The Price I Paid

3: Wolf-Boy

*Photo is Roman (Pale face)*

Mine, mine, mine...

The word reeled through my mind, bringing the natural thoughts to a screeching halt in order to mull it over. Was I his to kill? Was he speaking to someone else?

... Was he claiming his property?

I refrained groaning in disgust, shoving that retched thought away. I wasn't a property to be owned, especially not by any scum that claimed to be an almighty werewolf. Werewolves were respectable, and this lot was a pack of mangy mutts.

"Excuse me?" I finally said, breaking the lingering and intense silence in the room. The creepy guy on steroids didn't answer. He began taking long strides towards me, closing the distance between us faster than I could reach the wall of muscle just a few feet behind me.

The guy grabbed me, seeming to check me for whatever markings he cared to find. As soon as his skin touched mine, overwhelming jolts send my legs buckling as a low moan escaped me. I fell straight into him, the sensation sprouting with exponential force. I mustered the strength to slap my hands over my mouth before any other unwanted sounds passed my lips, and quickly sprung out of his grasp. He appeared to be far too occupied with trying to help me, and my butt collided with the floor before he could do anything.

He reached out to me, and I slapped his hand away with as much force I could manage.

"Don't touch me," I said hurriedly, fearing my voice was too weak to be heard. Either he didn't hear me or he chose to ignore me, because he reached down to pull me up.

"Just relax," he whispered huskily into my ear, "I've got you."

That's the problem...

Every worry seemed to fade, as if I were drifting in the skies. My mind was clear in his arms, and I hated my relishing in the feeling. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, letting him take my weight. He scooped his arms under my legs, and carried me into whatever room he originated from. My eyes fluttered open and I looked about the large room.

The walls were a light brown, with a massive table holding what appeared to be some model of army men on one side and several bystanders on the other-- and in between two small-in-comparison-to-the-gigantic-entrance doors stood a small stage with a giant throne, the metallic gold outlining a lush layer of red silk. Beside it was a much smaller version, but just as stunning nevertheless.

"Who is this?" A luxurious voice inquired aloud, and I looked to meet his gaze.

He had these icy blue eyes that looked over me with flirtatious interest, and I had to squint to see orange flakes ablaze in his eyes. His hair was a deep brown and extremely disheveled, bringing his paled skin to stick out in a stark contrast. He still had stubble gracing his soft features, and he wasn't nearly as buff as the werewolves-- yet he still looking intimidating enough to rip apart a tank.

"Don't look at her like that," the wolf-boy growled lowly in warning, and a warm hand slapped over my mouth to muffle a soft gasp. Wolf-boy held an eery effect on me. My mind despised it-- whereas my body bathed in it.

I decided I didn't need him to carry me anymore, so I pushed myself away from him and accepted that I'd land on my butt again... Except a freezing cold touch caught me, zapping me from the ecstacy the wolf-boy had put me in. There scent quickly engulfed me, and I could feel a strange carelessness rise once more.

"Get a whiff of that," that same, luxurious voice commented. A grumble sounded, but was caught off by an evident laugh, "I wasn't talking about that," he explained, a few chuckles departing before he added, "But I can smell that, too."

"What are you two talking about?" I finally managed, standing myself up and getting away from them. My head began to throb as the course changes slammed into my head relentlessly, and I gasped in pain.

I slammed my eyes shut, kneeling down and rubbing my fingers at my temples. I was desperately trying to relieve myself, and it only brought the panicked voice of wolf-boy. I was fighting tears when I opened my eyes, and I pushed wolf-boy away before he could try and make it worse.

"I'm fine," I grumbled, fighting the pain and standing up straight. These two weren't a plethera of euphoric bliss, they were enemies. I couldn't let them see me weak.

"You didn't look fine--" wolf-boy began, and I backed up before his reaching arms could get me.

"And I didn't ask for your help," I stated simply and stubbornly, swearing to keep distance between us.

"Griffin--" The pale face began, but he was cut off. Either way, wolf-boy was named after a feline creature with wings? How dastardly ironic.

"It doesn't mean you don't need help!" Wolf-boy-- Griffin-- tried to explain. I wasn't having it, not when poor mutants were dying beneath his feet. He had power, which meant he could've done something about it and chose not to.

"Griff--" Pale face tried to speak again, but I was going to get my message across. Pale-face had more time to waste here than I did

"But I don't need help from some mutt who leaves people to starve and choke on rotting fumes in some old cell!" I screamed, ignoring the excruciating agony in my skull. Griffin remained silent, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Gr--"

"Why was she in the jail!" Griffin roared to the guards in the room, his eyes now pitch black.

"Griffin, she's a mutant!" Pale face finally managed, and all in the room stilled.

All but myself.

I decided then that I didn't want to be torn apart by a mass of werewolves and whatever the paled people were, so I broke into a sprint. I burst past the guards, reasoning that they were too anxious from their precious leader Griffin yelling to do anything. I was just lucky I had this moment to get away.

I was just down the hall, people beginning to finally chase after me, when it all became to much.

The flesh clinging to my skull began to burn, my head in a spasm of blistering mutilation. My legs buckled, and the feeling of pins and needles poking at me overtook my body. I could barely hear myself over the conflagrance alive in my ears, and the best attempt to try and lash out was uncontrollably flailing my limbs about.

I could feel the black abyss of unconsciesness descending upon me, bringing every sound and teary-eyed sight to a complete blur. I felt worlds away, and the relief washed over me as I faded into the bittersweet nothing.