When Darkness Calls

His.

I woke up screaming, sweat dripping down my heaving chest as I shot up in the unfamilier bed.

The fire. Was I dead? No, I was alright, sore from overworking my body, But somebody got me out. I was healed/healing. Sore. My brain mentally assessed me.

"Your dreams are extremely easy to get into, babe."

My head snapped over in the direction of the voice. Damon, Damon sat on the other side of the bed.

I scrambled backwards until I smacked my head on the wall behind me.

"No. Your not in a dream." he clarified for me.

"What the hell are you doing here"? I demanded.

"Well it is my bedroom." he rolled his eyes as if I were stupid.

"W-what? why would I be-"

"You were supposed to come running out of the fire babe. Then we could take you amoungst the chaos, but instead you went further in. Caused quite a bit of trouble for me." He sounded annoyed.

"Excuse me?" I stood. "You started that fire?" rage filled me. He almost killed half my pack! He almost killed Aspen!

"So? Its your fault anyways." He shrugged, picking some mud off of his boots.

"M-my-" I couldn't even speak I was so angry. "My fault?" I screamed at him. "Like hell it is!"

He chuckled and stood. "Temper?" He mocked.

"I have every right to be angry! y-you kidnapped me!" I shouted.

"Kidnapped?" His eyes darkened as he came around the bed to tower over me. "I merely took what was already mine." He put a hand on my cheek.

The low growl that escaped my lips surprised even me.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. Now."

When he didn't remove his hand I grabbed it and tossed it aside like you would toss a cockroach.

He only chuckled.

He almost killed Aspen.

Then before I knew what I'd done I slapped him hard across the face. His cheek shone red for a moment, the small cut on his cheek bone healing before my eyes.

Then I was on my back, hands pinned to my sides as a low threatening growl filled the room and vibrated my entire body.

"Don't you ever-"

"Go to hell." I spat at him before he could finish. The memory of Aspens limp, barely alive body in my arms fueling my fire.

Then as soon as he was angry he seemed again amused. "Get dressed", he gestured to some clothes at the end of the bed. "We are going for a run." then he was gone.

Dressed? I questioned before looking down at myself, and I practically screamed.

Somebody's gonna die.

I was in an oversized T-shirt that definitely wasn't the pink boy shorts and tee I'd worn to bed.

I snatched the tee shirt up pulling it over my head and tossing it like it was a disease.

Thankfully the under-stuff wasthe same white I'd worn under the dress. Ill be it, a little singed around the edges.

I threw on the White shorts that were much to short for my own comfort, and the Black tank.

I ignored the shoes and stood in front of the mirror.

You couldn't tell how badly I'd been injured, especially not that I had begun to burn alive. Other then the fact that I may have been a little redder, and only I knew how sore I was.