Lily picked up the bow, shaking, pulling an arrow out of the quiver, and leaning against the cabin.
It was a makeshift longbow made from very loving hands. The wood was carved like a modern bow, but she could tell from its scrapes and small incisions that it was hand-carved.
Raising the bow- she'd struggle to align the arrow. Fuck! If she can barely align it, then why even try to shoot?
Her eyes widened as she began to recall a memory.
Two large, warm hands gently held onto her shoulders from behind.
A hot breath fanned against her ear like a large man hovering behind her. "Position yourself sideways..." He whispered, gently using his own feet to align hers.
"Stand straight," He kept himself pressed behind her, "The arm holding the bow should be straight, doll." Lily straightened her arm.
"Pull your arm up, aim your body, and bow at your target..." The man pursuing her lept out from the bushes, his arm coated in blood from the rock she stabbed him with. She aligned herself to face him- his eyes widening at the sight of her with a bow.
"Breath in and..." His soothing, baritone voice hummed. "Shoot."
Lily breathed out, letting go of the arrow.
It flew like a bullet, stabbing into the man's collarbone. He yowled in agony, gasping and coughing as he staggered backward.
His hand flew up to grasp at the arrow- but it was too deep in his flesh for him to yank it out.
The warmth behind her had disappeared, but that didn't stop Lily from grabbing another arrow and positioning it on the bow. The man's eyes widened as she'd shot it- hitting him in the upper chest.
He spat out blood, pressing himself against a tree. "Fuck-" He swore, "What is this bullshit?" The man hissed, "Didn't think you could get so far with the body of a mortal." He narrowed his eyes at her- hate swarming in them like a swarm of bees.She would demand to know what he meant, but the cloth was still wrapped around her mouth.
Lily pulled out another arrow, slightly stumbling as her body trembled from the Canadian cold. She dropped the arrow, pursing her lips and gritting her teeth in frustration. Now was not the time to stumble.
Taking out another arrow from the quiver- she watched as the mysterious man started to run toward her.
Still, she lets go of the arrow. It loudly slams into an oak tree- sticking out of the wood.
Her heart is rattling in her ribcage- panic swirling alongside the adrenaline. With every step, he was getting closer and closer- the fear of what he'd do to her only worsened her panic.
A flash of white hit the man like a bullet train.
He yowled in agony- his voice carrying for miles through the dark winter forest.
A small ornate box tumbled to the ground.
The greying brunette's head hit the ground violently, and snow puffed up around his body. A massive white wolf stood above him, its delicate fur blending in with the winter freeze and grey eyes searing into the man below.
Lily gaped at the wolf. Its beauty was unparalleled, with gentle fur and an elegant frame that no painter could fully capture.
The man hurriedly grabbed and hid the ornate box in his clothes for safekeeping.
She watched the massive wolf wrap its maws around his clothes and pick him up, galloping away with its newly obtained prize like a satisfied hunter.
Grabbing the quiver from the ground and keeping her bow, she'd clamber around the cabin and jiggle the doorknob. Fortunately- it opened without much fuss. It was just as cold inside but better than being barefoot in the snow.
Closing the door, she set the weapons on a table and curtly found the bed.
It was nicely made—the sheets were tucked in, and the pillow was fluffed. She'd have to make the bed before she left as an apology to the owner.
Rubbing her arms to warm herself up, her feet had gone numb from the cold.
She was scared for her life. Freezing to death was a horrible way to die- and she had too many mysteries in her life to die without solving. She especially wanted to live to see the cloaked man again.
Was she in love with him? Maybe. He was an absolute sweetheart, protected her, and appeared to know something about her amnesia.
She wasn't going to die without figuring out who she truly was.
Absolutely not.
YOU ARE READING
THE TYRANT : UNVEIL THE MOON
WerewolfHe was gigantic. The 7'0 monster of a man towered over her, even though he was sitting. Bright cyan eyes gazed down at her unreadably. He gestured with his large fingers for her to come closer. She'd anxiously waddle up to him. His bare chest was o...