314- Human
POV Viktor Averwyn:
When she ran into the blue house, I almost did something reckless by chasing her.
It would be easy to rip every one of those gypsies out of the way if they tried to stop me. And to break down the door that had been slammed shut when the gypsy women disappeared inside with her.
I even took a few steps, driven by the primal instinct to have her, shocked by the need that had instantly formed inside me. Then I felt her fear in the air—and all of theirs—desperate, not knowing what to expect.
By a sliver of control, I stopped, part of my rationality returning. Then, furious, nearly out of my mind, I turned toward the forest. And ran away.
Who was she? She came from that same blue house where the mad dream with the woman had once sent me. The same house where Jasmina had lived fifty years ago. Fuck! It had to be a trap for me!
I retraced my path back home. But I stopped halfway, in the Tharnak forest, trying to think, to understand. The scent of lilies still intoxicated me, my thoughts short-circuiting.
I walked, seeing through the darkness, hearing the insects fall silent, other animals fleeing. Images came in a chaotic flood. Blood staining a snow-covered valley, a house in flames, fire spreading. The woman with long black hair calling me son. The little boy with Edric’s eyes.
What the fuck was real?
Now that human drew me with an overwhelming force, in that same village that had always pulled me closer. From where I had taken women, where I thought I had found my destined mate. My dead wife.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
I punched a tree trunk hard, my hand sinking into the solid surface, opening a hole with the crack of breaking things. Bones, splinters. I didn’t care about the pain. I pulled my bloodied fist free, small bones exposed. They snapped back into place instantly, healing.
I wished that horrible tightness in my chest would vanish as well, but it followed me with every step toward the mountain. Doubts and questions everywhere. Hatred purging through me.
I froze suddenly, every hair on my body standing on end. Fear. The scent of overwhelming fear reached me, as if a scream came from far away, even though I was surrounded by silence.
On instinct, I turned and ran. Not toward home, but toward the gypsy village. As fast as I could, driven by an intense alert, a premonition.
It was as if everything was repeating itself, like that time twenty-two years ago, when I woke suddenly from a dream of the woman I believed to be my mother, her screaming that I had to save my destined mate. I had left the bed already transforming, driven to find that house without any rational thought. Pure instinct.
It was nothing more than a man looking at me through the window, terrified. And even thinking I might be making the same mistake, I couldn’t stop.
Something far stronger drove me, and my beast acted—my claws extending, my fangs as well. My heart pounded violently in my chest. I leapt, flew, avoided trees and obstacles, circled the Sibiu forest.
Her scent grew stronger, along with another. Familiar, something I had sensed once in my life. But I couldn’t place it, too focused on understanding what was happening. The sense of danger increased, and I reached the village—but I didn’t enter. The scent pulled me ahead, and I continued through the vegetation.
A murderous fury consumed me when my burning eyes revealed the shocking scene before me.
Konrad was attacking the woman who wouldn’t leave my thoughts, half transformed, growling. He grabbed her hair and hurled her violently against a tree.
I growled so loudly the air trembled, the echo exploding through the trees. She hit her head and spun, weak, slow, falling. Blood streamed from her forehead, soaking her face in vivid red.
I leapt so high he only had time to turn, his eyes glowing blue with shock when he saw me. I attacked, my massive, sharp claws tearing through the flesh of his chest, blood spraying. He screamed, fighting back, injuring my arm. He fell rolling, and I wanted—more than ever—to kill him.
The bastard got up and ran into the forest, and I went after him, but my vision filled with her blood and dread engulfed me when I thought she might be dead. Or dying.
I stopped abruptly, part of me screaming to catch and destroy him, the other fearing returning too late and losing her. I let him go. I would deal with the bastard later.
I didn’t think about anything else, running back, my heart racing so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. I skidded over dirt and leaves, retracting my claws, growling at the absurd amount of blood already soaking her skin and clothes.
I knelt beside her, pulling her into my arms, scenting her. Weak pulse, completely unconscious. But still alive.
I brushed the hair away from the viscous liquid clinging to it. Her skull seemed cracked, one side of her face already swelling, her forehead bearing an ugly wound where blood poured out.
I gathered saliva and spat directly into the opening, letting it seep in. I did it again and again. Then I began to lick, using my healing gift to close the wound. And to let the saliva start working from the inside as well.
The blood was sweet—it shook me with fear for her life and much more. I howled, furious, out of control. And I licked until the cut closed and the blood stopped pouring. I ran my tongue over the scratches and swelling too, more focused as I saw it working.
She was alive, unconscious. Konrad had almost killed her. If I had arrived one second later, that’s exactly what would have happened.
I didn’t stop to think about anything else. With my heightened hearing, I caught screams and panic coming from the nearby gypsy village.
I rose with her in my arms, her long hair hanging down, her head nestled against my chest. I held her protectively and ran toward the Tharnak, alert to every sound, to a possible attack from Konrad. But I didn’t catch his stench.
The coward had fled. He only had the courage to attack defenseless women.
As I cut through the vegetation at full speed, reason returned, bringing more questions and doubts.
Why? What was he doing there? Had he been drawn by her scent too?
I focused more. That’s when I recognized her scent on his clothes during the meeting in Noctheria. They knew each other. They were involved.
Then, as I advanced toward home, I focused on the smell I had sensed when I got close to them, after the premonition. That familiar one, which I hadn’t immediately recognized, mixed with the human’s scent. His beast’s scent.
Memories came back vividly.