I can muster. My lighter falls from my hand and clatters onto the floor.
He grips me tightly as I shove against him, searching for a way out. My hands are pressing against his stomach when I feel his hot breath on my neck. The tips of his incisors dig gently into the side of my neck and I panic. Fear bubbles up in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing against him with all of my might.
His arms fall away and in an instant my eyes are open and Tiberius is several feet away, hunched over and looking pained. When he straightens up there are two dark red handprints burned into his stomach, and the shirt around them has been singed to charred little pieces.
I stare down at my hands a moment, shocked and a little appalled, before thrusting them out in front of me. "Stay back! Touch me one more time and I'll..." I trail off, wondering just how exactly I'll ever be able to do that again.
Tiberius puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender, taking a step toward me. I take one back, feeling suddenly drained. It's moments like these that I wish I possessed Charlie's stamina.
I can feel my heart rate slow and the dizziness flood in as I stumble back another step. I back against the wall and slump on to it, sighing in relief as my head slows its spinning, but stiffening when I notice how close Tiberius has gotten.
"Stay back," I whisper. "Don't touch me."
His eyes are green again and when he raises a hand toward my cheek there are neatly trimmed fingernails where there once were claws. I move my head away slowly, trying not to provoke him anymore than I already have.
I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for something to happen and trying not to panic. My fear seems to hang in the air between us, slowing things down and leaving me with a moment to breathe. But too soon I feel the warmth of his hand against my face and my eyes flutter open.
His green orbs stare deeply into my soul and I can't seem to look away. The intensity of his stare is unnerving, but somehow, I find myself uncaring when I notice he's slowly moving toward me.
The illusion is broken when someone clears their throat loudly from behind us. I gasp, pushing myself back against the wall and far from Tiberius as he whirls around, eyes turned feral and crouching defensively in front of me.
Standing on the far side of the kitchen, next to the chair Tiberius shoved me on to when we first entered, is my dark haired cousin. When Jon sees me behind Tiberius, his jaw falls slack. "What on earth are you doing here, Clara?"
"What on earth am I doing here? What on earth are you doing here, Jon!" What does my cousin have to do with any of this?
I attempt to shove my way around Tiberius, but a menacing growl rips from his chest and his hand latches on to my arm, holding me in place as he looks back to my cousin, more animal than human.
"Let go me you stupid brute!" I yank weakly against his hold, still waiting to regain my strength, and glare down at his hand as he tightens his grip.
Jon takes a step closer, raising his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "It's okay, it's just me. I'm not going to hurt her, she's my baby cousin. I think you should let her go now." A mean growl rips out of Tiberius's chest and his grip tightens painfully on my arm.
Taking a different method, Jon's soothing voice comes out sternly, "You're hurting Clara. You need to let her go. It's alright. She's safe now."
Tiberius's grip loosens enough for me to tug away from him and I stumble over to the counter, leaning back against it and turning to face Jon. Jon, who hasn't panicked or even questioned Tiberius's transformation from human to beast.
When Jon takes a step toward me I raise my palm, stopping him mid-step. "What are you Jon?" I narrow my eyes, hating the question I'm about to ask, "You aren't—you're not... you're not—like him," I jerk my head to a significantly calmer Tiberius, "are you?"
Neither of them responds and my head begins to feel dizzy as my knees give out and I collapse in a heap on the floor. In an instant both men are hovering over me; asking me questions that I can't hear and prodding me to stand. I can't think, can't consider; I want nothing more than to wake up lost in the woods, so I can run far, far away from this nightmare. "No." It's the only word that I can force out of my lips. "No, no, no."
My emotions are a mess as I crawl across the floor to get away from them. What would Charlie do? What would she do?
I use the table to leverage myself up and grip it tightly as I turn to face the two men—beasts. "I'm leaving," I tell them, ignoring the angry sound that Tiberius is making. "I will not be back to Aunt Flora's. I am going to find a place in town to spend the night and if either of you so much as get in my way, you will regret it." My voice comes out strong and firm, the exact opposite of how I feel, and I make myself turn in the direction of the foyer.
Two thick arms wrap around my torso and hold me in place while Jon watches. "Don't you want to know why I took you here?" Tiberius speaks softly, rubbing gentle circles on my arms with his thumb.
I don't answer him, but nor do I move to escape.
He takes that as an invitation, and I can feel his hot breath on my ear as he begins to whisper. "You're my mate, little one. You are everything I have been waiting for and you were made to be loved by me." His soft voice makes my toes curl, but the words he's saying make me want to vomit. "You're my other half. And if you think I'm going to let you leave here, you're wrong."
I struggle in his hold until he lets me go and I back away from him.
"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you keep me here. I know exactly what you are," I say. "And that was a load of bull." I turn to Jon, "And as for you, well, I guess I really never knew you or Flora as well as I thought. Don't worry, I will never bother either of you again."
My mind is reeling as I stumble out of the kitchen, and through the foyer to the door. A large hand latches around my bicep for what must be the tenth time today and I am pulled gently to a stand still.
To my surprise, it's Jon who has latched onto my arm while Tiberius stands just a few feet away, his eyes flickering from black to their natural green as he and Jon stare intently at each other. Jon looks away from him and forces a smile, "You're going to come home with me."
"I'm not going anywhere with you ever again," I bite out, furious.
Jon's own hazel eyes flicker darkly for a moment and I flinch back. Where was the sweet teenage boy that used to babysit Charlie and me?
"You will come home with me," Jon tells me, "or you'll stay here with him. It's your choice, Clara."