The Witchwolf

Chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR



LEXARA'S POV

Confusion was written all over my soul. Did they know each other from somewhere? Why did they use endearing words to call each other? My brain twisted with every question. Could things get more complicated?

My mom's claws retreated. "I thought you were in bed?" Her voice was pure velvety. I'm not sure I could ever recall when my mother's voice had ever been that soft. It sounded too lovely to be hers.

"I was. But I..." It was his turn to trail off. He looked from me to her and then back to me again. His eyes grew soft with mystery. His hands shook, and the water fell, spattering far and wide in the room.

His eyes moved unsteadily, and I narrowed my eyes to read his movement.

I could not read it, so I voluntarily returned to my food. As long as he was there, she would not hurt me. I spoke positive reassurance to my mind.

It didn't matter that he had shown some conflicting behavior. He was the perfect gentleman for me, a mate sent from heaven.

If someone handsome and beautiful could take care of me, then I had to count myself lucky.

I lovingly shoved my food in. My main aim was to eat. The brainstorming about how they got to know themselves could be done later.

"I don't understand. "Why are you taking care of my daughter?" disbelief swam sweetly in her voice.

"Daughter? "You have a daughter?" His disbelief vibrated differently from my mom's. It held a hint of anger.

I dropped my spoon. My stomach must be full by now from all the surprises. It was now time to find out the truth.

"I, hmm... "She's not my daughter," she stuttered in reply, shifting nervously from one leg to the other.

"Mom!" I shrieked. Could her wickedness go any higher?

"I think you should leave," he cut in at once, moving quickly to my side.

"Rose, do not rile yourself up," his calming voice soothed, as he patted my hair lovingly. "Eat and sleep, I'll explain everything later," he assured.

The next thing I heard was the sound of rippling fabric. My mom was transforming into a werewolf.

Her white fluffy form ripped the silk into formless pieces, giving room for all her features to become pronounced.

Her claws were long, mirroring who she truly was.

"What are you doing?" His eyes blazed. "Transform back, Now!" His command vibrated the whole room and my heart went out even more to him.

He was just as caring as I wished my men to be. It was beautiful seeing him get worked up to protect me.

To my dismay, my mom replied with a whine. She moved forward a bit and tried to get some cuddles from him.

I watched the drama unfold with confused eyes. The scenario sounded and indeed looked like some badly written movie script. How could this be? Who in the whole wide world could script such nonsense?

"My Rose, have some rest, I'll be right back," his feet pounded out, in contrast to the tone he used with me.

Was he leaving me already? I almost shouted a "no", but I held back.

He probably had something important to take care of. He tried for me. It was now my turn to be strong for myself and look out for myself.

I took a glance at my mom's wolf form and quickly closed my eyes, forgetting my hasty promise to be strong.

There was a dangerous attacking energy in her eyes. It felt like any moment, she would tear me apart.

My heart pumped faster. She could rip me apart. It was only a miracle that she had not done that before now.

I closed my eyes tightly as I tried to use any wolf instinct in me to track her every step. It had never worked, but I still wanted to give it a try.

I focused all my sense organs on the wild animal that stood just a few feet away from my bed. I heard nothing, there was no stirring nor movement.

Everything was as a ghost-silent as a graveyard. Was she gone or pretending to be gone?

The rhetorical question faded unanswered. There was no logical answer to be given.

I decided to open my eyes to see what was going on. No sooner had I opened my eyes than I felt some liquid on my face. The werewolf's urinary gland was over my face, pouring down rain from a pot of devilish wickedness.

I quickly shut my eyes to avoid the liquid trickling into it. It poured and poured as if it was from a tankful of urine. My eyes, nose and mouth were subjected to the cruelty of being beaten by it.

I prayed for the downpour to end, but it continued its descent. I held on to the mental picture of the angel of my life, but soon the strong smell of the urine pushed it away.

I lay on the bed, motionless, submitting myself as a willing latrine for the bladder waste. Tears, my favorite companion, began its slow descent of mixture.

It rushed as fast as the retreating urine, mixing its warm temperature with the urine's heated temperature.

I accepted my fate and lay quietly till the last trickles ended their activity. I felt the werewolf's Spider-Man stance disappear, followed by a breath of fresh air.

How she had managed to climb the bed and position herself on my face was a mystery I didn't bother dwelling on.

I didn't even bother to open my eyes to see where the werewolf had gone, I just lay there and made my bed more wet with salty water.

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I wandered down the mansion's hallway, searching for nothing but a way to pass the evening peacefully.

It was unusually quiet, although it was never noisy. The hallway where my room belonged held not even a pin-drop sound. It felt very eerie. Servants should have been moving around with their businesses and there should've been a guard guiding every corner.

I moved forward, happy that I could have time to deal with the noise in my head, without any external influence. It was banging with all the worldly emotions, pulling strings of memories and interconnecting them with reality.

My eyes kept fluttering with each painful banging memory just as my legs tenderly drew me farther down the hallway.

As I moved further, I began to hear some funny sounds. It sounded like a woman's cry.

Curiosity led me forward, grasping my heart firmly and making it yearn for more information.

The noise grew louder with every step I took. The cry was getting more shrill. I hastened my steps to lend a helping hand to the woman in distress.

Being a victim several times, my spirit, soul and body were willing to help in all available ways.

As the cry grew shrill, I broke into a run. It sounded like the woman needed urgent help.

It sounded like some wounded animal, yet it wasn't. It was certainly human and feminine.

I got nearer to the sound and realized that it was coming from one of the many unoccupied rooms of the Thanos mansion.

Feeling very energized to help, I turned the knob and pushed the door wide.

I heard some clapping and searched the hallway for an external body, but found none.

It was only after some moments of active listening, that I realized where the clapping came from.

If not for the perfect formation of my jaw, it would have dropped to the floor in petrition. The image was too grand for my small eyes. They were threatening to pull it out of its socket.

There, before my very eyes on a big bed, a woman was riding a man like a horse rider. Her body burped up and down in harmony with her cry and her breasts were fluttering left and right, up and down.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe as I watched the activity going on. I could feel my blood dry up with every precious second I took to watch them.

My breathing became ragged. I tried to control it but I could not. Everything would've been fine if and only if the horse and the rider were not the angel I met at the party, and my mother, Alice.