Anima Luna (Mature)

Twenty-One-A Familiar Figure

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2 1 ~ a familiar figure

     Ragnar's body is hot and tense as he pushes himself onto me. His breathing is at  rapid pace while his icy blue eyes are glued onto my bleeding neck. I could feel the sheets becoming sticky from the wound and I was beginning to panic. I didn't want to loose too much blood and die here!

     I was hoping Ragnar would wake up from this stupor he's stuck in, silently praying to the Moon Goddess to aid me with this request. If he didn't get up soon, or at least patch me up, I knew I would pass out.

     Then who knows how long it'll be until he comes to his senses. I swallow my gathering saliva and bite my lip. I had to get Ragnar off of me.

     We had two days until we reach Valrise Peak, and we couldn't afford any setbacks (mostly because I wanted to settle in as soon as possible).

     "Ragnar," I gently whispered, trying to coax him, "Ragnar, please get off of me."

     My mate doesn't move. Those sad eyes continue to stare at my neck.

     "Ragnar," I call softly again.

     His eyes blink for the first time in a minute. He suddenly snarls, those fangs baring at me with upheaval and malice. Tears spring to my eyes as I attempt to become one with the mattress, shifting between the blankets and his elongating claws. They curl near my head, breaking through the materials.

     I yelp at his sudden roar. It's loud and ear-shattering. My hands fly to the side of my head in order to keep my eardrums intact. Fear begins to slither it's way through my spine and into my nerves. It's hard to breathe as my mate turns violent for no reason.

     Just those darkening eyes cause my fear to toil when they shifted away from my neck.

     "Ra— Ragnar, please! Stop! It's me!" I shout at him. I was too scared to touch him but out of habit, my hand wrap around his biceps to gather his attention— which caused me to touch him and the expression on his face turns dark. My heart thumps in my chest.

     "Mate! It's me! It's me, McKenzie! Please, baby, stop! Just stop! Don't hurt me!"

     I could no longer take the look in his eyes as he stares me down. Those irises turn from a longing sadness to intense anger before finally settling on a darkening grief. So many emotions within a minute festers and thrives behind his irises. My words catch in my throat at the subtle expression he gives. It's hard to swallow after his intense eyes.

     He stares down at me while breathing roughly. I can't bare to see my Ragnar suffer like this. The aid within me can tell something wrong, and it couldn't be due to his physical features. He had to be emotionally traumatized for him to switch between such immense anger to a self-loathing grief.

     My chest heaves up and down. Ragnar becomes softer with the sheets, his claws uncurling from the mattress and the blanket. I notice the dilated pupils hiding the storm in those beautiful irises. Something inside me clicks, and I can't help but to lower my voice and release my grip on his shoulders.