The Night Everything Went Wrong Part. 2
680 Words
Roslynn had been dragged into some questionable situations in her life, mostly by her own bad decisions, but being hauled through the forest by a half-shifted stranger with glowing silver eyes was a new personal low.
Branches whipped at her arms as she stumbled behind him, his grip firm around her wrist as if he thought she might evaporate if he let go.
“Slow down,” she snapped, yanking against his hold. “I have legs, not rocket boosters.”
He didn’t slow. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Oh, really? And you think dragging me into the woods like some feral kidnapper is the solution?”
“I’m not kidnapping you.”
“Really? Because it feels very kidnap‑adjacent.”
He stopped so abruptly she nearly crashed into his back. He turned, eyes glowing like molten silver in the moonlight.
“I’m saving your life.”
“Against my will,” she shot back.
“You’re welcome.”
Roslynn blinked. “Blaze, that’s not how gratitude works.”
Blaze didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
He just stared at her like she’d said something impossible. Or dangerous.
Or both.
Roslynn swallowed, suddenly aware of what she just said and how close he was. Close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off him in waves, like he was running a fever only the moon could see.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed but coming off more breathless instead. She knew all too well why he was looking at her that way. Honestly, if the shoes were on the other foot, she'd be giving him the same smoldering look.
“You shouldn’t know my name, Roslynn,” he said quietly.
Her pupils were blown wide. “Well, I do, congratulations. You’re famous.”
His eyes narrowed. “Roslynn—”
“What a second…,” she said, stepping back. “How do you know my name?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he took a slow step toward her, each movement deliberate, as if the forest itself were inching closer. The shadows deepened, curling around the trees like dark fingers. A chill settled in the air, wrapping tightly around her. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest like a drum, each beat echoing the tension that hung between them.
“Stop doing that,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“That looming thing. It’s very… Alpha of you.”
“I am an Alpha.”
“Yeah, I got that from the growling and the unsolicited forest abduction.”
His jaw ticked. “I told you—I wasn’t abducting you.”
“Right. You were saving me. Against my will.”
He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like she was testing the last thread of his patience.
Good.
She hoped she was.
“Roslynn,” he said, voice low, “if I hadn’t pulled you away, those things would’ve done unspeakable things to you.”
“And you couldn’t just shout a warning?”
“They would’ve heard.”
“Then whisper!”
He blinked. “Whisper?”
“Yes! Whisper! Use your words! ‘Hey, Roslynn, danger behind you.’ See? Easy.”
He stared at her like she’d just suggested he sprout wings and fly.
“I don’t whisper,” he said flatly.
“Oh, I believe that,” she muttered.
He stepped closer again, and she backed up until her shoulders brushed a tree trunk. Blaze didn’t touch her, but he didn’t need to. His presence pressed against her like a second heartbeat.
“You’re trembling,” he said.
“It’s cold.”
“It’s sixty degrees.”
“Then it’s you.”
“Good.”
She glared at him. “You’re very confident for someone who just admitted he doesn’t know how to whisper.”
His lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough that it made her stomach flip.
You’re difficult,” he murmured.
“And you’re bossy.”
“I’m an Alpha.”
- Writer
