Vivian Cole is close to starting her junior year of college. She's out for one last run in her home state of Louisiana when everything changes for her.
Saul Moses is the Alpha of a dying pack in Alaska. When on business in the South, he encounters...
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"Vivian," A gentle, warm tone calls me from my sleep and I twist my head, resisting the call to awaken. "Vivian, can you hear me?"
When I don't answer, the same voice reverberates inside my skull, beckoning me to respond, Vivian.
I groan, slowly peeling my eyes open until I'm face-to-face with Saul, the human. His hair is messily Dutch-braided on both sides and I furrow my brow at his presence. Around his neck, I notice a raw quartz crystal on a leather strap with a tag that has his name carved into it. Just like Bea's. "Vivian," He repeats, his hand on my head. I begin to resist it, but find myself too weak to do so.
"Saul?" I question, glancing around the room. "What happened?"
"I showed you my wolf and you passed out," He explains slowly and I scrunch my nose.
"Showed me your wolf?" It only takes a moment before it all clicks into place and the memories come rushing back of him metamorphizing into an animal. "No," I groan, pressing my fingertips to my eyes. "That was definitely a fever dream... or you drugged me again. I feel like I've been drugged."
"We didn't drug you, Vivian. And it wasn't a fever dream," He softly explains as his thumb caresses my forehead. "It was real."
My brain rushes to show me the image of him as a wolf, the same wolf that originally attacked me and bit me. "Y-You bit me!" I exclaim suddenly, shooting to a sitting position. It forces him to drop his hand from me, but otherwise, he remains stationary. "That-That really hurt!"
"I'm sorry, scintillula," He cups my cheek and strokes the skin beneath my eye in a gentle gesture. I'm quick to push him away and scramble to the other side of the bed until I'm standing up, looking for anything to use as a weapon. "There are no weapons in here, Vivian. You don't need to fight me, I won't hurt you."
"Y-You already did!" I shriek, stumbling about the space and grasping for anything to keep him away from me. He follows about five feet away from me, not close enough to touch me, but close enough to reach me if he has to.
"I'm sorry about that. If you'd just let me explain—"
"No!" I scream, tears beginning to run down my face as real fear sets in. "Stay away from me!"
"Vivian—"
When I reach the bookcase, an idea overtakes me and I begin snatching book after book off the shelves and hurling them at him. Although my aim is off because I'm throwing with my left hand only, it proves to be a fairly effective method of defense. He easily darts the first few, but edges begin to graze him as they come in quick succession. He blocks most with his hands though, calling out to me in broken sentences, "Vivian—Vivian—stop!—Don't throw—Wait, that's my favorite book—I won't hurt you!—Vivian—please—That one is hundreds of years old—Vivian—"
