Chapter 3
1611 Words
Chapter Three
Soleil
"Let me help you with this." I grabbed an armful of wood, piling them where his stack was. With my chin up, I pretended I didn't hear his words. Okay, I can do this. Or I should, since staying with him is the better thing to do than to wander around like a lost pup.
"Didn't you hear what I said?"
Of course, I heard him. Loud and clear. But it doesn't mean I couldn't force myself in his care--maybe s***h that care thingy, he doesn't really give a damn about me. But I need a place to be, and so far, I feel safe with Quillon.
"I did."
He let out a frustrated groan and the hairs on my nape rose. Damn, his deep and low sound made me shiver. "Then, what are you doing?"
I grabbed more woods, hugged them to my chest, and then I faced him.
His deep golden brown eyes welcomed me, and I was lost for words. The way his face darkened from irritation just does things to me. It doesn't scare me; if anything, it drew me more to him.
"I'm helping." I walked towards his stack but he blocked my way. He really is big. Not the overly bulked kind of big, but his wide shoulders were enough to wash away the background. Don't get me started with that chest. Damn, it looked so hard that I didn't need to touch it to know I was right.
"I don't need your help. I want you to leave."
My gaze went to his eyes and only then that I notice I was gawking at his body.
"I don't want to leave," my voice was low but I managed to make it firm. He was about to speak but I continued. "I know I have no right to force my stay, but I'm desperate. I'd do anything. I'll help you around here, cook you food, hunt, whatever you want me to do. Just please let me stay."
The way he looked down at me made his authority clear. He didn't even make a face, so I couldn't read if my words got to him.
We stayed silent. He might be measuring the situation, and I'm clearly praying for all the gods and goddesses to let this man give me some mercy.
"No."
Of course, my prayers aren't heard.
I stepped back to get a good look at him and he exhaled.
"Come on, please! Just for a few days-"
His jaw clenched. "No."
I narrowed my eyes. "You can't make me go. You don't own the forest."
His brow arched. "But I own my tent, child."
I gasped and my eyes widened. "I'm not a child!" I swear, smoke came out of my nose. I hate being called a child and being treated like one. I had it back on my pack, and I'm not letting Quillon treat me like one now.
"That's what a child would say."
"I'll be eighteen soon!"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Like I said, a child."
There's no way I'd be considered a child for my age. Every werewolf knew that eighteen was the age of adulthood. Doesn't he know this because he was a rogue? But I swear, I believe he got a pack before. Did he leave too young? Didn't he have educational lessons about ages, mates, and the sort?
I stomped my feet as I walked towards his wood stack and threw the wood there. Turning around to face him, I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Look, it seems you don't know a thing about werewolf stuff, so let me educate you. Eighteen is not a child, it's a fruitful age. When she-wolves turn eighteen, they can find their mate and bear a pup. Child wouldn't do that, right? So again, I'm not a child, I'm an adult."
He copied my stance, crossing his arms on his chest and my eyes betrayed me for looking at his biceps as it tightened. Damn, why does that look so good?
"You said you'll be eighteen soon, right? So you're not an adult yet. Why don't you come back and lecture me once you hit the right age, child?"
The way sarcasm rolled off his tongue when he said the last word made my anger charged.
It's my birthday tomorrow. I'd be eighteen tomorrow, but he doesn't need to know that.
I placed my hands on my hips. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay here."
His jaw tightened again. Did I mention how hot his sharp jaw looked?
"Alright." He exhaled loudly. "Stay. But don't you dare come close to me or my tent or else..." He gave me a hard look from head to toe. His eyes narrowed, darkening from whatever threat he refused to voice out.
Without another word, he turned and walked to his tent.
"Oh, I won't!" I yelled. I really won't come to his tent. The day is young, and I can walk around and look for materials to make my own shelter. I could build my own little room with wood that the forest could certainly supply, right?
I looked at the pieces of wood lying on the ground.
"But I'll take the scraps of wood here--"
"Don't even dare, child."
I groaned and stomped away, heading to the deep forest with a mission to build my own shelter.
Back on my pack, I didn't entirely live as a princess despite being the daughter of a high-ranking Alpha. I used to sneak out a lot, travel around the pack and join multiple activities. Woodwork is simple for me. Though it would be a challenge without any tools but I'll figure it out.
Tomorrow is the day I'll open a new world of my own. Technically, I could find my mate, the one fated only for me. But without the mapping ceremony, which an enchantress will point out which pack my mate resides, I don't know how I'd find him.
But it isn't called fate without a reason, right? I'm sure fate will do its job and I'll meet my mate. Eventually.
You must be wondering why my father was arranging a marriage for me, right? Well, our family is different. My father is powerful enough that when he blessed any wolf to be my mate, we would have a bond like true fated ones should have. And I would be able to bear his pup.
But I abhor the act. I watched other werewolves from our pack to find their own mate, the magic in the process of it always amazed me. It was magical, something I’d love to happen to me one day. When the time is right, and when I find the one. The one for me.
**
After hours of looking for materials and building my own tent, I managed to make a little shelter of my own. Although 'little' must be an overstatement. I think I'll fit inside, but I would be sleeping in an uncomfortable, fetal position.
Fuck. Great at woodwork, huh, Soleil?
I can't help it. There were no tools to cut trees, and the branches I found were either too thin ot too short. This is the best I could do.
It doesn't matter. At least I'll have a roof over my head for tonight. Sighing, I eyed Quillon's tent. How did he make it like that? It's spacious, high-ceilinged, and looks sturdy. I won't call it a tent at all.
Whatever. Mine is cute and it'll do.
I stepped backwards, taking in my work. I could add bark sheets for the roof, the pine branches aren't enough if rain comes.
Stepping back again, I got a good view of my tent in comparison with Quillon's.
Damn it. Mine looks like a dog house.
I took a step back again, but gasped when a familiar warmth enveloped my skin as my back hit a hard chest. I felt my foot was stepping on his, and heat flooded my cheeks. I spun around as if burned, the sudden motion stealing the air right out of my lungs when I met his eyes.
"Oh, hi!" I chuckled awkwardly and looked away, taking another step back, since his large body felt like he was taking more of my personal space.
His jaw tightened as he looked down at me. Honestly, his height makes him look rude from down here.
His eyes gazed past me, arching a brow as he looked at my artwork.
"I know it's not that big, but I'll make renovations tomorrow so-" I scratched my brow. "Yep."
He looked at me again but didn't say a word. It was awkward; he was awkward. The silence was enough to make me uneasy but the way he stared at me pinned me in place.
Clearing my throat, I looked over his shoulder.
"Uh, I saw a river nearby. I'll fish later, do you wanna join me?"
I waited for his answer without looking at his eyes again but none came, so I turned my heel.
"Alright. Nice talk, neighbor."
"I told you not to use my wood." He said. His voice was low and deep, and I almost jumped from how it echoed in the trees. He didn't yell the words but the timbre of his voice does the same effect.
"Uh," I cleared my throat and looked away. "Oh! It's getting late! I'll be at the river, neighbor!"
I quickly run away from him, grabbing my backpack as I head to where the river is.
Those are just scraps, for God's sake! Well, it doesn't change the fact that it isn't mine, but still.
- Writer
