Chapter 3
561 Words
The Man with Golden Eyes
The stranger stepped out of the darkness.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating a tall figure dressed in black.
Everything about him radiated danger.
Not the reckless danger of a warrior.
Not the arrogant danger of an Alpha.
Something older.
Something far more terrifying.
Isabella instinctively stepped backward.
Her wolf growled.
The stranger's golden eyes narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
Almost as though he could hear her wolf.
"Who are you?" Isabella demanded.
The man's gaze traveled over her face.
Studying.
Evaluating.
Almost disbelieving.
For several moments he didn't answer.
Then he spoke.
"That is the wrong question."
His voice was deep.
Controlled.
Powerful.
The kind of voice that commanded obedience without trying.
Isabella hated it immediately.
"I asked first."
One dark eyebrow lifted.
A hint of amusement appeared.
The first emotion she had seen from him.
"You have courage."
"I have common sense."
"No."
His eyes remained locked on hers.
"You stayed."
The realization struck her.
He was right.
Every instinct told her to run.
Yet she hadn't moved.
For some reason she couldn't explain, the stranger felt dangerous...
But not threatening.
At least not to her.
The man took another step forward.
The air itself seemed to change around him.
Power rolled from him in waves.
Her wolf immediately lowered its head.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
The response shocked Isabella.
Her wolf had never reacted that way before.
The stranger noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Everything about him suggested he missed nothing.
"What are you?" she asked quietly.
For the first time, something dark flashed through his eyes.
Pain.
Old pain.
Ancient pain.
Then it vanished.
"I could ask you the same thing."
The answer made no sense.
Yet something about it unsettled her.
Before she could respond, movement erupted in the forest.
Three shadows exploded from the trees.
Assassins.
Their scent hit her immediately.
Not pack warriors.
Not rogues.
Something else.
Something unfamiliar.
The first attacker lunged directly toward Isabella.
She barely had time to react.
A silver blade flashed.
The assassin screamed.
Then fell apart.
Literally.
One moment he existed.
The next he was in pieces.
Blood sprayed across the forest floor.
Isabella froze.
The stranger hadn't moved.
At least she hadn't seen him move.
The remaining attackers stopped instantly.
Fear flooded their faces.
Pure terror.
One whispered a name.
A name that sent shock through the others.
"The King..."
The stranger sighed.
Almost annoyed.
"You should have stayed hidden."
The assassins ran.
They didn't attack.
They didn't fight.
They ran.
As though death itself stood before them.
The stranger disappeared.
A black blur.
A scream echoed through the forest.
Then another.
Then silence.
Several seconds later he returned.
Not a hair out of place.
Not a mark on his clothing.
As though he had merely gone for a walk.
Isabella stared.
"What are you?"
The stranger looked at her.
Then finally answered.
"I am Lucian Nightshade."
The name meant nothing.
But her wolf reacted instantly.
A violent surge of emotion exploded inside her mind.
Respect.
Fear.
Recognition.
The reaction nearly knocked her off balance.
Lucian noticed.
Again.
Of course he noticed.
"Your wolf knows who I am."
"I don't."
His gaze darkened.
"That is because your people buried the truth."
A chill ran down her spine.
"What truth?"
Lucian looked toward the moon.
His expression became unreadable.
"The truth about your blood."
- Writer
