Fight to the Finish

Chapter 10 - Identity

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to ‘RebelPoet’ for voting on every single chapter. Thank you!!

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Recap:

Drake’s POV:

   What is wrong with you, Imogen Hastings? I pondered. Damon grunted in my mind, telling me to shut up and go to sleep. I rolled my eyes. I swear that I had the pushiest wolf out there.

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Chapter 10 - Identity

Imogen’s POV:

   I woke up the next morning in the softest bed I had ever slept in, yet despite that, I felt exhausted. I looked around the room in wonder, before everything from the day before slammed back into my mind at full speed. I shuddered and took a deep breath as the tears welled up again.

   Don’t cry, don’t cry. I chanted to myself, and I was proud when it worked. I wrenched my eyes open again, and this time, I caught sight of Adam staring at me intensely with a worried look on his face.

   I stared back, unsure of what to do, and how long he had even been in my room for. “How did you sleep?” He asked, almost cautiously. My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Just fine thanks.” I answered curtly. His eyebrows shot up. “So you don’t remember anything?” He asked slowly. I frowned. “No... Why? Did something happen?” I asked, concerned now.

   He shook his head quickly; too quickly. “No...No... Nothing’s wrong. Just wondering is all. Well... I will have Martha send up some breakfast for you.” Adam stood up from the armchair and made his way to the door. “Who’s Martha?” I asked curiously. “She’s Drake’s mother, and also the best cook you’ll ever meet.” He answered, smiling wryly, before leaving myself to my own thoughts.

   He looks tired. Iris muttered.I agreed with her. Before I could remain anymore on the topic, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.” I called out, unsure if it was the right thing to do. The door burst open, and in swept a woman, who I could only presume was Martha.

   Unlike her son who had dark brown, untidy hair, Martha’s hair was sleek, blonde and in a french twist. She looked to be in her early thirties, and she carried a large tray in her manicured hands. The smells of delicious food wafted over to my keen nose, and my stomach immediately started grumbling. I flushed embarrassed, as Martha stared at me.

   And then like a light switch, her face broke out into a delighted smile. “Hello! I’m Martha. You’ve probably already met my son Drake.” She rolled her baby blue eyes at this. “Don’t get me wrong... That kid means well, but sometimes... he seriously needs to relax.” She laughed a tinkling, light laugh that made me want to join in.

   “Hi. I’m Imogen.” I replied timidly. She smiled warmly at me and the bed dipped slightly as she sat down next to me. Martha placed the tray onto my lap, and my stomach grumbled once again from the lack of food I had eaten. “Go on. Eat up! You look like you could use a few extra kilos!” Martha laughed, and I immediately dug in.

   Adam wasn’t exaggerating when he said Martha was the best cook I’d ever met. The scrambled eggs were light and fluffy, and the bacon, crisp and delicious. She had also made me a huge stack of pancakes served with whipped cream and berries. I had forgotten what they had tasted like and moaned in delight at the soft texture.

   Martha insisted I try a fried egg, bacon and cheese on a slice of still warm bread, and it was delicious. I couldn’t believe she had made all of this for me! I had never had a hash brown before either, and was hesitant at first. After a single bite, I fell in love with it.