Desired by Shadows

12: Lost and Found

Violet Stone

"Release me," Violet pleaded, her energy waning, making it nearly impossible to stand. She couldn't break free from the grip of the formidable Vincent. "Don't lay a hand on me."

Violet couldn't help but wonder what was happening to her. All of a sudden, she felt as though she were plummeting.

She found herself contemplating whether Owen's actions during their embrace had contributed to her sudden loss of strength. His perplexing behaviour had left her bewildered, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was a connection between the two.

Despite her doubts, Violet found it hard to believe that Owen had done anything to harm her. He wouldn't.

She couldn't recall witnessing any actions or feeling any pain inflicted by him. Nevertheless, despite this uncertainty, she persisted in her efforts to break free from the firm grip of the man holding her.

To her shock, Vincent pinned her against the wall, locking her hands above her head, holding them tightly together with one hand and slipped his other hand inside her sweatshirt, his hand on her bare waist, feeling her skin.

"You're as smooth as silk, and the best part is your tiny waist fits in my palm just fine. Look." He said, his voice dripping with a ghostly feeling as he traced his cool, slender fingers lightly along the curve of her waist, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Violet's insides churned in response to his insatiable hunger, a monstrous craving poised to engulf her in his lust.

She yearned for the strength to muster a push, to distance herself from him.

As he leaned in closer, his breath was chilling against her skin, and she could feel the subtle pressure of his lips on her neck, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, his senses heightened.

His eyes, dark, threatening to consume her with overpowering desire, bore into hers with an intensity that made her heart race in panic.

Vincent's behaviour was undeniably predatory, leaving Violet with a profound sense of disgust and unease. His actions had stirred a deep-seated revulsion within her, making her long to escape his chilling presence.

"You bastard, don't you dare lay your hands on her," Owen's voice rang out, a blend of fury and protectiveness in his tone.

His sudden appearance sent a surge of hope through Violet, breaking the spell of fear that had enveloped her. Owen stepped forward, ready to confront Vincent and put an end to the menacing situation.

Vincent, his lips curling into a sly smile, retorted, "Oh, Owen, you always were the hero, weren't you? But you're too late to save this one."

Owen's gaze remained unwavering as he replied, his voice laced with an icy resolve, "I won't let you lay a finger on her any further. Release her now, or face the consequences."

Vincent chuckled darkly, his predatory demeanour intact. "Consequences, you say? You underestimate me, old friend. She's not like the others, and she's here for a reason."

Their exchange crackled with tension, as the fate of Violet hung in the balance, caught in the middle of a deadly clash between two formidable opponents.

By then Violet felt her energy being mercilessly drained, and she collapsed to the floor, weakened. With her vision blurred and her eyelids heavy, she struggled to open her eyes.

In those fleeting moments, she caught glimpses of Owen and Vincent engaged in a fierce battle, their unusually remarkable traits on full display. They punched each other with unnatural strength, sending shockwaves through the room as they slammed each other against the wall.

Amidst her confusion and weakened state, what astonished her the most was their agility and speed as they seemed to defy the laws of physics, zooming around the room like spectral apparitions locked in a deadly dance of fury.

Overwhelmed by the relentless battle unfolding before her and her own dwindling strength, she gradually closed her eyes and slipped into a deep slumber. The sounds of the skirmish between Owen and Vincent faded into a distant, haunting dream as darkness enveloped her consciousness.

When Violet finally stirred from what felt like an eternity of unconsciousness, she found herself in dramatically altered surroundings. The chaos that had once filled the room had dissipated, replaced by an eerie stillness that hung heavily in the air.

Owen and Vincent had vanished without a trace, leaving Violet with a disconcerting sense of uncertainty.

She awoke in a dimly lit, opulent chamber, surrounded by opulent antique furnishings and intricate decorations.

Her body rested on a sumptuous canopy bed adorned with deep crimson sheets. The room emitted an otherworldly ambience, and faint, unsettling sounds echoed through distant hallways.

As she gradually pushed herself up from the bed, she realized her strength had returned, although her body still bore the ache from the earlier ordeal.

Oddly, there were no signs of the violent struggle she remembered—no shattered furniture, no scuff marks on the walls. It was as though the tempest that had torn through the place, leaving only destruction in its wake, had been erased, leaving behind a haunting mystery to unravel.

She cautiously swung her legs over the edge of the canopy bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet beneath.

As she explored the room, her fingers trailed over the intricate details of the antique furnishings. Every piece seemed to tell a story, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in a place of great significance.

The unsettling sounds in the distance only added to her unease, and she couldn't help but wonder if there were more secrets hidden within those walls.

