3• Accept what you are
1188 Words
Leia’s POV
Pain flows through my bones.
My eyelids flutter open and even that hurts.
My vision is blurry and it takes a moment for it to clear.
I wake up to emptiness.
A dark room filled with the smell of stale blood.
My mind–a clouded fog.
My body–a sore mess.
How long have I been asleep?
I'm hanging from the ceiling, wrists chained with heavy metal cuffs above my head. The joints in my shoulders and arm are stretched beyond limits.
The sound of metal whining fills the room. The iron bar squeaks open and heavy footsteps stroll into the room.
My senses heighten.
I hear every sound…every smell–that scent again.
This time, I can almost taste it.
It grows closer until it's right in front of me–the source of the scent.
A handsome werewolf. Tsk! I chide myself for noticing.
They look like humans, walk like humans, but are demons underneath–able to shift between man and beast.
“You're awake.” He says coolly, his voice sweet.
But the glint in his eyes speaks a different language. It burns with hot molten rage, like he wants to dig his claws inside me and tear me to pieces just like he did to Sonia.
But there's something else sitting in those blue eyes.
Something warm and tender underneath all the rage–and I find myself drawn to it.
I shouldn't be feeling this way about these animals.
The image of Sonia's death fills my mind.
Tears well in my eyes and I blink them back. But the scent invades my nostrils, alleviating my grief.
“We need to talk.” He says.
Talk? With a monster?
Rage rises in my gut.
I twirl my tongue in my mouth gathering spittle and aim for his face!
His head jerks back from the impact and the shock as my saliva stamps his cheek.
His eyes shut protectively in response to the attack and his face contours in disgust as the liquid rolls down.
Keeping his glare fixed on me, he lifts his hand and wipes his face clean.
It's swift.
I don't see it.
I don't expect it.
His hand flies hard across my face, whipping my head to the side. My hair falls loose and drapes my face.
My lips tear from the impact and my mouth fills with the coppery taste of my blood.
I don't have time to absorb the pain before he hooks his hand under my chin and forcefully yanks my head up to look at him.
I'm staring into him.
Eye to eye–drowning in the depth of his blue eyes.
“I hope you keep this cockiness when I torture the life out of you. I'm not going to kill you. You'll beg to end your life and I won't grant it. I will make you suffer. I'll remind you everyday why you shouldn't live but I won't end your existence. You'll live for me. Only to suffer by my hand.” His tone is flat, holding no force of threats but many promises.
My breathing grows ragged.
My anger rises… but not at him.
I'm mad at myself for feeling the way I do.
My skin tingles sweetly where his hand touches me, spreading delicious warmth through me from the contact.
I should recoil in disgust.
But repulsion is not what I feel.
Desire is what I feel. I want to lean into his touch.
That primal presence pushes forward in my mind.
A purr escapes my lips, shocking me, and causing the man in front of me to yank his hand away.
He flings his fingers like he just touched something forbidden, repeatedly swearing and cussing under his breath.
An inexplicable ache lodges in my heart from the withdrawal. Then the being in my head retreats.
I feel different.
Silence stretches in the room–a quiet battle of the strange feeling coursing between us.
He flares his nose, breath ragged–but his eyes hold warmth. It's like I'm staring at two different personalities in one body.
“You betrayed your kind.” The silence cracks. His voice, deep, rich and heavy with contempt.
I run my tongue over my wounded lip tasting my blood.
“I am not your kind.” I spit, recalling the wolf I killed had said the same thing. “I am Leia Abara, an elite hunter of the human forces. Not the delusion you think I am!”
“Words change nothing. Not who you are–and not what you are.”
I pinch my lips together. He stares at me, his gaze softening with anguish.
“Why did you kill him?” He asks, voice strained with sorrow.
His pain reflects in me and a part of me yearns to comfort him.
No! This isn't what I should feel.
“Because he deserved it! He's a monster just like the rest of you. You all deserve nothing but death. To be stabbed with burning silver and your bodies dipped in a bath of wolfsbane.” I sneer.
He watches me, disbelief evident in his eyes.
“The moon goddess must regret your existence. Cuss your birth!”
“Cuss your moon goddess!” I fire back. “Don't force me to accept what I'm not!” I scoff, ignoring the pain shooting through me as I jerk in anger.
My response ignites a fire in his eyes. His rage boils over. He charges towards me, fury blazing in his eyes.
His voice booms through the room.
Heavy. Forceful.
Packed with a command I must obey.
“Accept what you are!...Shift!”
That being.
That presence.
The force.
Primal. Wide. Raw.
It finds its way to the front of my mind–pushing, pressing to take over.
I can't fight–can’t resist
The strongest wave of dizziness guts me.
My eyes roll back in my head.
My breath drags with strain.
A rush of power invades my bones–Power like I've never felt.
The chain around my wrist snaps and I fall to the ground on all fours.
My muscles tighten, then they enlarge. The hairs on my skin spikes up, growing longer, becoming many–turning to fur.
I want to scream, express my fear at this mind numbing experience.
I part my lips and a howl escapes me instead.
My spine curves. Face changes as my lips grow longer.
It's excruciating.
I howl–long and painful.
Snap!
I'm transformed-into the forbidden.
Standing on all fours, my body is covered in pristine white fur.
Paws and claws replace my hands and feet.
I'm stumbling, staggering in my mind as I search for myself.
I'm inside here somewhere.
I know it.
I sense it.
But I'm trapped–in this wild creature.
I can't get out.
I can't see my body–the body I know.
My human self.
I'm panting in raw fear.
My heart somersaulting haphazardly.
In my confusion and fright, I hear his voice.
Firm.
Resolute.
“This–is what you are.”
- Writer
