"No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected."
~ Julius Caesar ~
***
Seeing the stranger push off the wall with a savage grace makes Salem's stomach drop like lead.
"What do you want from me?"
The words come out instantly in a rasped voice. She hopes they will slow him down that they will force him to give her an answer before he comes closer. It would probably seem weird to someone else, that her first question isn't to request his name or to know where she is.
No.
Before demanding those answers, Salem needs to find out if she landed herself in an even worst situation than before. If that man, coming her way, intends on finishing what the dead man started.
Why else would he bring her here and not to a hospital?
Inscrutable blue eyes still locked with hers, he takes a step, then another, and her throat tightens. Her brows scrunch in brief confusion, and her heartbeat goes wild when she can feel the power crackling around him like sparks. Everything in this man screams dominant, and she feels like prey, instinct telling her to flee this situation and protect herself.
With a startled shriek, Salem shoves herself off the bed. Immediately the world tilts on its axis, but still, she scrambles on her hands and knees and presses herself into a corner of the room. There is no way to escape the situation, and she can't stand to watch him approach. Bending her head and lowering her gaze, she fights against the dizziness and nausea while keeping her eyes away from him.
If she weren't so damn terrified, she would laugh at her pathetic attempt to escape the situation.
If you can't see it, it's not here... seriously?
There is the familiar sarcasm again, but it quickly dies down when she presses her hands into her face. Her breathing accelerates when she realizes all she can see is red.
Blood.
Coating every inch of her hands.
Marring her calves.
Making her bodysuit stick to her skin.
Blood from the head that was ripped off next to her.
The monster's blood.
Oh my god! Get it off, get it off me, get it off....
"Shh," his voice, a low husky rumble, sends a ripple of shivering awareness down her spine, and her eyes widen in shock when a large calloused hand wraps around her neck, bringing her face to a rock hard chest. The touch of foreign skin on hers makes a little whimper break free. "It's not yours. You're safe".
Did I say that out loud?
YOU ARE READING
HIS SALVATION
Werewolf- #1 Book in the KINGS series - * * * Two warm hands slip over her shoulders, calloused fingertips ghost over the bone at the nape of her neck, making a shiver run down her spine. Tender hands gather her hair and push the damp lock over her right sh...
