436- Morning Blood, Morning Coffee
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
I opened my eyes, confused.
I stared at the wooden ceiling of the place I was in, not recognizing the room. I turned my head to the side, noticing I was resting on a soft pillow that smelled of lilies.
I sat up in one abrupt motion, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The bed beneath me swayed.
I was in a room I had no idea whose it was.
I glanced to the side and stared at the glass door, slightly ajar, overlooking a stretch of tall, endless trees. The sun blazed in the sky, hot and bright. The sound of birds was fuller, as if there were many more of them here than wherever I'd been before. There was also the chirping of small animals.
It felt like a zoo.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, going back over the last few hours, or days. I couldn't say for certain how much time had passed.
When I opened them again, rage coursed through my veins like liquid fire. That damned Eldoria, a complete son of a bitch. He'd kidnapped me.
And judging by the amount of vegetation and wildlife around me, I had to be in his pack's territory.
I couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to do that, to run roughshod over my wishes. We barely even knew each other. Just because he was some powerful alpha didn't mean he got to order me around.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood, testing my body. No weakness, no dizziness.
Something glinted on the nightstand beside me, catching my attention. My dagger lay there, the blade flashing where it caught the sunlight filtering in through the half-open balcony door.
As if it were even possible, the rage I felt grew even further. Leaving me armed only proved how little he worried about me, how irrelevant I was to him.
I leaned over and slid the handle into my palm, closing my fingers around it so tightly that my knuckles went white.
It would be a real shame if Alpha Eldoria didn't care that much about his son's wellbeing, because I'd kill him the first chance I got. If he really mattered that much, then on top of the Merchants, I'd also have some old, powerful, supreme wolf to run from.
What a beautiful pile of shit my life had become.
I'd barely had time to mourn my parents' deaths, to grieve my loss, and already I'd gotten tangled up in enormous problems. Starting with being kidnapped by the very bastard my father had entrusted me to.
It was the height of ridiculous.
But in my defense, I had thrown the silver dagger at him. If he'd been an ordinary wolf, he would have died from the wound. I'd done exactly as I'd been trained and would have succeeded, if they hadn't sent some freakish, upgraded supernatural being to find me instead.
I hoped, from the bottom of my heart, that they hadn't bred too many more like him. Running from an entire pack would be one problem, but now, running from multiple Junior Supremes would be even worse.
I lifted my chin and walked with determined steps toward the door.
I'd find Anton, kill him, or at least try to knock him out, and then I'd flee to plot my revenge and carry on with the life I hadn't planned for myself but would now have to accept.
I turned the doorknob carefully, pulled the door open, and peeked out. There was nothing but an empty hallway, and to my right, a staircase leading down to the floor below.
There were many doors in front of me, but all of them were closed.
Even if I tried to escape through one of them, I was on the second floor and could hurt myself in the fall, so it wouldn't do me any good.
Breathing slowly, I crept out with delicate steps. I went down the first stair, then the next, and the next, careful not to let the wood beneath my feet creak.
In moments like that, I cursed myself for never having taken any interest in getting to know a pack or living among wolves. I wasn't a skilled hunter like they were, nor did I know how to move undetected. Humans didn't have sharp hearing, smell, or sight. It was too easy to hide from them, and from spending so much time in their company, I'd only ever learned to evade weak senses.
The house seemed silent and empty as I stepped onto the last stair. There was a very strong scent embedded in the place, as if it belonged to it. The blend of fresh pine and wild jasmine prevailed, but there was a certain distinction within the smell, as if it belonged to more than one person, and each of them carried a unique, special touch.
Downstairs there was an extensive sofa facing a huge television, inside a room with a fireplace and a side window overlooking the forest. On the other side, an open kitchen. The wooden table was loaded with breakfast treats—that was the only way I noticed the smell of bacon and fresh eggs also lingering in the air.
Dagger in hand, I wandered through the house, confused.
It was sheer audacity on that damned Eldoria's part. Not only had he left me armed, he'd left me alone, proving more and more that he didn't even consider me a remote risk.
In my peripheral vision, I caught a shadow crossing the front doorway. I froze where I stood. Anton appeared in my field of view, freezing the instant he saw me.
I gasped, stunned.
He wore nothing but a pair of shorts. Barefoot, his defined chest bare, he held a cup of coffee close to his lips. I took in the ridges of his abdomen and how they disappeared into the waistband of his dark shorts. He was broad and absurdly good-looking. Blond hair covered the skin at the center of his torso, gleaming against the sunlight pouring in through every opening.
I hadn't realized how much taller than me he was. On his large arms, sculpted with defined muscle, veins pulsed along his forearms, and his thick legs were covered in hair.
As relaxed as he looked, he hardly seemed like a completely lethal supernatural being.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus on what actually mattered, and not on the idiot's chiseled abdomen.
"Morning, little fighter. Sleep well?"
I opened and closed my mouth, incredulous.
"You have some nerve," I growled.
He arched an eyebrow, fixing his blue eyes on me. His pupils dilated, and the silver around them seemed to dance.
"I'll take that as a no," he answered, taking a sip of his coffee. "Help yourself, you must be starving."
I couldn't wait even one more second—I lunged at him, dagger in hand. Anton anticipated my move, setting the cup down on the edge of the table and grabbing my wrist.
"Sweetheart, we can settle this in a friendlier way. It's still early, and I just got out of an intense training session with my brother."