Who? | The Dhampir (Book Two)

XII

Clarkson

The sun's warm rays shine on my face. George's lovely smile greets me as I slowly open my eyes.

"Hello," I say quietly.

"Hello," she says, smiling at me.

She's...talking to me.

My eyes widen. "D-Did you just reply to me?" I say as I take a look around. Mr. Tuna raised his head in response to the noise I made.

She laughs and nods. "I did," she says again, smiling. Her green eyes dart around the room, taking in every detail. "I guess... I caused some trouble again," she mumbles.

"Meow." Tuna yawns and stretches.

"Hi, Tuna."

"It's fine. All werewolves became Morphe too," I reply. "How are you?"

"I'm," she gasps for air before she continues, "exhausted."

I'm glad she's okay.

"Did I hurt you?" she asks, her gaze fixed on her chained wrist.

I open my mouth but am unable to respond. My mind is racing with ideas for how to explain to her why she is chained to her bed.

Her gaze rises to meet mine. "Did I?"

I quickly shake my head, "No, you did not."

"Am I scary?" she asks me again.

I pull the chair beside her bed and sit near her. "A little," I say, chuckling. "You're incredibly strong. I'm astounded. To stop you, I even have to transform into a wolf."

"I'm sorry," she says softly.

"It's fine. By the way," I pause and stand up. I get one of the fruit baskets given to her by the villagers. "Everyone is concerned about you. They gave you all of this," I spin around with my arms wide open, showing her all of the gifts.

"Wow," she exclaims, smiling. "I feel like I have fans."

I notice her attempting to get up. My legs move more quickly. I assist her in sitting up.

"So? You want some apples?" I offer and hand her the fruit basket.

She nods.

"Clarkson," I hear her whisper. "I'm scared," she adds while staring at the apple she is holding.