Chapter 3: He’s not a human but a werewolf
~ Melissa’s POV ~
I let out a piercing shriek, stumbling back in fear as a sharp pain shot through my head. My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the ground, tears spilling from my eyes.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Did you feel pain somewhere?” The guy bombarded me with questions, but I couldn’t focus, unable to form a single word.
“Those red eyes? What are you?” I managed to blurt out between sniffles.
“I don’t understand your question,” he replied, his voice tinged with confusion. I could hear him shifting, the sound of fabric rustling as he creased his eyebrows and widened his eyes. He waved his hand in front of me, and I instinctively grabbed it.
“You can see,” he stated, more of a question than an observation.
“No, but my condition is... different. You haven’t answered my question,” I reminded him. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as his lips pressed into a thin line. Despite my fear, I found his confusion almost amusing, and my gaze softened.
“What are you?” I asked again, my impatience growing, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Those red eyes... they were the things I feared the most.
Before he could respond, Tracy’s voice cut through the tension. “Why did you run off like that, Lisa? Are you crazy? Do you know who those guys are? They’ve been searching everywhere for you, and I saw them heading this way. You need to leave now. They won’t let you go easily if they find you.”
His grip on my arm tightened. “Let’s go. I know a safe place.” His tone left no room for argument. Without waiting for my response, he started pulling me away.
“Where are you taking me?” I protested, jerking my arm free as we sprinted through what felt like endless corridors of cold air and distant sounds. My feet pounded against the ground, each step a sting of pain.
“Just wait a little bit. We’ll be there soon.” His voice was firm, but I hissed in pain, blisters forming on my feet from the rough terrain. How had I gotten into this mess? I’d always kept my distance from my visions, warning people but never getting involved. Now, I was entangled in something I couldn’t fully understand.
“We’re here,” he announced. The harsh wind of late autumn stung my already cold face, beads of sweat dotting my forehead. The place was eerily quiet, the only scent the sharp tang of pine in the air.
“Where are we?” I yanked my hand free.
“The off-end of the campus,” he replied, and recognition hit me. The off-end of the campus—where the elite students lived. A shiver ran down my spine. Only the richest students could afford to live out here, in their separate resorts and houses, far removed from the rest of us. My breath caught in my throat as I pieced it together, fear deepening.
“The off-end... where the elites live?” I echoed, my voice small as the reality sank in. This wasn’t just any place—it was where the wealthiest, most untouchable students stayed, far from the reach of anyone who wasn’t like them. The kind of place that screamed danger for someone like me, someone who didn’t belong.
“You can come in,” he called, and I hesitated. I envisioned him standing in the doorway of a grand mansion, marble tiles cool underfoot, chandeliers overhead sparkling with blinding luxury. My mind screamed with possibilities, each one more overwhelming than the last. I had two choices: stay with him until the storm passed, or go back and risk being caught by those men.
“Why are you still standing there?” His voice, now slightly slurred, pulled me from my thoughts, and I darted to him. Blood trailed down from his neck, each drop making a sickening tick on the marble floor. He hissed in pain, and I heard the tearing of fabric.
At least I felt safe with him, despite the unfathomable feelings stirring inside me.
“I could help with those,” I blurted out, my hands flying to my mouth in surprise at my own words.
“You’re weird,” he said, a small smirk curling his lips as he returned with a first aid kit, dropping it in front of me.
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind,” he quipped, raising an eyebrow at my hesitation. I sighed, washing my hands.
“I won’t”, I stated sighing and I felt movement beside me. It was suddenly quiet and I noticed him boring eyes into me.
“Your name?”, I asked breaking the silence.
“Aiden right?”, I envisioned him saying.
“Melissa, is it?” He said at the same time and I wondered just how much he knew about me, though I could envision him telling me his name but can he also foresee the future?.
“Ouch,” he muttered interrupting my thoughts as I applied the anesthetic and wrapped the bandage around his wound, managing to stop the bleeding.
“Be careful,” he murmured, his tone low. I scoffed, annoyed. If not for my stupid decision, I wouldn’t be sitting across from him, dressing his wounds. It was difficult, and I felt uncomfortable under his gaze, the heat from his body seeping into mine, a jolt of electricity sparking through me each time my hands brushed his skin.
I sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the way his hushed tone sent a shiver down my spine, or the way my body reacted to his touch. My panties were damp, and my nipples hardened, craving his touch.
“Stop whining like a baby,” I snapped, trying to distract myself. He shifted his gaze from me, but I couldn’t help the images that flashed in my mind—his strong biceps, his broad chest, and the way his body might feel pressed against mine.
“No, wait... your eyes changed,” I whispered, sensing the shift in him. In my mind, I saw his eyes, golden flecks in amber, glowing with an intensity that had been missing before. But they had been red before, piercing and dangerous. I couldn’t make sense of it. My hands moved to the deep lines in his eyes on impulse, I shuddered at the electrifying jolt that seeped through my body gulping down the saliva caught in my throat. Moving my hands away, he grabbed it back and I jerked as my hands and chest collided with his hard chest.
I traced the lines of his body, feeling the chiseled abs beneath his shirt, up to his strong jawline and thin lips. He lets out a rasped breath jolting me from my trance.
My hands froze in mid-air. What the hell am I doing? It was as if I were possessed, lusting over a stranger whose life I had just saved.
Suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, and I gasped, parting my lips as his moved against mine, filled with desire. The kiss was slow yet fierce, a battle for dominance as my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. I found myself in his lap, my legs straddling his thighs, his erection pressing against my belly. I rubbed my hips against him, arching my waist, and he moaned, sending a thrill through me.
I unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off as my hands roamed over his muscular chest. His lips never left mine, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth as I moaned into the kiss, my hands ruffling his short, sleek hair. He deepened the kiss, one hand fondling my breast, his fingers teasing my already hardened nipples.
I don’t even know the fuck I am doing right now, making out with a stranger yet my hands couldn’t pull away from his as he spread kisses exploring every corner of my body, he traced the kisses down to my neck.
“What’s this feeling?”, I managed to say in between my moans, I have never experience this inexplicable feelings.
“Mine”, He hummed in response and I could hear fabrics tearing, my gown sliding down my body and I wiggled my eyebrows, my senses clouded with nothing but desire, he continued his torture and I screamed out in ecstasy. I felt the images hitting me as a sharp glint in his mouth breaking through my neck. I couldn’t make out of it until I felt the pain seeping to me.
“What’s he?”, The question lingered in my mind and I felt my subconsciousness slipping away.