Fated Beyond Bloodlines

Safe in the Enemy's territory

Twyla's POV

"A farmhouse," he says confirming my thoughts. "Where you are safe."

I hum in reply and fold my body into a foetal position, my movements causing me to hiss in pain

as my muscles protest and the wounds on my leg scratch the brown and black sheets on the

bed which to my surprise looks and smells clean.

"Your wounds still hurt?" He lifts a brow in question and I try to shake my head when another

sound of pain escapes as his finger touches the gash above my ankle. "I take that as a yes."

"I can help you," he expresses as I stare at him in silence, my emotions a bit shaky as I feel a

jolt of electricity pulse in the spot he brushes with his thumb.

"It's fine," I immediately decline, my heart not agreeing with my words as the emotional and

physical pull becomes strong with each passing minute. "I really appreciate you for bringing me

here and keeping me safe, but I can't let you do more."

"There's no way I can leave you in this state," he grunts, my words causing a crack in his

expression as I notice his jaw clench, his eyes shutting for a minute.

I observe his fingers clench on his muscular thigh as he inhales sharply. His voice comes out

strained as he asks. "Are you one of them?"

"Am I one of who?" I query, my words drifting as I think about his question.

"I know you are a witch," he declares and my whole body freezes, my heart skipping as fear

washes over me. I sense the colour drain from my face and my hands which are wrapped

around my knees quiver.

"For me to help you in the best way I can, I need to know." His sharp gaze notices all these and

before I can respond, his lids narrow in suspicion as he goes on to ask. "Are you a member of

the corrupt coven of witches who have been stealing and hurting my kind?"

Many thoughts run through my head as I ponder on the answer to give. None seems suitable

enough and I gulp, deciding to just go ahead and speak.

"My name is Twyla," I introduce, forcing a smile to my lips despite my situation. "You are right

about me being a witch, however I am not a member or a part of any coven."

"I know you may find this hard to believe," I continue, making sure to stare into his blue irises in

an attempt to discern his emotions. "But I have been living my life in secret, hiding from rogue

wolves and the same corrupt coven you speak of."

"Yes I have heard of them," I admit. "Nonetheless I've survived this long on my own."

I see something flash in his gaze, rather it is too brief and disappears before I can capture it.

The only indication I didn't imagine it is when he blinks and clears his throat, coming off as

flustered.

"What happened then?" He implores, his vision returning to me as they roam my form, still clad

in my tattered shirt with my wounds.

"I was brewing a protection potion when it exploded," I sigh, shaking my head at the outcome. "I

must have messed up in between."

"You are lucky I found you and not someone else," he murmurs. "You are a witch who

trespassed into my pack's territory. If spotted, you would have been executed in an instant as

per my father's decree."

"This farmhouse is safe, and is located at the edge of the pack," he blurts as my eyes widen in

horror. "Therefore you must not wander off."

Having no choice, I nod my head in a sign of obedience and he graces me with that small smile

of his. In an instant, his expression changes as he inquires. "If you don't mind, can I see the

extent of your injuries? So I'll know how to help."

Blood rushes to my cheeks at his suggestion as shyness creeps up my neck at the thought of

this attractive man staring at me. Before I can overthink it, I slowly shuffle till my feet touch the

ground and push my weight into a standing position.

The sounds of our breathing the only noise in the small space as I grip the ends of the shirt I

have on, I drag it over my shoulder and hold it in my right hand, while my left palm brushes my

skin as I feel the heat of his gaze.

The temperature in the room suddenly hikes as if a switch is flipped and I feel goosebumps on

my skin. Moments pass and he doesn't speak. Just when I'm about to ask if all is right with him,

he lets ou a single word. "Fuck."

My gaze snaps from where it's directed at the floor to where he is, and observe his stare glued

to my form, his palms forming fists as his pupils dilate, desire swimming in them, his jaw

clenching.

"How can I help?" He asks, gulping, his attention shifting to my face, the intensity in them hitting

me hard that I almost stagger.

"I need a healing portion," I reveal, picking up my shirt and putting it on.

"I casted an extending charm which holds my portion ingredients, however the rest can be

collected from the woods."

"You can't wander off," he reminds, his tone serious, jaw still clenched. "If you trust me well

enough, you can describe the requirements and I'll get it."

I hesitate, wondering if it's the right thing to do. Nonetheless, if what he says is true, he's my

only string of help.

Do you?" He asks in regards to my silence.

"I do," I exhale, rubbing my palms on the material of my shirt, suddenly nervous. "Be careful of

mistakes, while picking them."

"Okay." He stands, shoving his hand into the pocket of his shorts. "I'm all ears."

I do just that and he listens attentively, a frown appearing on his face at some point while he

nods at the other. I wonder if he gets them all right until he repeats my exact words and I can't

help but smile at that.

He does same in return and exits the farmhouse, leaving me with strict orders not to step out.