CHAPTER 7: Red Hair, Red Eyes
Alora’s POV
I pushed her away with all the force I could muster. “What are you doing”? I screamed, and my hand went to my chin to inspect for blood, but thankfully, there was none.
I could swear I saw her eyes flash red as she stumbled backwards from my push and gasped.
“What are you really? “ She growled, advancing towards me. She looked menacing with her angry face, her blonde hair covered part of her face while her whole body vibrated with anger.
Who were these people? Why were they acting weird? What was with me today really? I couldn’t stop being violent, but that was expected given I was taken from my home against my wish.
“I do not owe you any explanation” I replied, holding her stare. Before I could process what was going on, she pinned me down on the bed, and knelt close with one knee between mine. Then she sniffed at me like a wild beast. I flinched and turned my face away.
“Your scent is not entirely that of a werewolf, and it is not that of a human either”, she said, surprise evident in her features.
“I don't understand what you mean by that. Besides, how would you know how werewolves smell?” I asked, furrowing my brows.
As I turned to her, I couldn't help but take in her features. In proximity, I realized she was not all that gorgeous as I thought at first, but she had an air of grace and sophistication about her.
Okay, she was gorgeous. Who was I kidding?
With her short fiery red hair, and brown eyes that give her an air of mystery, and the fact that she was thick with all her curves in the right place.
I could see why Morgan was taken with her and I did not know why the thought made me envious of her. She was the epitome of everything I ever wanted growing up. She had a gorgeous body that any man would die for compared to me, who was skinny and unappealing.
"I don’t know what you are or why you’re here, but I’m here to warn you to stay away from my man”, she shrieked in that annoying voice of hers.
“I really do not understand all the words coming out of your mouth right now, but trust me, I do not want your man. All I want is to get out of here "I replied, struggling to push her away and sit up, but she didn't even budge.
“Liar” she growled and then, all of a sudden, she froze in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, but before I could process any of that, she got off me and stood beside the bed staring down at me.
“I'll be back and by the time I'm back, you had better find yourself out of this pack, you're not welcome here” she spat before walking out of the room and slamming the door shut with a bang.
I sat up and stared at nothing in particular, thinking about the ordeal I've gone through in the last twenty-four hours. I finally pushed myself off the bed, my body stiff and aching. My eyes roamed the room, really seeing it for the first time.
It was a large room. I was not supposed to be here because it didn't fit. The bathroom alone was bigger than my entire room back in the slum where I lived, while the entire room was bigger than the room I shared with ten other children at the orphanage.
The walls were painted in an off-white color. The heavy drapes were in deep purple and white flower patterns sprinkled across them, and it was draped so that you could barely see anything from the outside.
The bed was covered in rich purple velvet satin bed sheets that screamed luxury, a word I had never experienced all my life. Above the mantle was a massive, cracked mirror that warped my reflection, making me look even more lost and hollow than I felt.
My mind whirled, trying to piece together a plan. The door was out of the question because it seemed she locked it, or worse, someone was probably standing guard.
The window, maybe? I stumbled toward it, peeling back the curtains carefully. My heart sank. I was at least three stories high, with nothing but rough stone walls beneath. No ivy, no drain pipes, no hope.
Pacing back toward the bed, I scanned the room again for hidden doors, loose floorboards, anything.
My eyes flickered to a small table near the window, with two high-backed chairs that looked about as comfortable as sitting on a pile of rocks. Maybe there were tools, something sharp? I rushed over and pulled open the drawers…nothing. Empty, as if mocking me.
Biting my lip, I turned back toward the door. There was no use trying to escape from this place. I just needed to be smart and bid my time until I could get out of here. It was not as if anybody was waiting outside for me.
Then a flickering moment, my mind drifted to Matron Hope, the one person that made me feel human…the matron of the orphanage where I grew up.
I thought of her sharp voice softening only when she thought no one was looking. I hadn't thought of her... God, how long has it been? Guilt and shame washed over me in waves.
She was the only person close to family that I had in this world and the only person that would cry if something happened to me. I needed to reach out to her, but I didn't know how.
Sighing, I slumped down onto the chair by the table. My body was tired, heavier than I remembered it being, as if whatever strange force ruled this place was seeping into my bones. I rubbed my temples, trying to think.
Maybe I could pretend to be sick. Trick someone into opening the door. Or maybe I could break the window and risk the fall... My head began to ache just considering it.
My mind kept racing, planning, discarding ideas almost as fast as they came. I blinked slowly, staring at the drapes.
My body sagged further into the chair without me realizing it. The room blurred slightly around the edges. I was so tired. Maybe if I could just relax a bit in the chair I would feel much better.
The last thing I remembered was tracing a line on the table with my fingertips, following the patterns of the old but rich wood as they twisted and curled like rivers on a map leading nowhere.
And then everything slipped quietly into darkness.
I needed to escape.
I will find a way out.
I had to.