CHAPTER 1
1411 Words
ELINA’S POINT OF VIEW
I wince as I wipe the blood from my split lip and push myself up from the chilly hardwood floor. My eye swells so much it is difficult to see out of. Every breath burns; my ribs ache from the last blow.
"Please, no more, Dad," I whisper with a trembling voice. Mum would not want this. She wouldn't want you damaging me in this way."
His eyes grow black from wrath. "You ought to have given that some thought before killing your mother!"
His words hurt, the charge cutting more than any bruise could ever do. "Kindly, Dad! You are aware it was an accident. I meant for her not to die! My throat gets tight as I beg; desperation shakes my hands. Please, Dad. Sort of pardon me.
I think I see something change in his expression for a moment, but then he smiles—sharp and nasty.
"Oh, Elina, you're no daughter of mine," he says. You never were. Your mother informed me your actual father passed away before your birth. Still, I loved her so much that I was ready to pass for your father."
His comments really hit me more than any fist could have. Nothing! Not at all! Mum would never let me keep anything like that from her! My voice breaks as I yell.
"She didn't want you to find out until you were eighteen," he sneers. "She aimed for you to lead a regular life. She most likely intended to inform you about your actual father then. Too terrible you will never know who he is now! He laughs then, without warning, pushes his foot into my ribs.
My side bursts in a sharp, searing anguish. I yell, curling in on myself, hugging my ribs while hot tears run down my face.
He moves to the door, locking it behind him, isolating me in the stifling silence of my bedroom.
Pulling myself across the chilly floor, I make it to my bed and curl on my side. I feel the sharp stab of what is most certainly a break as I press my hand against my ribs. The betrayal is more painful than the unbearable suffering. How could the man who kissed my scraped knees and referred to me as his little girl—who had once held me close in front of the fire—turn into this monster?
I'm not sure how long I stay like that before fatigue draws me under.
Every inch of me hurt by morning. I get myself to sit up; my body rebels with every motion. Pulling my hoodie over my head to cover the bruises, I slide into my work uniform. I slink down the steps softly.
Dad remains unconscious, the scent of whiskey permeating his slumber. With the cool morning air stinging my swollen face, I slip outside and start walking to work.
Once again, the black Mercedes is lurking behind me at a distance.
I've been under surveillance for months now. Always the same car. constantly observing.
I pick up speed and veer off the road into the forest, following the longer path.
I force a smile as soon as I walk inside the diner. I smell fresh coffee and greet the familiar clang of dishes. Only one place seems somewhat safe.
From the grill, my manager, Matti, looks up. His jaw gets tight, and his clear blue eyes flutter to my face.
"Elina, right? You know you could come to me for help." Though his voice is consistent, there is an edge of something else under it. "If you're not safe, you don't have to go back home. Friends in a nearby town might be able to keep an eye on you.
I shake my head and start to smile slightly. "I am good. I just dropped down the steps.
Matti exhales strongly, darkening his eyes. "You said the same thing last time."
Though the lump in my throat makes it difficult, I try to keep my voice light. Well, my house is rather old. The stairs are rotting.
On my tongue, the lie tastes sour.
Matti makes no comments. Rather, he moves forward to firmly and cozily embrace me. First I stiffen, not used to compassion.
"Let me help you, Elina," he says quietly.
I draw back and shake my head. "You don't grasp. Your assistance is unacceptable."
"Why not?" His eyebrows darken.
I chew hard. This is due to my father's refusal to let me go easily. He would much sooner have me dead than let me go. And he will harm anyone who offers me assistance. Though I waver, I keep going. "He faults me for the death of my mother."
Matti's eyes darken still more, his hold on the counter tightening. "You are not deserving of this regardless of what happened. Something I can do must exist.
I let out a sour laugh. "There's nothing you can do unless you can change the past."
Silence hangs between us until he sighs at last. "I want you to stay here, Elina." He speaks with strength. "Seeing people treat our kind like this bothers me. Even in cases of rogues."
I freeze in shock. "A…what?"
Realizing what he just said, he blinks. "Forget it," he says in a whisper.
I get nearer, my gut turning. "What did you just say?"
Matti lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand down his face. "You don't know what you are?"
I fix my gaze at him. "The question doesn't make sense to me." Human is me. Each of us is human.
His lips form a thin line. "You cannot even sense the difference?"
I snigger. "The only thing I smell is the food burning in that pan."
"s**t! Matti curses and bolts to the stove to save the charring mess.
As we finish silently getting ready for the day, the tension in the air between us is heavy.
Finally, after some time, he speaks. "For what it is worth, whatever happened to your mother... she wouldn't want you blaming yourself."
I suck back the lump in my throat. "Stepfather," I say correctly.
The head of Matti leaps up. "Your step forward?"
I hum to myself. My actual dad passed away before I was born.
His face darkens. "I'm quite sorry."
I shrug. "Maybe it's a good thing he's not my real dad."
Matti gives a slow nod. "You suppose you could stay late tonight? Notable residents of Varjo Ridge are gathering for a conference.
"I need to call my dad, but since he receives more alcohol money, I'm confident he won't care."
A few minutes later, I ask Matti confirmatory questions. "It's okay. He says I could put in extra hours.
Matti lets out a relieving exhale. "Good...".
As I get ready for the meeting, hours later the air fills with the powerful roar of engines. Several cars dragging up outside cause the ground to vibrate.
The diner door opens to almost twenty men.
These are not your average men.
They are massive, muscular, and intimidating. Each of them dons a suit; their presence commands the space.
Then he arrives.
The atmosphere moves.
Standing tall. dark-haired. Her eyes are a striking shade of blue. Potent. Dangerous. Lovely.
The space circles him like his own gravity.
His keen eyes fix on me; his nose flares slightly as he inhales.
Matti hardly has time to talk before the man's voice breaks through the stillness.ss.
"What's that scent?" His deep voice carries something I cannot put in place.
He continues to fix himself on me.
"It smells like vanilla and... cookies."
Heart hammering, I duck behind the counter.
Matti sighs. "Elina will pick your orders if you men want drinks. But no one freaks out—especially you, Alpha Henrik—when I tell you she's a rogue."
quiet.
Then—then
"What?"
The whole diner trembles with his growl.
His fist rattles the dishes by slamming onto the table.
"Alpha Henrik, settle down," Matti says, his voice steady. She is simply a girl. She spent a year working here. She is not invading anyone's territory. She has not done anything illegal.
Henrik's sharp eye never veers from mine. His jaw closes, his whole body stiff.
Matti rises forward. "She stays out of this, Henrik."
Henrik's hands are curled into fists as his chest rises and falls sharply.
Then he speaks in a voice hardly above a whisper.
She is mine.
- Writer
