CHAPTER FIVE - THE JOURNEY NORTH

1343 Words
CHAPTER FIVE - THE JOURNEY NORTH Carlos. Please be alive. He was still lying in the grass, but his chest moved, barely. I dropped to my knees beside him, checking for his pulse. Faint. But there. My hands trembled as I pressed them against Carlos's chest, feeling for the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Relief flooded through me when I found it, strong and sure beneath my palms. "Carlos," I whispered, patting his cheek gently. "Please, wake up." His eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly. Those grey eyes I'd grown so fond of focused on my face, confusion clouding them before clarity returned. "Amelia?" His voice was hoarse. He tried to sit up, wincing as he touched the back of his head. "What happened? The man..." "He's dead." The words came out flat, emotionless. I helped Carlos to his feet, my own legs still shaking from what had transpired. "I killed him." *** Carlos's eyes widened as he took in the scene—the stranger's lifeless form sprawled on my kitchen floor, the overturned chairs, the broken shelves and dishes. Then his gaze fell on my face, and his expression darkened. "You're hurt." His fingers barely touched the scratch along my cheek, but I flinched. The wound burned like fire. "It's nothing compared to what he intended." I moved away from his touch, wrapping my arms around myself. "Carlos, I need to tell you something. I have been having the same dream, and this man... he knew about it. He said I was the one they were looking for." Carlos went very still. "What exactly did he say?" I recounted everything, the stranger's words about my dreams, his mention of others like him, the way he'd seemed to know things about me that I didn't even understand myself. With each detail, Carlos's face grew grimmer. "We need to leave," he said finally. "Now. If he found you here, others will follow." "But the body..." "I'll handle it." Carlos was already moving, his earlier injury seemingly forgotten. "Pack only what you need. We leave within the hour." I watched him drag the stranger's body outside. The cottage that had been my sanctuary now felt like a trap, every shadow potentially hiding another threat. As we prepared to leave, Carlos caught my arm gently. "Amelia, whatever you are, whatever these dreams mean, I won't let anyone hurt you. Do you understand?" The sincerity in his voice made my chest tight. I nodded, not trusting my voice to remain steady. We traveled north through the forest, Carlos leading us along paths I never would have found on my own. The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy above, but I felt cold despite the warmth. Every rustling leaf, every distant sound made me jump. "There's an old cabin about a mile ahead, it belonged to a friend" Carlos said after we'd been walking for hours. "We can rest there tonight." My feet ached in my worn boots, and exhaustion was beginning to make my steps clumsy. The scratch on my face throbbed with each heartbeat, and I could feel dried blood flaking away when I moved my jaw. We reached the cabin, it was little more than four walls and a roof.We entered. Dust covered everything. The air smelled of old wood and earth. He started a fire while I found blankets. My feet ached, and my face still stung, but I felt safe. Carlos sat near the fire, shirtless. His skin glowed in the firelight. I watched the flames dance over his chest, the curve of his muscles, the strength in his arms. “You keep staring,” he said, smirking. I blushed. “You’re hard not to look at.” He looked at me, serious now. “You saved me.” “You’ve saved me more than once.” He stood, walked to where I sat on the edge of the bed. “Still.” His hand brushed my cheek, thumb grazing the cut. His fingers were gentle as they traced the air just above my wound, careful not to cause more pain. "It should heal well enough," he murmured. "But it might leave a mark." "I don't care about that." My voice came out softer than I'd intended. Carlos's hand stilled. I leaned into his touch. “Carlos…” His hand moved to my neck. “Tell me to stop.” I didn’t. He bent, kissed my forehead. Then my cheek. Then lower, lips grazing my jaw. I tilted my head, giving him more. “Don’t stop.” Our mouths met, hot, slow, full of hunger. His kiss was deep, claiming. I melted into it, my hands in his hair, pulling him closer. He pushed me gently back onto the bed, his body covering mine. I felt the weight of him, solid and warm. His mouth moved to my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving heat in its path. My dress was thin. His hands slid beneath it, fingers tracing my thighs. I gasped when he touched the inside, the spot aching for him. “You’re already wet,” he whispered, voice rough. I whimpered. “Carlos…” His fingers stroked me slowly, teasing. “Tell me what you want.” “You. All of you.” He growled softly and pulled the dress over my head. I was bare beneath it. His eyes darkened as he took me in. “You are beautiful.” He kissed down my chest, lips closing around my n****e. I moaned, arching up into him. His hand slid between my legs again, fingers sliding inside, slow and deep. I was shaking, breathless. “I need to feel you,” I begged. Carlos removed his trousers, and I gasped again. He was thick, hard, more than I’d imagined. He pressed between my thighs, eyes locked on mine. “I’ll go slow.” I nodded, heart pounding. He entered me slowly, inch by inch. My body stretched to take him, and I gasped at the fullness. He stilled once he was fully inside, breathing hard. “You feel like fire,” he groaned. He began to move, slow at first, deep and steady. I wrapped my legs around him, meeting every thrust. Each stroke sent sparks up my spine. Our bodies moved like they were made for this, like we were made for each other. His mouth found mine again, kissing me fiercely. His pace quickened. I cried out his name as the heat built, wave after wave crashing through me. “Carlos...” I cried out and my whole body shook with pleasure, trembling. He held me through it, groaning my name, burying himself deep as he came. We lay tangled together after, our bodies still burning. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead Whatever comes next," I murmured against his chest, "I'm glad you're with me." His arms tightened around me. "Always," he promised. *** We traveled for two more days, moving deeper into the wilderness. On the morning of our third day, we crested a ridge and saw smoke rising from a chimney in the valley below. "That's Rowan's place," Carlos said, relief evident in his voice. The cabin was larger than the abandoned one where we'd sheltered, with neat gardens and split-rail fences. A man emerged as we approached, tall and broad-shouldered, with graying hair and eyes that seemed to see everything at once. "Carlos," he called out, but his gaze fixed on me almost immediately. His nostrils flared slightly, and his expression grew puzzled. "And who might this be?" "Rowan, this is Amelia. Amelia, my old friend Rowan." I stepped forward to greet him properly, but Rowan held up a hand, his head tilted as if listening to something only he could hear. "Interesting," he murmured, circling me slowly. "Very interesting indeed." "What is it?" Carlos moved closer to me, protective. Rowan stopped in front of me. "Her scent, Carlos. It's unlike any werewolf I've encountered in years" He met my eyes directly. "What are you? Because you're certainly not what you appear to be.”
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