20
945 Words
The shattered wood clattered against the tile floor, and the dust cleared to reveal Michael standing in the doorway, his massive frame completely filling the broken entrance. Two of his personal guards stood right behind him, their expressions grim and hands ready on their weapons. Michael didn’t hesitate for a single second. He took a long stride forward, his eyes taking in my bleeding body, and immediately scooped me up into his powerful arms. His chest was broad and warm, but his face remained a mask of complete calm. He walked slowly out of the restroom, showing absolutely no surprise or panic about my state. He carried me effortlessly back through the grand corridors and into the main arena, his guards shoving a path through the dense crowd. The sea of people was moving toward the exit gates in a massive wave, making it obvious that the emergency meeting had officially ended. My head was spinning so violently that the lights above blurred into bright streaks, and I could barely focus on any of the faces passing us by.
We finally reached his luxury vehicle, where he gently laid me down across the soft leather back seat. He sat right down beside me, his dark eyes watching me intently. A wave of intense shame washed over me; I couldn't stop wondering if his sharp Lycan senses could perceive the disgusting smell of the toilet water clinging to my skin, or if he was simply choosing to keep quiet out of pity. I completely hated myself in that moment, feeling utterly worthless and filthy. Desperate to escape the judgment and the throbbing pain in my bones, I tightly closed my eyes, hoping that the darkness would stop my mind from racing. Within seconds, the smooth purr of the engine started up, the car began to glide forward, and I drifted off into a deep, heavy sleep.
"Oh girl, wake up and take your drugs. I don't have all day, sleeping beauty," a sharp voice echoed through the room. A firm hand kept tapping my shoulder, dragging me roughly out of my dreams.
I forced my heavy eyelids open, blinking against the bright light, only to see a familiar face bending over me. It was Ella. She pressed the back of her hand against my neck, checking my skin for a fever before pulling away with a curt nod. "Your temperature is completely normal, and that's fine," she murmured, gathering her medical tools from a nearby tray. "When I was summoned here in a hurry, I honestly thought something terrible had happened to you. Although, there is a little bit of fresh bleeding from your back, like you slammed into something hard. But that's fine too, nothing we can't fix."
She reached for a small plastic cup containing a couple of large pills, alongside a tall glass of water, and handed them straight to me. As I gulped down the medicine, trying to ignore the bitter taste coating my tongue, she picked up a sharp syringe filled with clear fluid. Without a word of warning, she pierced the needle deep into my skin to deliver the injection. I squeezed my face tight in agony, my fingers gripping the bedsheets as the cold medicine burned through my veins.
Ella stood up from the edge of the bed, wiping her hands with a towel. "She is going to be completely fine," she announced to the empty space near the doorway. But before she fully packed her bag to leave, she turned back around to glare at me, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "Stop getting knocked out every single time something happens. And girl, you seriously stink of urine. You smell absolutely terrible. Go wash up immediately."
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the reality of the situation hit me like a slap. *Oh, f**k,* I thought, my heart jumping into my throat. I quickly scrambled up and looked around the massive, luxurious space. This wasn't the guest room I had been staying in; the heavy drapes and dark furniture made it clear that this was Michael's personal bedroom. The thought of being in his private space sent a bolt of pure panic through my chest. I had to get out of here and get back to my own room as fast as possible.
My breathing grew shallow as I kicked off the sheets, looking around for my high heels, wanting nothing more than to flee the area before the Lycan King returned. But a dark thought stopped me in my tracks. Michael was the one who had brought me here and kept me in his bed; leaving without his permission might be seen as highly disrespectful to a man of his stature, and I was still far too unfamiliar with the rules of this massive pack house.
I looked down at my stained, filthy dress and shuddered. *Maybe I can quickly take a shower here before he comes back,* I reasoned, desperate to rid myself of the sickening smell. I rushed over to his giant walk-in wardrobe and swung the doors open, but my eyes scanned the shelves only to find rows of heavy male suits and shirts. The only thing remotely wearable was a pair of silk pajamas tucked in the corner.
I grabbed a thick, white towel from the shelf, quickly unzipped my ruined dress, and let it drop to the floor. Wrapping the towel tightly around my bare body, I rushed toward the adjoining bathroom. I pushed the heavy door open, stepping inside, but the breath instantly caught in my throat.
Michael was standing right there in the middle of the bathroom.
Completely naked.
- Writer
