Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 11 (✓*)

I whirled. He looked different in the sunlight. Sheer shadows framed the outlines of his face, his sharp jawline and perfect brows demanding attention of the eye. Dark strands sucked up every inch of light, and not even the searing Californian sun managed to lay a glint on his head. Where his face lacked light his eyes made up for in leagues, the blues brimming with that unnatural glow. He was the perfect picture of ethereal, of power and grace. A being not to be crossed.

I was too upset to care.

"The hell would you know about any of this?" I hissed, unable to hide the cracks in my voice. I knew I shouldn't be rude to someone so powerful, and I could almost hear my mother's scalding words at the back of my head, but I didn't have it in me to stop.

He didn't respond. For a long moment, he just stared at me with a slight tilt of the head, as though I were an interesting specimen in a lab. The thought boiled my blood, but then a fleeting thought crossed my mind. Experiment.

"You... you did this to me," I stammered, pointing a shaky finger at him. "You bit me last night!"

That gleam of curiosity turned to one of pity. "I believe you're mistaken, dear," he assured, voice far too calm for my liking. "I was not the one who bit you. That would have been a different Alpha."

What did he mean by 'Alpha'? And why did his words seem so genuine? It didn't matter, I decided. I waved my hands, as though to shoo him away. A small part of me believed that, maybe, if I could get him to leave, perhaps all my problems would leave along with him. Another part of me knew that was absurd, for nothing ever just resolved itself in my life, but I was too hysterical to care. "Just go. Please!"

He didn't move. I staggered to my feet, fighting the sting of tears. "Go!" I repeated, hating the cracks in my voice. I turned my back and broke into a run, hoping he wouldn't follow. I wasn't sure what to do. Find Alia? What if she didn't remember me? What would I do then?

I pushed the thought out of my mind, charging ahead. I had to run. If not to get away from him, then for the sake of moving. If I stopped, I wasn't sure I would ever find the strength to move again.

My back straightened as I felt Azriel's dark presence settle in stride beside me. It unnerved me how I hadn't heard his approach, how easily he'd caught up despite my break-neck speed. Then again, I shouldn't have turned my back on a werewolf in the first place. "Darling, please listen," he reasoned.

"No," I ground out, eyes brimming with tears. I slowed to a walk, my muscles reeling in agony. "I need to find my friend."

"She won't remember you," the male said softly.

I stopped, whirling to face him. I didn't care how ugly I must've looked, with dishevelled hair and blood-shot eyes, with fat tears carving rivers down my cheeks. "She has to remember me," I whispered, voice cracking with every syllable. "If she doesn't, then I... I don't know what I'll do."

My words tapered into a whisper, and I forced my eyes to the ground, trembling. Lost. I was so lost, more so than I'd ever been in my life. My parents didn't remember me. No one did. So how could I possibly think that my best friend might?

Yesterday, I was a person who existed, someone with a place in the world, even if that place was insignificant. Now, I was a nobody, and the only person who knew of my existence was the Stygian man before me.

I glanced up, staring at an unfixed point on the male's forehead. His pale skin was almost translucent in the sunlight, almost other-worldly. Even now, standing before him, I could sense that power thrumming within his body, as though it were a living thing waiting to strike. As I finally mustered the courage to meet his cerulean gaze, fear cooled my bones.