Chapter 13
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I lie there for hours, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that I’m overreacting. It was just a name. Just a coincidence. Daxon doesn’t know where I am.
Around ten, I hear his bike roar to life and fade into the distance like always. Tristan’s nightly ritual of riding through the countryside to do what I have no clue of. I often wonder what he thinks about during those rides, whether he worries about me the way I worry about him.
Exhausted from the day’s emotional turmoil, I fall asleep almost immediately.
But sleep brings no peace.
I wake up in the middle of the night with my throat parched and my mouth dry as cotton. My dreams have been filled with shadows and red eyes, and I need something to wash away the taste of fear.
Tristan never keeps soft drinks in his fridge, he’s always trying to get me to drink more water, so I decide to make a quick run to the
convenience store down the street.
Just a simple trip. In and out. What could go wrong?
I’m walking back through the dark alley that serves as a shortcut to Tristan’s house when I smell him.
That distinctive scent that once made me feel safe but now makes my skin crawl. Even in the pitch black, I know that smell. My wolf
whimpers inside me, every instinct screaming at me to run.
Daxon.
My blood turns to ice. This can’t be happening. This has to be another nightmare. But the scent is too real, too familiar,
My hands start shaking so badly I drop the soft drink I’ve been carrying. It hits the pavement with a loud crack, the sound echoing off the
alley walls.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here p>
His voice comes from the shadows, low and menacing. I try to run, but he’s faster. He’s always faster. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking me back so hard I think my neck might snap. Pain shoots through my scalp as he drags me deeper into the alley.
“You think you can humiliate me in front of my pack and just run away?” His voice is a snarl, more animal than human. I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and sour.
“You think you can make me look weak and there won’t be consequences? ”
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Chapter 13
*Please, I whisper, hating how small and pathetic my voice sounds. It’s the same voice I’ve used countless times before, the voice of a broken person begging for mercy. No. Forgive me. I promise I won’t try it again. I’ll come back. I’ll do whatever you want p>
the laughs, and the sound makes my blood turn to lce. It’s the same laugh I’ve heard in my nightmares, the one that means pain is
coming
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I’ve never seen him this dangerous before. His eyes are glowing red in the darkness, and my wolf is practically cowering inside me, whimpering like a beaten dog.
“Forgive you? Never. You don’t deserve to be alive. You’re nothing but a worthless little bitch who needs to be taught a lesson p>
His foot connects with my ribs before I can even blink. I hit the ground hard, the air rushing out of my lungs in a painful whoosh.
The pavement is cold and rough against my cheek, and I can taste blood in my mouth. I’m crying, begging, pleading with him to stop, but my words only seem to make him angrier.
Please, Daxon, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll be good. I’ll be obedient. Just please don’t hurt me anymore p>
But he isn’t listening. He never listens. His boot connects with my stomach again, and again, each kick sending waves of agony through my body, 1 curl up in a ball, trying to protect myself, but there’s nowhere to hide.
“Ath p>
That voice. I know that voice.
“Ath, look at me p>
Tristan. Oh god, Tristan is here. He’s come to save me. But this place is so dark, how will he find me? I try to call out to him, but Daxon’s boot connects with my stomach again, and all that comes out is a strangled gasp.
Ath. Look at me p>
I gather every ounce of strength I have left and manage to croak out, “Tristan p>
“Yes. It’s me. I’m here. I’m here.” His voice is gentle but urgent, like he’s scared. Like he’s afraid he might lose me.
“Tristan, don’t let him hurt me anymore,” I sob, my voice coming out in broken gasps. “Tell him to stop. I promise to be obedient. I promise never to go against him anymore. I won’t wear revealing clothes. Won’t go to work either. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be. Tell him please. He should stop please p>
I promise he won’t hurt you anymore. I’ll kill him before he does. Just wake up please. Look at me p>
Wake up?
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Chapter 13
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That’s when I realize my eyes are squeezed shut. I always close them before the first hit, like somehow not seeing it will make it hurt less. It’s a defense mechanism I’ve developed during my time with Daxon, a way to escape even when escape is impossible.
But wait. The kicking has stopped. Someone is holding me, hugging me tight against their chest. I know that scent anywhere, warm and
safe and home. It’s Tristan.
He’s saved me. My Tristan has saved me.
“Tris,” I whisper.
I only call him that when I’m really scared, when I need him most. He’s always there when I need him. Always has been, from the very
beginning.
I called him Tris five years ago when they were lowering our parents‘ bodies into the ground. That terrible day when our whole world changed forever.
“Tris,” I had said, my voice small and lost.
“Yes,” he’d answered, his own voice thick with grief.
“Tris. They’re putting our parents in the grave. We won’t see them again p>
He’d held my hands and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be your father, mother, and brother to you. Even though you won’t see them again, Orion and I will always be here. We’ll always protect you. I swear on my life p>
“Whenever you miss our parents, just call me “Tris.‘ I’ll always be here.” That was the last time I’d called him Tris. Until now.
“I’m here. Always will be. Look at me, Ath p>
I feel a tear drop on my face, mixing with my own tears. When I open my eyes, Tristan is holding me like a shield, protecting me from the
world.
But we aren’t in the dark alley anymore. We’re in my room, on my bed, surrounded by the familiar comfort of home.
It was just a dream. But it had felt so real, so terrifyingly real. The pain, the fear, the helplessness, it had all been so vivid that I can still feel the phantom ache in my ribs.
I hold onto him as I cry, finally letting out all the fear and pain I’ve been carrying alone for so long.
And he just holds me, rocking me gently, whispering reassurances until the trembling stops and I can breathe again.
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.