The Hybrid

THE SECOND FIRST ENCOUNTER

LIA’S POV

My head hurts. Scratch that, my entire body hurts.

What on earth did I do last night? I shut my eyes as soon as I opened them. It’s too bright.

Wait? Bright?

I sit up in a rush, well I try to. I always wake up before dawn to make breakfast for the family. If the sun is up already, that means I am in big trouble.

My body feels very sore, and trapped. I look downward and let out a gasp.

A naked man is lying on top of me!

“Oh my goddess!” I exclaim and kick him off me.

His huge body rolls to the side like a piece of rag.

“Wow.” I clutch my head in my arms, confused.

“What on earth happened last night?”

I look at my surroundings, and it is completely unfamiliar. It looks like a cottage. Old, but it looks well managed. It looks pretty small, just enough for one person, and for some reason I am lying at the entrance with a naked man.

I shoot another look at his direction and I feel my cheeks heat up. I rise to my feet and take it all in. The space is dim, with the only light coming in from the open door and a tiny space beside a closed window. The walls are panelled with wood with a huge fireplace in front of a cozy looking leather chair.

Brown rugs on the floor that look a bit worn, but I let out a silent sigh as my feet sink into them. It is a clear sign of luxury, the scent of wood and leather gives the place a comforting vibe.

I am tempted to take a seat on the cozy looking leather chair in front of a huge fireplace when my mind clicks and the memories of last night come rushing back.

I run out the door, jumping over the sleeping man, only to be met by trees.

“Oh no.” I spend the next twenty minutes trying to find a path out of the woods but there is literally no way out of here. And for the life of me, I can’t remember anything from last night after I stumbled on lying figure in the woods.

My mind races with multiple scenarios, I have so many questions. How did I get here? Is this place even somewhere inside the pack? There is nothing familiar about these woods, it doesn’t feel like home.

There is only one person I can get these answers from, I turn back in the direction of the cottage, who is that man?

As I walk back, I am hit by a sudden sense of absence. I can’t feel the pack link.

“How is that possible?” I gasp. “Exactly how far am I from home?”

Does this mean I am rogue?! But I don’t feel feral.

Unease coils in my stomach and I hasten my steps back to the cottage, trying not to get caught between the roots of the huge trees. I am breathing heavily by the time I reach the door.

He is still lying there, the exact same way I left him. A chill runs down my spine.

Is he dead?”

I move closer and notice the gash on his legs. I feel a sudden sense of deja vu, like this has happened before. With hesitant hands, I turn him over and I gasp at the sight of his face.

Thick dark eyebrows, slightly angled, crown his closed eyes, his long eyelashes resting lightly on high cheekbone, sharp enough to cut glass. He has the kind of nose that should be unnatural, with his cheeks covered with a hint of a beard. My hand moves on its own touching his jawline, chiseled like it’s been carved from marble.

The heat coming from his skin jolts me back to reality.

I place my hand on his forehead, sweeping his long hair away from his face and I flinch.

He is burning hot.

I look at the terrible wound on his leg. Shouldn’t his wolf be healing the wound? There are other wounds scattered all over his body.

I shake him gently. “Hello?!”

“Can you hear me?!”

Apart from the very subtle rise and fall of his chest, he shows no other sign of life.

“s**t! s**t! s**t!”

If he already has a fever from the wound, that means it is already infected, or worse, poisoned.

I observe the wound, and my heart sinks. It is yellowing at the edges, wolfsbane. If he has had this wound since last night, it is a surprise he is still alive. I have to do something fast, or he will die, and there goes my chances of getting back to the pack, to James.

I see a door to my left, and I rush towards it. It leads into a little kitchen.

Perfect.

I rummage through the shelves, looking for something, anything, but the only things I see are empty jars.

Shit. I need to go back into the woods.

“Argh!” I groan as I half-carry, half-drag him on a single bed inside the only room in the cottage. “You are as heavy as a horse, mister.”

I avert my eyes and throw a thin blanket over him. I grab a basket in the kitchen and return back into the woods.

Luckily, I don’t go far before I find the herbs I’m searching for. I find a sturdy stick, and using a knife I brought along, I sharpen the edge making it look like a spear.

For self-protection, I tell myself and then I rush back to the cottage and make a tea from wild chamomile and ginger roots to ease the fever. His eyes don’t open as I gently make him swallow some wild chamomile to ease the fever. I grind the mandrake roots and changa mushrooms together to make a poultice, trying hard to ignore the memories this action brings, treasured memories that should stay at the back of my mind forever.

I push every thought away and focus everything on keeping this man alive. This is the only way I can get back to the only person I have left.

I clean the wounds as carefully as possible, my movement almost mechanic and apply the poultice before using a makeshift bandage to cover it all up.

I place my hand on his forehead again and I sigh in relief.

The fever is gone.

Now we just have to hope the poultice is enough to fight the poison. My stomach grumble in hunger, but my body feels even more tired as I fall into the seat beside the bed and my eyes close.

I wake up to the heavy feeling of eyes on me. I raise my head slowly, and our eyes meet. My lips part and the world around me comes to a halt and I feel my heart quicken. It is like I am drowning in a sea of green, not just any green, his eyes are like twin emerald gems with mossy depths that sees deep into my soul. Hypnotic, mesmerising as they pull me in and everything else ceases to exist.

I hear my sense of reason somewhere at the back of my mind, but it is faint, muffled.

What is happening to me?

I watch his pale lips part and curve, like he is trying to speak. I can stare at him forever…

“Who the f**k are you?” He speaks, voice low and gravelly.

I fall out of my daydream immediately. “What?”

“How the f**k did you get in here?” He asks.

Red rushes to my cheeks out of embarrassment and I sit upright in my chair.

The nerve of this man.

“I should be the one asking you that.” I snap. “Is this how you speak to people who save your life?”

He closes his eyes, his expression like one who is in pain and I shoot out of my seat.

“Are you okay?”

He gives me a look that says, well, obviously not.

“What did you do to me?”

I scoff in disbelief. “Are you kidding. What did I do to you? Me?”

He is obviously already tired from our little interaction; it’s a surprise he woke up so soon, but he gives me a deadpan look anyway, like I am the one who did the k********g.

I breathe through my mouth, sending a prayer to the moon goddess for patience.

“I mean, I’m flattered that you think I,” I gesture towards myself. “...can hurt you.” I look pointedly at his large figure.

“But I didn’t do anything to you. In fact, if not for me, you’d be dead. And you’re welcome.”

He let out a low grunt and rises up slowly, trying to get off the bed.

“No!” I hurriedly stop him with both my hands on his shoulders. “You shouldn’t move yet.”

His body freezes as soon as I touch him, his eyes snapping to the spot where our skin meets and he stares at it. A few seconds pass, filling the room with an awkward silence. I remove my hands, but then he stares up at me, looking directly into my eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”