CHAPTER 5
1202 Words
SELENE EVANS
“I’m waiting for your answer.”
He dries his hair with the towel before taking a step toward me, but I back away and he looks at me, confused.
“Don’t come near me until I know what you really are.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I don’t know you.”
“People say you’re not human and I thought that was ridiculous, but it looks like they were right.”
Dorian laughs, stepping closer, and I move back, feeling the bed behind me.
“You hit your head and almost died after the explosion, Selene. You’re confused.”
I shake my head and then notice there’s a bandage on my forehead.
My skin is scratched from the impact, but Dorian is still perfectly intact after everything.
That’s not possible.
“I’m not crazy, I know what I saw!”
He stops in front of me, studying me.
“I know you want answers, and you deserve them. But not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because people like you wouldn’t understand...”
I frown, and before I can insist, he turns and walks toward the door.
“I’m glad you’re okay. Rest.”
“Wait!”
I run after him and see him enter some kind of private library in the mansion.
“Go back to the room and rest, Selene.”
I roll my eyes.
“Stop it.”
He takes a step toward me.
“You’re safe here. It’s better if you stay.”
“I’m not an animal to be kept in captivity!” I shout.
“I have a life, Dorian!”
He raises an eyebrow.
“You have a psycho ex-fiancé on the loose who tried to kill you hours ago. Do you really think you can just go back to your life like nothing happened?”
I cross my arms, feeling my chest rise and fall too fast.
“You’re not going to tell me what you are?” I keep insisting.
He sighs, looking away.
“It’s safer for you not to know.”
“Safer for who? For me or for you?”
He gets so close I feel the insane heat radiating from his body against mine.
His scent surrounds me — something between burnt wood and wet earth. He leans in, brushing his lips against my ear.
“Stay here, Selene. Just for today. Tomorrow… I’ll see what to do with you.”
My knees almost give out, but I pull away.
“I’m not something you get to decide what to do with.”
“I’m your husband...”
“By accident, not by choice...” I whisper, staring into his eyes.
He says nothing, and I sigh, pulling away and leaving the library.
After that, I don’t see him again in the house.
No sign. The silence becomes almost suffocating. Then I grab my phone, sit on a couch near the fireplace, and start typing compulsively.
“Dorian Graves.”
No useful information besides the same financial news I had already read. Billionaire CEO, mysterious businesses. Nothing more.
Then I add some words:
“people with golden eyes, very warm skin, strong bodies, survive gunshots.”
The results send a chill down my spine.
Articles about legends. Lycanthropy. Ancient stories about men turning into werewolves. Superhuman strength. Abnormal body heat. Eyes that glow under the moon.
I close the phone, trembling. No… this is crazy. Werewolves don’t exist. They don’t.
I keep walking around the mansion, growing more obsessed.
I climb the wide staircase, the cold handrail beneath my fingers. Then I see a slightly open door.
I push it gently. Enter.
It’s his bedroom.
A strong, woody scent hits me right in the face.
My heart races so fast I feel it pounding in my neck. I walk through the room, open the closet door.
There, hanging, are expensive clothes… but many are bloody or torn. One shirt has a hole in the chest, with dried blood stains. The exact spot where Jasper shot.
My hands start to shake.
Near the closet, a desk is covered with papers, books. Leather-bound titles. I pull some closer.
Lycanthropy.
My heart races even more.
Then I find a black notebook, closed with an elastic band. I remove the band, open it. The handwriting is firm, masculine. It’s his.
“I need to stay in control. I can’t transform near her.”
“Her scent is getting stronger. I need to stay away.”
“It’s almost impossible not to mark her as mine.”
I swallow hard. My fingers go cold.
“I see you’re a curious person.”
I’m so startled I almost drop the notebook. I turn around quickly.
Dorian is standing at the door, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on me. His eyes glow with a golden shine, like molten gold.
“You…” my voice falters.
“You owe me answers, Dorian!”
He sighs, walking toward me.
“Selene, I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t? You survived two bullets to the chest! No human does that!”
He stares at me, jaw tense.
“Please stop searching, Selene. It’s safer for you if you don’t know.”
“Screw safety!” I explode.
“You dragged me into this! You… you married me! I need to know what — or who — you are!”
Dorian gets so close I feel the heat of his body through my skin.
He holds my face, his large fingers brushing my jaw. His voice comes out low, rough, almost animalistic:
“Do you really want to know what I am?”
“Yes.”
He brings his mouth to my ear. The heat of his breath makes me shiver.
“Do you believe in werewolves, Selene?”
It feels like the world collapses beneath my feet. My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
“You… you’re joking with me.”
He brushes his thumb across my lips.
“I wish it were a joke.”
“Werewolves are myths. Legends parents tell their children at bedtime.” I whisper, and he smiles, shaking his head.
“That’s why you wouldn’t understand if I told you the truth.”
“You’re telling me you’re a werewolf? A hairy creature that transforms on a full moon and howls?”
“I admit, your imagination is funny.” he laughs, and I take a deep breath, trying to control myself.
I try to back away, but he traps me against the desk, his body pressed to mine.
“Dorian… let me go.”
“No.” His tone is low, almost a growl.
“Tell me the truth or I’ll leave.” I demand, and he presses his body closer against mine.
“You’re not walking out that door until it’s safe for you.”
His words should make me furious. But my body betrays me, pulsing under his touch.
“You’re some kind of… monster.” my voice comes out in a whisper.
He nuzzles my neck, breathing in my scent.
“Maybe. But I’m the monster who’s going to keep you alive.”
- Writer
