CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 47
BLAIR

Today.

Blood was dripping from the corners of my lips, and my whole body ached. I could still feel the heat of the blows on me, but there was nothing I could do. My insides hurt more than the outside, and yet, I could only keep thinking about three things I would always be certain of first, I would love Eros for the rest of my days; second, I would love Dalton Black even in death; and third, I would always give everything for my family.

Three months earlier.

One thing was certain: Russia was colder than my home. The truth was, it had terrible weather, too extreme. Just stepping off the plane, my body was already shivering and my teeth chattering.

I couldn't believe what I had done. I had left my home, my partner, and my family, but it was already too much pressure. Surely, I had put many people like Elliot, Deborah, and many others in trouble, and I'm sure Dalton will take revenge. But I won't wait to see what those demon witches can do to my son.

I approach the airport carousel to pick up my luggage. Suddenly, a smell catches my attention. It smells like testosterone, and only werewolves have such a strong scent. I cautiously lift my gaze and see a man dressed entirely in black, trench coat and all, staring at me intently. He has completely white skin and black hair.

I grab my suitcase and place it on the ground, taking the opportunity to turn my face to the right. I see another man with the same characteristics, except this one doesn't emit the same scent as the other, so I know he's human. Moreover, he's African-American.

Who the hell are these people?

I lean towards the other suitcase, and this time I turn my face to the other side. There's another woman there, but she has... pink hair? Yes, it's pink. She's clad in a tight black leather suit, and for a moment, I envy how good she looks. But then I remember that they're here for a reason, and I doubt it's a good one. She has the scent of progesterone, so she's also a werewolf.

I grab the handles of my two suitcases and walk in the clear direction, but I quicken my pace when I see the woman starting to walk behind me, and I assume the other two are doing the same.

I practically run through the airport to escape from these people I have no idea who they are. I manage to reach the doors and step outside, hoping to find an available taxi, but I see nothing among all the people outside speaking Russian.

Someone grips my arm tightly, and I instantly stop due to the pain.

"Can you cooperate and come with us willingly?" whispers a male voice with a strong accent in my ear.

I don't smell anything, so I deduce it's the African-American man.

"Why don't you fuck off?" I say and thrust my head backward, managing to hit him.

I free myself from his grip and start moving among the people, trying to find an officer or a damn taxi. Adrenaline rushes through my body, and at one point, I feel like I can take off my coat and not feel the cold weather.

My hair moves with the rhythm of the wind, and I turn my face to see the white-skinned man making his way through the crowd to reach me. I move faster and faster, I go out onto the street where cars pass, and I quickly get into a passing taxi. I don't care if it's occupied or not, I just get in. But as soon as I close my door and can see the person sitting in the seat, the door on the other side opens, and they grab him by the neck, pulling him out of the car.

When I'm about to open my door, someone grabs my arm.

"I just want to help you," says a female voice.

"Yeah, right," I say sarcastically, trying to open the door. "Your friends wanted to help too, I'm sure."

"No. You can tell I'm American; I'm kind of like an ambassador. I want to help make this as brief as possible for you."

"Sure, and I'm supposed to trust you just because of your accent."

"No, but I know these guys are going to take you no matter what happens. You should go on your own," she says while looking back.

"Who's looking for me?" I think at that moment of Dalton, but I push him away.

"The alpha of the area," she says, looking me in the eyes.

"Tell him I won't cause any trouble," I say exasperated.

"It's better if you tell him yourself," she says, giving the taxi driver an address.

"Yeah, sure. See you later," I open the taxi door, and it stops at that moment.

We're on a busy street, with many shops and big brand advertisements. I run among the people and glance back to see the two men in trench coats running in my direction. Suddenly, they grab me by the neck and pull me back, pressing my back against the body of the one who is a werewolf by the scent, but he's not one of the guys from the airport.

I bring my hands to his arm that is around my neck, and his lips are close to my ear. I feel the edge of what I suppose is a knife against my stomach. I swallow saliva and try to move as little as possible.

"If you move, I'll end your life in a second," a voice with a pronounced Russian accent whispers.

"Who are you?" I ask in a whisper.

"Gavrel Gennadi, the alpha of these lands," he says with a deep voice.

"Pleasure to meet you, my name is Blair," I say with a voice full of nerves and laughter.

Slowly, he removes the knife from my stomach, and my body relaxes. He takes a firm hold of my arm and guides me to the edge of the sidewalk, avoiding the people walking by without caring that they are forcibly taking a pregnant woman.

A van parks and a man named Gavrel opens the door, pushing me inside. I try to open the door again, but the driver seems to anticipate my thoughts and secures it, hiding the button completely.

The opposite door opens, and Gavrel sits in the seat next to me. For the first time, I have the opportunity to see him. He is a tall man, about six feet three. His hair is blond-brown, leaning more towards blond, and slicked back. He has almost aqua-colored blue eyes and delicate features. If he hadn't threatened me with a knife, I would probably trust him.

"You can start by telling me who you are," he says in a harsh tone.

"I told you a few minutes ago," I reply, trying to stay close to the door.

"The whole story. Whose daughter and moon are you?" he insists.

"I'm just a werewolf woman," I respond with a sarcastic smile.

He gives me a stern look, and my body shivers instantly.

"I won't cause trouble in your territory," I whisper.

"I want to know who you are and what you're doing here," he asserts.

"I'm here by choice," I vaguely respond.

"Sure," he nods without being convinced. "I have the heir and the moon of an alpha. Imagine all I could do with that," he says coldly, sending a chill down my spine.

"If you come near my son, I'll kill you with my claws," I say angrily. I ran away from home to protect my son, and I won't allow any harm to come to him elsewhere.

"Sure, you're an alpha," he comments without showing a hint of amusement or anything that gives me a bit of confidence.

"We've arrived, sir," the driver interrupts. The van stops instantly, and the door is opened almost immediately.

A man tries to grab my arm, but I free myself before he can. I growl at him and step out alone. "Don't you dare touch me," I warn him sternly. I put my feet on the asphalt, and an airport employee approaches me.

"Did they hurt you?" she asks with concern.

"Believe me, if they had hurt me, they wouldn't be alive," I reply angrily, covering my stomach with my coat.

"Stop talking to her," one of the airport men says.

We enter the mansion, and immediately the warm artificial air from the heating system fills the air. Everyone follows Gavrel, going in different directions. Only the airport staff and I follow behind him.

The house is one of those old Victorian-style mansions, with walls made of pure mahogany wood and intricate details embedded in it. Red and mahogany tones are the main colors here.

Gavrel opens the door to what appears to be a basement, or worse, a torture chamber. But it's not like Mr. Grey's, it looks more like a torture room. But what am I thinking? Fortunately, it turns out to be just an office. As soon as we all pass through the door, it closes.

One of the men removes one of the chairs in front of the desk, walks around the desk, and sits in the main chair.

"I want to know who you are, what you're doing here, and where you come from," he commands instead of asking.

"I'm just someone looking for a fresh start," I impatiently respond.

"Damn it, I want the truth," he says, pounding the table.

"Why can't you treat me like a normal person?" I ask, raising my voice slightly.

"Because you're not a normal person," he says shaking his head. "Should I remind you that you're a werewolf?" he adds sarcastically, which annoys me a lot at this moment.

"I'm not going to endanger your territory," I say angrily, standing up a little from the seat.

"Yeah, sure, you're not going to do it. Tell me who you are," he says even angrier than me.

I stand up completely, and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my face so that my chin almost touches my shoulder, and I see a human.

"Remove your hand if you don't want me to rip it off," I say through clenched teeth. The man slowly removes his hand.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to do that," he replies.