Refuge and Danger
1300 Words
Alina´s POV
I thought my attitude wasn't the most rational in the world. But what else could I have done? The girl outside couldn't stay, that was for sure. So I brought her home. I gave her a bath, put some of my clothes on her and waited for her to say something.
But she didn't.
She just watches me, following my every step through the house. Her eyes, big and deep, are always fixed on me, as if I were the only anchor keeping her connected to reality. She ate while looking at me. And when she went into the bathroom, she didn't allow me to come out, as if she was afraid of being alone. So I waited with my head down for her to shower, but I didn't need to see much to realize that her body was telling a story that her mouth refused to narrate.
The scars across her back denoted merciless whippings. His scarred wrists and ankles indicated that he was tied up. Her scraped elbows and arms, covered in bruises, said that she had fought. As if she had been dragged, thrown, trapped. As if she had escaped from captivity.
But there's no point in asking. She doesn't answer. She just cries silently, sometimes sobs, and then throws herself at me, seeking refuge, as if I were some kind of deity who had saved her from perdition.
Now, after cleaning up, I realize that she's a young woman, maybe in her twenties, a little shorter than me, very thin, with curly black hair down to her shoulders and big, frightened black eyes.
Why do I feel this way? Why does something inside me force me to protect her?
I put her to bed, but she couldn't sleep. Now she's curled up on the sofa and I'm hugging her, stroking her hair. She seems to find peace in this gesture. And, curiously, so do I. As if there was something in her that spoke to me on a deeper, more primal level.
This is insane.
My wolf, Alid, mutters inside my mind.
“Maybe the right thing to do would be to call the police.”
“Maybe you should have a bit more empathy.” I reply, exasperated. “She's hurt, visibly hurt. Anyone with eyes can see that she's been through something terrible.”
“That's dangerous, Alina.” Alid insists. “She could be anyone. An assassin, a decoy. You should throw her out.”
“Stop it! There's no way I'm kicking her out. She asked me for help, and I'm going to help her. You, as my wolf, my equal, should support me.”
“I'm your equal, but I'm not blind. You don't even know where she came from. She hasn't said a word! What if she's being sought? What if there's someone else out there? There are other ways to help without taking any risks”
“'They', who?” I ask, irritated. “If there was someone out there, I would have felt it by now.”
“You never know.”
“Look, Alid, thank you very much for your consideration, but at the moment I don't need it.”
I push her to the back of my mind, feeling the slight discomfort that always comes when I do that. My she-wolf should understand me. She should support me. But lately, we seem to be in constant conflict. Maybe I need to talk to Samia about this.
If only Samia would answer my messages. She hasn't replied since we got back.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door.
The girl on my lap cringes, fear showing on her face.
- Calm down,” I whisper, smoothing her hair. - I'm going to see who it is.
I walk to the door, feeling my heart racing.
- “Wow,” I mutter to myself, “can't you think about life in peace in this country anymore?
I open the door and see Alfa Marco. He doesn't look happy.
- “I thought we had dinner at eight o'clock,” he says, crossing his arms. - It's already eight o'clock and one minute, and you're late.
His tone is sarcastic, but his eyes shine with something deeper, something dangerous.
- I thought that since I didn't answer, it would be implied that I wasn't interested. - My voice is just as sarcastic.
- You'd better not play with me, Alina. - He narrows his eyes. - You have ten minutes to get ready.
His commanding tone irritates me deeply.
- I thought our “relationship” was just blackmail,” I say, with my arms crossed. - I don't want this to become something more. Besides, Alfa, you're a bit older. I have no interest.
What happens next is so fast that I barely have time to react.
Marco grabs me by the neck and presses me against the wall.
- You're joking too much, little girl. Do you think you have any power here?
I try to hold back a cough as his hand squeezes my throat.
- Is this... a threat, Alpha? - I gasp. - If you could let go of my neck, I could defend myself...
He abruptly releases me, but instead of backing away, he starts sniffing the air. His gaze becomes sharp.
- What's that smell?
My stomach drops.
He advances into the house, completely ignoring my protests. He begins to inspect the rooms, his expression becoming darker by the second. When he reaches the sofa, he leans over and inhales deeply.
- Look, there's no one here! - I try to sound convincing.
He turns to me, his eyes filled with authority and something deeper.
- Who have you been associating with, Alina?
My irritation grows.
- I don't remember having to send you a report on who I hang out with or don't hang out with.
He moves closer, his dominating presence sucking all the air out of the room.
- Are you aware that you can't take any steps without telling me first?
- Oh, give me a break! I thought our relationship was just blackmail. Are you going to give me what I want or not?
He leans closer, his voice a threatening whisper:
- Don't forget that you and Samia tried to trick me. That could cost you a few heads.
I feel a chill run down my spine, but I smile, disguising it.
- I can't believe it! - I put a hand to my chest, feigning shock. - Are you going to offer me a job? Be my daddy? Look, I don't kiss or f**k, but I'll take you on three dates a month. Expensive restaurants, please. Oh, and a Black card with no limits.
The impact is instantaneous. Before I can react, he grabs me and throws me against the wall.
Pain explodes in my head and the metallic taste of blood spreads through my mouth.
I groan, bringing my hand to my face.
- “Wow, Alfa Marco...” I mutter. - “I never imagined this from you. I thought you were a gentleman.
He says nothing. He just moves closer, watching me intensely.
Then, without warning, he grabs my face, his eyes plunging into mine.
- - What's wrong? What's wrong? - I ask, confused.
He frowns.
- There's something wrong with you...
I choke on my breath.
But before I can process it, his voice returns to its authoritative tone:
- You have twenty minutes to get ready. And then you're going to tell me who the renegade was who was here.
He walks away, but the fear remains in my bones.
Something tells me that this evening is not going to end well.
- Writer
