chapter 2 saving a stranger
1140 Words
Maya’s POV
The heat prickled on my skin first.
Then came the sound, sharp, cracking, alive.
I turned just in time to see the explosion bloom across the street.
Flames shot up like wildflowers, twisting orange and red against the night.
My breath caught.
The air smelled of burning metal and gasoline.
A car had slammed into a lamp post, smoke curling from its hood.
For a second, everything in me froze.
People screamed.
Someone shouted to call 911, but no one moved closer.
The fire roared louder, feeding off the wind.
Then I heard it, faint but clear…
A man’s voice. Somewhat like a groan.
He was still inside.
My heart lurched.
Every instinct screamed to run the other way, but something deeper rose beneath my skin.
My wolf. She stirred, restless, clawing at the surface, whispering, Go.
The scent of smoke filled my lungs, stinging my eyes.
My hands trembled. “No, no, no…” I whispered, but I was already moving.
I threw my bag aside, sprinting toward the fire.
The closer I got, the hotter it became, until the air itself seemed to burn.
The car’s front was completely crushed, flames licking up the shattered glass.
I could barely see through the haze, but then…through the cracked window, I caught sight of him.
A man. Head slumped against the steering wheel, motionless.
“Hey!” I shouted, coughing as smoke scraped down my throat. “Can you hear me?”
No answer.
I hesitated only for a second before the wolf inside me pushed harder, and I let her take over.
My vision sharpened, senses flaring. The heat scorched my skin, but I didn’t stop.
I yanked on the driver’s door. It wouldn’t budge.
The metal was too hot, but I wrapped my sleeve around my hand and pulled again. Nothing.
“Come on!” I growled, slamming my shoulder into the frame. The glass shattered. Shards cut my arm, but adrenaline drowned out the pain. I reached through, grabbed his jacket, and shook him. “Wake up! Please!”
Still nothing.
He was tall from this angle, broad-shouldered, dressed in black, a faint glint of something gold on his wrist. His skin was slick with sweat, and for a second, I thought he was dead. Then his lips parted in a shallow gasp.
He was alive.
“Okay… okay, I got you,” I breathed, my voice trembling.
The seatbelt was jammed. I tugged and twisted until it finally tore free, then hooked my arms under his and pulled. My muscles screamed, smoke clawed down my throat, but I didn’t stop.
I dragged him halfway out of the car before my knees buckled, both of us hitting the ground hard.
The heat behind us surged, roaring like a beast unleashed.
I coughed violently, blinking through the tears and smoke. “Stay with me,” I whispered, shaking him again. “You’re not dying here.”
His pulse fluttered weakly beneath my fingers.
He groaned, eyes barely opening. For just a heartbeat, his gaze found mine, stormy gray, distant, pained.
Something inside me shifted.
The air around us thinned, and a strange calm swept over me. The fire didn’t feel as hot. The noise didn’t feel as loud.
And his breathing…ragged moments ago, slowed down.
I didn’t understand it, but it felt… connected. Like the fire was burning for both of us, and suddenly, it wasn’t as strong.
Then his body went limp again.
“Hey!” I shook him harder. “Don’t…don’t you dare…”
He didn’t move.
Panic clawed up my throat. I looked around wildly. There were people standing farther off, phones in their hands, but no one coming closer.
“Help me!” I screamed. “Someone help!”
No one did.
So I did what I had to. I dragged him up, one arm over my shoulder, stumbling toward the curb.
A taxi slowed when it saw us, thank God, and I half-yelled, half-begged the driver to open the door.
“Hospital!” I gasped. “Please!”
The driver hesitated, staring at the unconscious man bleeding all over his seat, but one look at my face must’ve been enough. He drove.
The city blurred past in streaks of gold and red. I pressed a napkin to the wound on his forehead, my hands shaking. His breathing stayed shallow, too still.
My eyes drifted to the faint crescent mark on my wrist, the one I’d had since I was a child.
It was glowing… softly, pulsing with warmth for the first time ever. My breath caught.
What the hell…?
The glow deepened, and his breathing slowed, steadier than before.
“Don’t die,” I whispered. “Not after that.”
The driver glanced back. “Who is he?”
I swallowed. “I…I don’t know.”
It hit me then. I didn’t even know his name. But it really didn’t matter. I just hoped he survived that inferno.
When we reached the hospital, I shouted for help before the taxi even stopped. Nurses rushed out with a gurney, taking him from my arms. I followed until someone stopped me, blocking the way.
“Miss, are you family?”
“No, I…” I shook my head. “I just found him. His car crashed, there was fire…”
“Then please wait outside.”
I stood there, watching as they wheeled him down the hall, the doors swinging shut behind them.
My lungs ached from smoke, my clothes smelled of ash, and my hands were red from burns. I didn’t even notice the tears until they hit my collar.
What was I even doing?
My shift had ended less than an hour ago. I’d spent the whole night at the restaurant wiping tables, counting tips that wouldn’t even cover half of Mom’s medicine. I’d promised myself I’d go straight home. Rest. Try not to worry.
But here I was, in a hospital hallway, covered in soot, because something in me couldn’t let a stranger die.
I wrapped my arms around myself and turned toward the door.
I needed to leave before anyone asked questions I couldn’t answer.
He’ll be fine. I whispered to myself.
But something tugged at me, soft but persistent, the memory of his eyes opening for that brief second, the pain buried inside them.
I didn’t know him, yet it felt like I did.
Like some invisible thread tied me to that man in the fire, pulling me back even as I walked away.
As I stepped into the cold night air, my chest tightened. The sirens had stopped. The city had gone quiet, like it was holding its breath.
I took one last look back at the hospital entrance.
The doors burst open. Someone shouted from behind me, sharp, desperate, breaking through the silence.
“Damon!”
- Writer
