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1229 Words
ISLA
I had never been so afraid in my entire life.
I never believed that I would ever feel such terror in my bones, my chest and in every breath I took, but the moment I saw his fangs, everything inside me broke loose. I sprinted from his presence before my mind could catch up. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t care about the cold or the snow that fell harder. I didn’t even care that I could barely see the path in front of me.
I ran like something was chasing me even though he didn’t bother to follow me.
My throat ached from breathing too fast, my lungs burned. My heartbeat was faster and harder like it was punching itself against my ribs. But I didn’t stop running. Stopping meant putting myself in more danger, it meant thinking and thinking meant remembering what I had just witnessed.
When I finally got home, my hands shook so badly that I almost dropped my keys. I slammed the door behind me shut, locked it and pressed my back against it, trying to catch my breath.
My home was small, warm but at that moment, it didn’t feel safe anymore. Nothing around me felt safe.
“Oh God.,” I whispered, sliding down until I sat on the floor. “What was that….what was he? Who was he?”
My mind kept replaying the incident over and over again. I saw the glow in his eyes, the sharp length of his fangs, the strength in his arms when he lifted my ex off the ground like he weighed nothing.
That didn’t seem normal to me. No human was like that, no human looked like the way he did; glowing eyes, fangs, nothing was normal with him.
But he had said the word. Werewolf.
I gasped, pressing my hands to my face and shaking my head hard in denial.
“No, no, no, no….this isn’t real.”
It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t be.
Maybe I was overwhelmed by the heartbreak. Maybe I was too hurt, too angry and was now imagining things that didn’t seem normal.
No.
I remembered the sound of his voice. I remembered the way he spoke to me. The way he called the ‘mate’ like the word meant something important to him.
I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he meant by the word ‘mate’. And I didn’t want to know him or whatever he meant.
Yet, something twisted inside me when I thought about him walking away.
I stood by the window, ensured that no creepy person was monitoring me out there before slowly locking the windows. I turned on every single light in the house, including the bathroom light and the hallway light. It was silly, but I didn’t care; I just needed the brightness, something to remind me that I still lived in a normal world.
Because the world I had seen tonight wasn’t real to me.
I went to my room and climbed the bed, curling myself into a ball under the blanket. My body felt cold, like the winter had followed me inside. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to steady my breathing, but my mind wouldn’t stop wandering.
Images of him kept flashing in my head.
His grip on my ex-boyfriend’s throat. The way his eyes burned with fury, the glow in them that didn’t feel human. Hie fierce expression, hie wild but strange protective nature towards me. The way he said my name softly like he had known me forever.
The worst part…his fangs.
I covered my mouth, feeling my heart drop to u stomach.
I wasn’t dreaming, neither was I imagining things. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, but I saw everything clearly.
He really wasn’t human, he was something else.
“A werewolf,” I whispered into the dark.
My voice sounded small. Too fragile. I shut my eyes as if that would help erase the truth.
Werewolves didn’t exist. They only belonged in movies, myths, stories and scary legends. Not in y life. They didn’t exist in the middle of a lodge party on Christmas Eve. And not grabbing my ex by his throat and calling me…..
MATE.
I swallowed hard. Every time that word came to my mind, something in my stomach churned. Not out of pain but something else. It was warm and confusing. Something I shouldn’t feel for a stranger.
A stranger with golden glowing eyes and fangs.
“What did he mean by ‘mate’?” I asked myself in a soft whisper. “Why me? Of all people, why me?”
I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t special either. He shouldn’t care about someone like me.
But the way he looked at me was like he knew me. Like he felt something.
That scared me more than the fangs.
I forced myself to sleep, I lay down, staring at the ceiling. My room was quiet, way too quiet. Every single sound in the house made me jump. Every gust of wind made my heart skip.
I pulled the blanket tighter around myself but nothing stopped the cold from spreading through my chest.
Something was wrong, very wrong and I felt it deep down.
Something was wrong with not just him, but with me. Because even when I was terrified of him, even when I knew I should be far away from a dangerous man like me, I still couldn’t forget how I felt when he held my hand. Just for that one moment.
It felt safe, warm, like I had someone watching over me, like I wasn’t alone.
“What is happening to you, Isla?” I whispered.
My heart was racing fast. I placed my palm on my chest to calm my heartbeat. But it only beat harder the more I remembered his deep steady voice, saying my name like it belonged to him.
Isla. I heard his voice again.
I was going crazy. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push him out of my head, but he stayed, his face, voice, eyes.
His fangs.
“No,” I whispered. “Please stop. Leave me alone.”
My mind refused.
I sat up again in frustration. Sleep was impossible. Not tonight and maybe not ever again. My house felt dark, even with all the lights on; it was too quiet. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked gently, trying to calm down.
“You’re okay,” I said shakily. “You’re fine. He’s not here. “You’re home now, you’re safe.”
Was I truly safe?
I had just found out that werewolves existed. I had met one. He knew my name.
He probably knew where I had run. He knew my smell and he had called me his mate.
My chest tightened.
If he could find me before, then he could find me again.
The thought of it made my body shake.
I didn’t know what he wanted. I didn’t know a mate was and I didn’t know what he would do next.
I wasn’t ready for him. I wasn’t ready especially for the pull in my chest.
But I knew one thing for sure. He would come back.
He wasn’t done with me. Not yet.
- Writer
