Chapter 2
1313 Words
Chapter Two
Soleil
The sounds of metal clinking, crisp and ringing, woke me with a weak start. Far from the chilly cold sensation I felt when I first woke up, I feel warmed and comfortable this time.
I opened my eyes and there I saw the tent ceiling and a dim light illuminated inside.
I looked around and saw that the metal clinking sound was from a spoon and fork used by the man who was now looking at me. While eating. My stomach grumbled.
"Hope you don't mind that I ate before you, princess," he said with a smirk and put the spoon on his mouth again. How sarcastic and rude of this rogue. I hate how he rapidly found a nickname for me. Also, I hate the nickname.
The way he chewed the food made my stomach growl in hunger.
"G-Glad I didn't harm you." I tried to speak firmly but it only came as a whisper. The stranger smirked, and if I was not mistaken, I saw a glint of amusement in his eyes.
My throat was dry, dessert dry. Even when I try to swallow my own saliva, it seems I wasn’t producing any.
"Take a sip. There's water beside you." The man said, ignoring what I said.
My hands quickly grasped the cup of water when I saw it, and I gulped it down hard. I saw from the corner of my eye how the man shook his head and continued eating.
After drinking, I suddenly felt ashamed of how unladylike I must have acted. Ugh. The civilized behavior of coming from a pack has faded fast in my system, huh?
Still, I slowly placed the cup back on my side and gently wiped some water that dripped on my lips and throat.
The man's hawk-eyed gaze watched all my actions as he stared at me.
"I saved you some food," he pointed to a table nearby using his fork. "Eat whenever you can." Then he wiped his hand with a washcloth. I couldn't seem to take my eyes from those flexing arms, just by a small gesture. Damn.
I distracted myself by looking around his tent. There was only one bed, or if this could be called a bed.
Sigh. There's no time to be picky, Soleil.
There are two tables. The one in front of him, and one just a few steps away from it. Then there are swords, two of them, hanging in the corner. And a few more knives under it.
"Okay," I managed to say and slowly tried to stand up. My legs are trembling so badly.
I heard a sigh from him, making my eyes snap to his side. The rogue has stood and moved closer to me.
"Here, let me help." Before I could speak, he already grabbed my arm, firm but gentle, as he guided me up and walked me to the table, making me sit on the chair. "It's best for you to eat here than in the bed. Eat slow." Then he left me there.
I watched him walk out of his tent, leaving me alone.
I sighed.
The way he grabbed my arm, there was a kind of warmth that stayed on that part of my skin. It tingles.
Must be from exhaustion. I told myself.
I started eating but chewed slowly. Then it dawned on me. I haven't thanked him yet.
**
It must be a couple of hours since he left me inside the tent. I could hear him a few distances away, chopping wood. I sighed and looked around again. There's a basin of water in another corner, covered in plastic. Definitely full.
"Um, hey," I said, slightly louder, though I know he could hear with his werewolf hearing. "Can I use this water here to wash myself?"
It took a few seconds before I heard his answer. "Use it." Then he continues chopping some wood.
I didn't waste more time and got out of my clothes. Grabbing a hand towel in sight.
This man is not bad at all. He helped me, not at first, but still. He fed me and my mouth hasn't foamed yet, so he didn't poison the food or something. Maybe I'll just have to calm down a bit and stop thinking everybody would harm me or make me go back to where my father think I belonged.
"You done?" A low voice said just outside the tent. I gasped louder than I intended to. I didn't hear his footsteps. Was every rogue move like him?
"Uh-almost."
He acted so calmly, and his movements were careful and precise. He looked like he was trained, but no rogue could have undergone training, right? Well, as far as I know.
Putting my shirt on, I quickly went outside his tent.
The rogue was standing just beside the entrance. Standing firm, with his arms folded on his chest. My nose crinkled upon remembering my guards back at home; he looked just like one.
He looked at me without moving his head, his eyes turned to slits.
"I let you drink my water, eat my food, and let you wash yourself." He turned to face me. "What's with that expression? Water too cold for you, princess?"
I held the groan in my throat. "Can you stop calling me that?" I sighed. "Uh, thank you for everything. I really appreciate it."
He 'hmm' but he doesn't look convinced.
"Your face says otherwise."
"I remembered someone I hate, okay?" specifically Callix. "And I can't control my facial reactions."
He straightened and looked away. "I could see that," then he headed out to pile the wood he had chopped.
I was distracted when he grabbed some wood and his shirt got caught, displaying hard, chiseled abs.
Damn, his body is an art.
I swallowed and looked away. I'm clearly salivating.
"Name?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
"I asked your name." He sighed as if tired of repeating every word he said.
"I'm Soleil."
He continued piling the wood and I let my eyes look at him more. Such eye candy, this man.
"From what pack?"
I paled. "I don't have any."
"I know you'd gone rogue now, but it's clear you had one."
I bit my lip and my silence made him look at me. His eyes, a deep golden brown, change to something close to emerald green when hit by the sunlight. He shook his head, and I knew he understood that I won’t talk about my previous pack.
"How about you?" I changed the topic.
His brow arched and I'm sure he knew I didn't want to talk about my pack.
"What about me?"
"Your name? Your old pack? If you had one, that is."
His jaw tightened and for a moment, I felt a dark aura linger all over him.
So his pack was also an off-limits matter.
"Let's just not talk about our old pack, yeah?" I grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
He licked his lips, looked away, and started piling his woods again. Now, with a bit more force than needed.
Ohhkay. Silent treatment. I think I'm getting the hang of this man's way of conversation. Which is close to zero and nada. Well, this is much better than bumping into someone nosy.
"Your name?" I pry.
He looked at me for a second.
"Quillon." He said in a grunt tone.
Quillon. It's a nice name.
"Protector of the sword." I said, nodding.
His movements halted and his eyes snapped to me. "What?"
"Your name. That's what it means. I love reading and I kind of got obsessed with names and their origin." I sat on a log chair. "Do you know that--"
"Shut up."
"H-Huh?"
He shut his eyes tight and stood up. "Leave now. My hospitality doesn't include a bed for you to sleep tonight."
Did I say something wrong?
- Writer