She approached a heavy, velvet-draped window to peer outside, but all she could see were impenetrable shadows and an eerie, moonlit landscape. It was as if the world beyond this room was veiled in secrecy.

Violet's exploration led her to a massive, ornate mirror that dominated one wall of the opulent chamber. Its surface was pristine, reflecting her image back at her with startling clarity. Her own reflection, framed by the room's opulence, seemed out of place in this surreal setting.

As Violet took a cautious step back, her racing heart quickening with each passing moment, she suddenly collided with an unexpected and solid presence. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as her back hit his solid chest.

Startled by the encounter, she spun around in surprise, disoriented by the rush of sensations. Before her stood Owen, his tall form now towering over her, his proximity and their collision leaving an unspoken tension in the air.

He had seemingly materialized out of thin air, and his sudden appearance had caught her off guard. What puzzled her most was that she hadn't seen his reflection in the ornate mirror moments ago.

Violet's desire for clarity and the uncanny nature of the situation led her to contemplate checking the mirror once more.

Just as she was about to shift her gaze back to the glass, Owen's hands gently but firmly grasped her shoulders, holding her in place. His eyes bore into hers, a mix of concern and caution as if he were trying to convey something unspoken.

The room's secrets continued to elude her, and the enigma surrounding her predicament deepened as Owen's presence raised more questions than answers.

"Owen," Violet whispered, her voice trembling with a combination of relief and confusion. "How did you—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Owen interrupted, his tone low and urgent. "There isn't much time, Violet. You need to leave this place, now."

Violet's eyes darted toward the mirror once more, her curiosity piqued. "But I didn't see your reflection in the mirror earlier. What's happening, Owen? What is this place?"

Owen's grip on her shoulders tightened slightly as he replied, "There's no time to explain. Just trust me, and we'll find a way out together." His eyes, once again, scanned the room, as if assessing the immediate threat that lingered in the shadows.

Violet, her voice quivering, finally spoke up, "Owen, what's happening? I don't understand any of this."

Owen's gaze softened, and he spoke reassuringly, "We're in a place few humans ever see, Violet, and it's not safe. I brought you here to protect you, but now you must leave."

She couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and apprehension at his words. "Protect me from what, Owen? And when you mention 'human,' I'm not sure I follow. What are you trying to tell me?"

But before Owen could provide further explanation, Violet's curiosity gave way to stubbornness. She insisted on knowing more, pushing for answers Owen was reluctant to give.

"Violet, you need to trust me," Owen implored, his patience wearing thin. "There are things here that you can't possibly comprehend right now. It's not safe for you to stay."

However, Violet's growing unease and confusion spurred her to seek answers. She hesitated but felt compelled to understand the situation. "You're the one who brought me here, Owen, after I asked you to stay at my place for some company."

Frustration flickered across Owen's face, and he could no longer contain his exasperation. His impatience almost propelled him to drag her outside, her feet barely keeping up with his determined stride.

"Enough, Violet!" he snapped, his voice sharp. "I'll deal with this later. Get out!" With a brusque motion, he rudely ushered her out of his home, leaving her bewildered and shocked as she found herself standing in the rain, with nightfall approaching.

On one hand, she was struggling to come to terms with the astonishing revelation that werewolves like Dr Lupin Darkwood existed, a notion that had once seemed confined to the realms of folklore.

Now, as the surreal and bizarre unfolded at Owen's place, compounded by the disturbing encounter with the lustful Vincent, she couldn't help but question everything she thought she knew.

Owen, someone she had just begun to trust and lean on as a friend, had unceremoniously cast her out of his remote forest home. Now, she found herself feeling lost and abandoned in this perplexing and unsettling situation.

As she stood in the gathering rain, a mixture of anger, frustration, and vulnerability surged within Violet.

She berated herself for her oversight, realizing how foolish it had been to neglect her phone when she made the impromptu decision to accompany Owen to his home the previous night.

This was the culmination of a lifetime of feeling taken for granted, starting with her family's status as outcasts in their community. Now, this handful of individuals she had recently begun to connect with seemed even more deceitful, playing with her emotions and betraying her trust.

Enough was enough. She couldn't continue to be a pushover, allowing others to dictate her life and manipulate her emotions.

With the rain soaking through her clothes and hair plastered to her face, she vowed to take control of her life and not let anyone exploit her vulnerability ever again. Never before in her life had she experienced such humiliation.

The storm outside mirrored the tempest brewing within her as she walked alone in the pouring rain on the narrow roads encircled by the dense forest, eerie animal sounds echoing in the distance.

Her heart raced, and her thoughts raced along with it, a chaotic mix of anger, betrayal, and determination. Each step she took in the darkness was a declaration that she would no longer be a pawn in anyone's game.