Daughters of Hecate: Impure Blood.

Chapter 10 - Passion in the Shadows!

Lyanna Stone's point of view.

Passage of time - Three months.

It was so dark... there was a trickle of light... you could still see the moonlight coming through some opening... why so dark?... cold..., but I can feel your presence. It's so strong... so dense.

- Where are you? - I call out, looking into the shadows of the night... yes, I can feel it... he's there... in the dark, in the cold... trapped... so sad. I hear a child crying and I start to run, trying to identify where that sound was coming from.

As I run through the endless corridors, I see a shadow running off to the right.

- No... don't go there... you're getting deeper and deeper... it's cold there. - I called out, but apparently he didn't hear me, until he stopped in front of those doors... doors so dark... cold. I looked up and saw wolves' heads carved out of wood, as if they were in agony. Some were writhing, some were crying and some no longer had faces.

The little boy has come in! - I shouted.

- Don't... you'll get lost... - Impulsively, I entered the room. I came across a huge stone hall; there was only one window that overlooked the moon... the full moon... Selene's face... The light was shining directly on a throne with the same wolf heads carved on the door, but with tears of blood flowing from them. I feel a heaviness in my heart, a sadness that seems to be taking over my soul, my body.

My life... everything is so cold! But suddenly, I feel him... his strength... that intrinsic power of emptiness itself, it's an overwhelming pressure.

He's on the throne... I can't move... but I feel strangely drawn to the man sitting there as if he's waiting for something.

What is he waiting for? Is it possible that he's waiting for me? For what purpose? His bare feet are bleeding... as if he'd crossed a field full of shards of glass, but there are no cuts.

His pants were black, but I can't determine which fabric they were made of. His abdomen was defined... and looking at him, strangely, made me thirsty; my mouth was so parched.

They had strange symbols... were they tribal tattoos? His chest moved slowly, up and down. It was so strong... and hot... how did I know it was hot?

He was alive, but he looked like a statue... so still... so pale. Looking at the muscular, defined arms of this stranger made me feel a multitude of emotions: anxiety, fear, dread... I felt his strength.

And that it went beyond what I could see... I knew it! He could tear me apart if he wanted to! Gathering all my courage, I looked up. His slightly square, defined chin was covered with the shadow of a dense black beard. His unruly black hair was adorning a face that would definitely frighten even the strongest alphas, but strangely, I felt like stroking it, and feeling its softness. Eyes of a deep blue stared at me and sent only one message: "I want to kill!". But in my crazy mind. Why, it could only be madness... I only heard whispers that said... "I'm going to love you".

My heart started an Olympic race inside my chest, my legs started shaking uncontrollably and my mind started spinning, like on a merry-go-round, with no brake lever.

- Mítica, where are you? What's going on? Where are we? MITICA! - I screamed for my Lycanthrope and woke up with a wet body, my hair literally drenched in sweat and a feeling of emptiness in my chest.

As if I had failed to do something important..., but what? What had I failed to do? My heart was still racing. I heard light knocks on my bedroom door and Marisa's voice, asking if I could come in.