30,000 feet above sea
1146 Words
SLOANE
My mind raced with different thoughts as I tucked into the seat, and fastened my seatbelt. My body vibrated with an poison, and half the time I felt like throwing up.
I couldn’t bring myself to sleep through the seven hour flight. One minute I thought I’d make an ideal wife for Nicolas, the next minute I was whisked into a plan that’s headed for some world that doesn’t exist in real life.
I sighed.
Perhaps, Camille wanted to get rid of me, and this was her chance. My heart raced back to my first day at the university. I’d bumped into Nicolas in the most awkward way. Our eyes locked, and he offered me a smile.
My heart still knew that faint familiar thump. Thump. Thump. The first time he said, “you’re beautiful…”
Still, He didn’t think twice before throwing all the memories we shared down the drain. Ugh! I thought Nicolas would be an exception to the cliché representation about men. It turned out he was even worse.
I groaned, when a familiar pain cut through my chest. I clutched hard against the area, and tried to suppress the pain. My chest ached, I was out of breath.
Another squeal escaped my lips, as the plane took off. Damn! That was so sudden. I clutched my hands against the armrest.
A scoff. “I’m used to people doing stuff to catch my attention, but stabbing me with their nails had never been a thing,” Smooth silvery voice reached my ears from the seat next to mine.
Steady. Commanding. And the kind that made knees buckled.
I whipped my head sideways, and another gasp brushed out of my lips, trashing out my earlier fear of the plane ascending to air.
Black tousled hair. A side profile that made me wonder if he was real or some image right out of a magazine. The stranger turned to face me, and my jaw grazed the floor.
Full eyebrows, that furrowed into a perfect pair of emerald green eyes. The slant curve on his pointed nose. A good amount of well trimmed beards, that looked like they were maintained with my entire networth. And…and my goodness! Well defined lips.
For a fleeting moment, I forgot everything about the ache in my chest, and Nicolas. I’d seen handsome men in my lifetime. Nicolas was handsome in a conventional way. But he didn’t come close to the masterpiece a few inches away from me.
This man wasn’t handsome. He was beautiful. Scratch that, there was no word for him, yet.
His aura gave me warmth, and chills. My body temperature fluctuated between hot and cold in three seconds, as his scent wafted into my nose, and dripped into my bloodstream.
I’d never seen this man in all my life. Why the hell did he seem so familiar?
He smirked. “I knew I asked Santa for weird stuff, but someone drilling holes in every part of my body isn’t at the top of that list,” The amusement on his face, betrayed the iciness in his tone.
My cheeks turned red. The stranger looked down at my hand. “Take your hands off me,”
I quickly snagged my hands off. Scratch being ditched by my boyfriend. This was far worse.
I only wished the ground would open and swallow me at this point. I leaned against the chair, and clamped my eyes shut. I couldn’t bear the embarrassment of facing him till the plane descended.
I had the dream again. The mystery man claiming every inch of my body. It was steamy. Almost like it was happening in real life.
I opened my eyes, my entire body ached like logs of woods were shoved into it. Almost immediately, our plane landed at the airport. I clasped my hands to myself, and clamped my eyes shut.
A snicker reached my ears. “At least, someone isn’t trying to peel my skin off, the second time,”
He said, and pushed himself up, and walked away.
I quickly brushed his statement off. I had pressing matters to attend to. Finding a taxi was easy. Aragon pack was even more beautiful than I imagined.
I couldn’t keep my surprise to myself as the car drove.
Aragon was beautiful.
The streets were covered with snow, and people dressed in winter jackets and scarves to keep them warm.
Bright golden streetlights, and huge restaurants, dubbed with huge red ribbons hung against their doors, added to the spirit of the holiday season.
New York was beautiful during Christmas. However, this was different.
“Yes,”‘ The chauffeur said, startling me out of my deep thoughts.
I flinched . “What?”
The middle aged driver stared at me through the rear mirror. “Yes, this is Aragon pack, and it’s filled with werewolves,”
He brought the car to a halt in front of a golden gate. “Here we are, welcome to Aragon pack house, Miss Sloane Sinclair,” the old man said, turning to face me.
A pinch shot through my spine. “How’d you know who
I am?” My eyes narrowed with speculation.
The corner of his eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “You have more important stuff to be worried about, Sloane,” he started. “Your father always talked about you at every given chance. I’m sure you’ll get to find out that when you settle in properly,”
My face lit up. “You know my father?”
He groaned. “Everyone knows Beta Sinclair,” the old man paused. “You look exactly how you look in pictures. Now, a lawyer,”
I nodded. This was getting even more awkward than I imagined.
The smile on his face faded away, “This is the pack house. Advice, don’t refuse help from anybody. I hope the moon goddess helps you,”
“Okay…” I muttered. That was all I could bring myself to say.
I stepped down and headed into the gate. I couldn’t keep back the gasps that spilled from the corner of my lips. Ashford's chateau was large. But the edifice in front of me, it was a magic to behold.
Snowflakes fluttered all over the place. It was two weeks to Christmas, but this mansion was lavishly decorated for the season.
A small shiver coursed through my spine, as I slipped into my jacket, and dug out my phone from my bag to dial my father’s number.
It didn’t connect.
“Are you Sloane Sinclair?” I jerked at the sound of a creepy masculine voice. They were twice as huge as any man I’d ever set eyes on. They had the gait of warriors, and an unnerving aura that set them apart.
I nodded.
“The Lycan king demands your presence at his chambers, right away,”
- Writer
