Alyson And The Bad Boy.

Dead girl.

The sun beamed through the netted cream curtains, the rays of warmth hitting Alyson’s face as she peacefully yawned fully rested. She ran a hand down her face trying to recall the last time she had slept so nicely throughout the whole night. Now she had come to think about it this was the first time she hadn’t woken up screaming in the middle of the night since the car crash.

She peeped an eye open and then shut it quickly, too comfy to even think about moving. She could feel a strong arm around her waist, she couldn’t think who it was and when she tried to move out of its embrace, the arm would quickly tighten its grip on her skinny waist, hauling her back to where she once was.

She opened her eyes fully now and took a glance around the room. Panic rose in her as she realised this wasn’t her room and memories of yesterday crawled back into her mind.

She tried to break free of Blake’s hold but he was too strong for her and she knew it. He brought her closer to his bare chest, her heart beat picking up at the thought of being so close to his nicely sculptured chest.

“No don’t go,” Blake murmured huskily in her ear feeling his face dig into the crock of her neck, inhaling her scent as he wasn’t fully awake yet.

She did as she was told secretly enjoying his safe warm arms, Blake stirred pulling Alyson extra closer to him like he was never going to let go. He took a deep breath in of her long silky blonde hair that was like roses to his nose.

“Morning,” He murmured to her his voice deep and husky from sleep but it didn’t bother Alyson in fact she kind of liked the way he sounded.

Laying there with Alyson in his arms made a strange unfamiliar feeling rise in Blake almost like he belonged and it felt right.

Alyson let out a heavy sigh and snuggled closer to him. Letting her fight fade away, just realising how exhausting it was. Her mind wanted him, her body craved him and only if it was a little while she was satisfied.

She slowly let her worries and fears slip away from her. She forgot the man beside her kidnapped her and forced her to stay in his mansion full of were-wolves and replaced it with how he saved her from being killed by his evil alpha father. She forgot how he took her away from her mother and her home and everyone she ever loved.

Blake yawned and blindly reached for the TV remote on his bedside table, he flicked it on and the news beamed on the screen.

Alyson looked up and gasped. There before her on the TV was her photo while the news women spoke. She sat up in shook and everything she forgot about flooded back to her.

“A memorial service will be held for those who lost their lives in the bank fire today at 7pm at the square,” The women stated and then her photo became enlarged.

“Alyson Clarke, aged 17,” The women said and then her picture changed into one with her dad. Tears welled her eyes as it all too soon changed into a man she thought looked oddly familiar. She then remembered him as the one who told her to keep quiet to somewhat help save her.

“Damien Price, aged 28,” Her brain overloaded as the flash of the memory of bullets plunging into his chest and the way he gave her one last look of hopelessness.

The picture changed and she didn’t have to try and remember as she instantly recognised the women and the unwanted image of her lifeless body with blood pooled around her head from the gun shot Blake’s father had made came rushing to her mind.

Her stomach lurched as she remembered the murderous look on Blake’s dad’s face, the way it was easy for him to kill her in front of news reporters police and maybe even her own family.