I n d o м ι т a в l e

(13)

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"Everything I learned I learned from the movies."

― Audrey Hepburn

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{Chapter: 13}

Unedited ✖

{ A S P E N M O N T G O M E R Y }

I can feel my body moving. My weight shifting from side to side in a rhythm. I can feel myself being held close to something hot, heat radiating off of whatever it is as it holds me close with a firm grip.

I feel drained; mentally and physically. My body lies limp in whoevers arms I'm laying in. I know it's a person who's carrying me, their fingers clenching tighter around my waist, bringing me closer whenever I try to move. Tingles shoot down my spine from the contact.

I peek open one of my eyes, using whatever ounce of energy I have left to try and see where I am. The surroundings are dark but in the distance I see lights.

We step out of the darkness and onto a wide dirt road illuminated by dimmed lighting. Everything is hazy but I manage to make out a few things before everything start to darken. Buildings begin appearing on each side of the pathway but I can't get a good look at them as my conscious begins to fade, a familiar alluring voice whispering soothingly in my ear as blackness claims me.

"Welcome to Luna caerulea."

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A sting in my shoulder makes my finger twitch. I groan and my throat instantly screams from the weak attempt in trying to speak.

I hear shifting from somewhere in the vicinity and footsteps padding across flooring before the squeaking of something opening and closing disappears. My eyes fight to open, the tiredness wrapped around me like a blanket. Where am I?

After a few more seconds my eyelids painfully flutter open and I'm met with a white ceiling. The lights in the room are low, giving it a soft glow and saving me from having to adjust to the normal brightness of the light bulbs above me.

Who's house is this? The walls are painted a plan gray, no pictures or paintings hanging on either of the four walls. The floor is a sleek wood with a coffee table beside the small couch I'm laying on, the light reflecting off the surprising cleanliness of the polished flooring. The only other piece of furniture is a small lamp side table pushed into the corner of the room.

Slight ruckus comes from a door off to my left and I slowly wrench my head towards the noise. Something, most likely a cabinet, shuts firmly before the sound of running water starts.

I struggle to push myself up, gripping onto the ash colored gray couch to help prop myself upwards. My back instantly groans in protest, my muscles clenching in discomfort as something in my lower and upper back begins throbbing. A sudden pinch in my shoulder has me yelping in pain and flopping back onto the sofa. I instinctively reach for my wound but wince again when my other shoulder begins aching.

My memories flicker back to the house, the werewolves, to when I was tackled to the ground and then to when I was rescued. I squeeze my eyes shut as a headache appears and nearly slap myself when I reach my arms towards my face causing another bolt of pain to radiate to my shoulder.

I instantly look towards the opening door where a figure emerges. Relief floods through me when Nicholai's handsome face appears, as if my natural reaction to his presence, but it's not long before my walls begin building themselves back by force.