Chapter 24 What creature is that?
Auren's pov
I duck back down the moment I see it.
My heart slams into my ribs so hard it aches.
What in the Goddess’ name was that?
I press myself against the wall, trembling. I don’t dare look outside again. The image is still burning in my vision. A wolf’s head on something that looks like a man but seems all wrong, like a nightmare comes alive in daylight.
After what feels like hours, a knock hits the door and I jump so hard my teeth clack.
“Auren. Open the door. It’s me.”
Alpha Dravik’s voice came through.
I stay frozen. My body refuses to move out of my corner even though my mind is screaming at me to answer. I can’t hear the rest of what he says, my pulse is too loud.
The bolts on the door feel like the only thing keeping the world out, blessing or not.
I watch the door with my breath held and see as the handle turns, severally.
“Auren.” His voice lowers. “I know you saw but it's been dealt with. You’re safe now. Open up.”
Something in the way he says “Safe” unties the knot in my spine. Not fully, just enough.
I push myself up on shaky legs and glance out the window first. Everywhere is empty now. The wolves are gone and the twisted beast is nowhere in sight.
I drag myself to the door, my fingers clumsy on the bolts as they scrape back slowly.
The door moves before I’m ready. He pushes it open with one hand and slides the chair I jammed under the handle out of the way like it weighs nothing. His eyes sweep the room once, not commenting on the chair by the door or the couch I had moved to create a barricade.
He doesn’t have to. I already feel ridiculous.
Between shifting back from his wolf form to human form he had grabbed a pair of white shorts. They hang low on his hips and show every carved line of muscle on his stomach. The color of the shorts makes his bronzed skin stand out, looking even warmer.
I look away fast because the thoughts running through my head are not decent.
Not for someone who came here seeking protection. Not for someone who shouldn’t be noticing a man’s hips or skin or anything.
What is wrong with me lately? I’ve never had thoughts like this, not even as a teenager.
I move back toward the window trying to collect my thoughts..
“What… what was that?” My voice stutters, desperate to think of something else.
“We don’t know,” he says.
That answer chills me more than the creature’s face did.
“You… don’t know?” I stare at him. “You’re the Alpha.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You killed it.”
“Yes. It was about to attack people from my pack.”
I swallow hard. “It looked… strange.” The image turns my stomach. “It had the head of a wolf…”
“I know.”
“And the body was almost human but covered in hair.” I lift my gaze to him. “What could that be?”
“It’s dead now. Don’t worry about it.”
Don’t worry?
How am I supposed to not worry when the most dangerous man I’ve ever met doesn’t even know what it was?
“From the looks of it, Silverveil will have to wait, for now,” He steps past me and lifts the chair, setting it back by the window.
“Did you really think this chair would protect you?” His tone holds a faint edge of amusement.
I shrug. It made sense at the time.
“I think it’s time to enroll you in our training classes.”
“Training classes?” I echo.
He nods. “Most kids learn as they grow. Since you didn’t finish schooling, you missed the basics. I want to also get you a personal tutor too.”
A tutor.
Training.
Me?
“You want me to train with your pack?”
He straightens from the chair. “Not with my pack. They’re too advanced, even the kids would have an advantage over you with their higher sense of hearing, strength and instinct. You’ll train with me.”
“M… me? With you?”
“Yes. With me. I can control myself better than anyone else. And if you land a hit on me, my instincts won’t force me to hit you back.”
My stomach twists. I spent years learning to close my eyes whenever I see a fist coming and now, he wants me to stand in front of it on purpose?
How does he think I’ll manage that?
How does he think he will be able to train me?
“Right now?” I ask, on the edge of panic.
“No.” He shakes his head. “We will give it a few days. I want your wounds to heal and start scarring. My plan isn't to land you in the hospital again.”
My hand moves to my stomach on instinct. I can feel the stitches through the fabric. The skin still feels tender and sore. A reminder of everything I barely escaped.
His eyes lower to my hand, then rise to my face. “Are you still in pain?”