Fortis

Fortis | Duo

            “What do you mean leave?” I asked, my brows raising to my hairline.

He rolled his eyes at my dramatics. “It means what it means. We can’t be here anymore, not in this small ass town when you’re a newborn and haven’t experienced her first bloodlust—or change for that matter.”

At the end of his explanation, I forgot about my shoulder and the pain that came along with it as I sat up on the bed. I braced myself for the agonizing pain but it never appeared, only a dull pulsating. Pushing the confusion to the side, I reasoned with Fortis. “I-I can’t just leave! Especially with someone who thinks I’m a—a lycan or whatever. What about my parents? My friends? School? It’s my senior year, I can’t just pick up everything and move to God knows where with some stranger!”

I didn’t think I had to courage to yell at Fortis, and when I realized that I had, confidence rushed through me, boosting my small ego. But as Fortis paused, his icy eyes locking onto mine, I felt my ego deflate once again.

He ran a hand down his face, sighing exasperated. “My name’s Fortis Aloysius Stone. My first name is Latin for ‘strong,’ my middle name is Italian for ‘famous warrior.’ I’m nineteen and my favorite color’s black. My father was Greek and my mother was Italian. I was the only child. I was bitten by a lycan—much like yourself. Last year, my parents died and the police wrote it off as a car crash but it wasn’t, it was a lycan attack. And now we’re not strangers anymore.”

I didn’t know how to reply, my brain told me to give him sympathy but Fortis looked like the type of male that would brush it off. Sputtering, I eventually managed a reply. “I can’t leave my parents—”

“Who cares about them?” he exclaimed loudly, slightly making me startle. His voice had dropped an octave as it vibrated through his strong chest. Huffing, he dug his fingertips into the shirt in his hands. “They’ll die either way. Whether it’s from old age, murder, or some accident. They’re human. They’re fragile creatures.”

I distained the way his tone was condescending when he talked about people. At one point in time, he was one too. “What about school? I just got all my grades up to A’s!”

“School doesn’t teach you useful shit. Sure, it’ll help on some rare occasion, but it doesn’t teach you about how to survive in the real world. It’s all about how good you’re at memorizing things, it doesn’t test how smart you are.” Fortis scoffed.

“My friends?” I protested once again, my voice dying in my throat.

He hesitated. “No one’s your real friend.”

Hurt flashed through me and I quit trying to reason with him. He was set on leaving and seemed like the type of person to get what he wanted. Unconsciously, my eyes started to water. I wish I could turn back time, I would’ve never gone to the pond.

I sniffled, running my hand roughly under my nose. My eyes tore away from Fortis, not wanting him to see me cry like a little girl. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted my mom.

I heard him sigh. “Look, just don’t cry, all right? I’m not good with other people’s feelings. I’ll”—he sighed again, running his hands down his face—“I’ll give you until midnight tonight, deal? You can say your good-byes to your family and friends. But we need to leave, you need to understand that, little girl.”

I sniffed again, my watery eyes looking to him. “W-Why?”

“Because if we stay here, you’ll kill someone. And honestly, I don’t feel like covering up your mess.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone because I’m not a freaking werewolf!” My fists slammed down on the mattress, and I vaguely reminded of myself of a little kid throwing a tantrum.

Fortis inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring and eyes closed. “Would you like me to prove it to you that I’m right and you’re wrong?”

I snorted unladylike. “Please.”

Popping his eyes back open, he smiled. It wasn’t a friendly, warm smile but one of mischief and arrogance. He stalked his way over to me, holding out his palm. I looked from his limb to his eyes, and repeated.

“Let me see your hand,” he simply stated.

“No,” I denied, holding my hand to my chest protectively.

Fortis rolled his eyes. “You wanted me to show you, now give me your fucking hand.”

I gave up my hand when his voice was laced with a growl. He snatched my arm, his hold tight. With his other free hand, I watched as sharp claws grew from his once dull nails. The tips were black, the points looked sharp enough to cut someone from staring at them for too long. And before I could yank my arm back or freak out from the unnaturally fast growing nails, Fortis slashed his claws across my palm.

I screamed in fright and pain, the burning feeling working its way from my hand. He dropped my hand and I looked at it.

“Why would you do that?!” I yelled loudly, watching the thick scarlet liquid pool at the three marks. “You’re freaking insane! What if this get infec—”

Blinking rapidly as I thought my eyes were showing me hallucinations, my hand wound started…healing. Right before my eyes. A tingling sensation pricked at my palm as the blood seemed to be sucked back into my skin. And seconds later, the three scratches started to shirk before vanishing, leaving no mark and clear, untouched skin.

I turned my hand over, skimming over the skin, then flipped it back over. I flexed my fingers, any pain had disappeared along with the wound.

I looked up at Fortis with an unbelieving expression. “How’d you do that?”

“Lycan’s have the ability to heal abnormally fast. Believe me now, little girl?”