How do you stop yourself from doing something that you have no control over? How do you pull away, when the person you want to pull away from is so enticing, with a grip so strong that breaking away is nearly impossible? I guess the answer is you don't, you let yourself go to the force and you stop fighting. Isn't that the deal with quick sand? Fighting only makes it worse.
Lucy was gone, floating over the scene and looking over with horror. The girl being embraced by Lyus, holding onto his chest with dear life and pressing into his passionate kisses was not the sixteen year old girl she'd known herself to be. It was as if she had evolved into a different person, older and more mature - with a certain wild elegance about her.
Lyus' hands had weaved into my hair, his kisses now feral and with hunger. His teeth bit down on hair, his kisses now feral and with hunger. His teeth bit down on my lips, drawing blood which was only lapped up with the tip of his tongue.
"My dear Lyla," Lyus whispered, his nose brushing against mine. Both of his hands were pressed on each side of my face, his fingers massaging my scalp. It was hard to concentrate, staring into those now dark eyes and trying to focus. Trying to decide just how I could hate this man, how I could kill this man when it was much too clear that there was a connection that tied us together.
"I have to go," I finally managed to get out, pulling away, my feet stumbling over themselves as I only walked further backwards. Lyus stood and watched, a tiny and devilish smirk playing on his lips as if he'd known he won me over. Had he?
"Lucy, you don't want to fight me. Trust me. You'll lose." I didn't know what that meant. Was this a battle in which lives would be taken and I would be responsible because I couldn't stop it? Or would it be because the side that'd been dormant until now would prevent me from fighting on the right side?
---
Lyus didn't come after me, and his voice left me - it was quiet on the way back as I found it hard to take in the last hour and a half that had completely changed my life and possibly my way of thinking. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I would tell Mason or the others. I knew Lyus' plan, I knew that he was dangerous and so were his fellow mates - and their numbers were only growing. Would this be a lost war like Lyus stated? Would it be worth it to go into battle with a man, a beast, who had the means and power to get exactly what he wanted whether we tried to stop him or not?
The moment I got home, I wanted to crawl into a ball on my bed and cry. This was an effort I wasn't sure I had the power to actually go through with and it wasn't just because I was scared, nor because I was terrified. It was because some part of me loved Lyus and couldn't even fathom the idea of going against him. I fell asleep in tears.
---
The world around me was black, not a scary pitch black, but more so the comfort of darkness that follows one closing their eyes. I wasn't comforted though; there was a pain that seized my body making it hard to breathe. Cold air rushed against my bare skin: bare legs and bare breasts. I struggled to open my mouth and plead for help. I'd realized then that I lay in an alley way of some sorts, the night sky and its small shards of glass hovering over me. I was reaching out, a bloodied wrist aiming for a figure that stood in the shadows. I stared at his feet, black boots that were too caked in mud and blood.
I looked up then, staring into silver eyes. The man look distressed, as if he weren't sure what to do with me.
"Please," I croaked, tears running across my cheekbones. My lips stung from cuts, but every inch of me hurt so bad that it practically went unnoticed. Glass and gravel crunched beneath the boots of the man as he bent down to my level, his hand reaching out and grabbing my bloody wrist. The pain was great then, one that robbed me of my breath. As he bent my arm some I could see what the cause of distress, a bite mark was. It all seemed much too familiar.
In seconds the male had swept me up into his arms, my head cradled against his warm and bulking chest. I dozed off into unconsciousness then. When I awoke, what seemed hours later - I was still in a pool of darkness. But this time, it was because I was in a room with the sheets drawn tightly. I felt feverish, and while the burning pain and aches I felt the previous night were gone, I was still sore.
"You're awake," a voice called and as I looked over I could see the man from the previous night, sitting in the shadows some. His eyes seemed pinched with worry, but lacked the intimidation that they usually did. He looked at me, me in this dream - me as Lyla, the same way he had looked at me in the forest.
"What happened?" I questioned, cringing at the immense dryness of my throat, as if I'd consumed nothing but sand in the last hours.
"You were attacked; something attacked you. A deranged and lustful mutt." His choice of words confused me, though the idea of lust being included made my stomach turn. Tears failed to stay within my eyes.
"Was I?" He growled a rich and fearful dredge of noise that shook his chest like thunder would a house.
"I killed it before it had the chance."
"I should be at the hospital then. Why did you bring me here? Why do you say it?" I then felt relieved, as if the ideas of this man having a good enough character to not kill a human pleased me.
"Because," he leaned froth, his scent strong with that of the earth and burning wood. "It was a beast that attacked you, a werewolf and I killed it."
"A we-werewolf," I stammered, finding it all too hard to take in. "That's - impossible? How could you -"
His eyes glinted then and as if ashamed he looked away from me. Why I wasn't scared, was the least of my concerns; wanting him to know I accepted him, whatever inane thing he claimed to be - and know that I was grateful was of most importance.
"The world I know isn't filled with werewolves."
"The world you know is filled of many beasts, why can't you accept that of a werewolf?"
"Because that would mean that I too -"Lyus' eyes only further confirmed that. A sad chuckle stumbled from my lips. This was too much to believe. "As if this now isn't unbelievable. Why did you save me? Why did you create another one, if you're some kind of killer?"
"Because I am not a werewolf killer." He smirked, as if this were funny.
"So that makes you a werewolf?"
"I guess it does," he responded.
The dream turned hazy, and the voices became feint, as if I were watching a show on a TV with bad reception. I awoke the next morning with less confidence that I could fight against Lyus when it was clear, Lyla was inside of me and she loved him too much to see her protector go.
---
I know it's not much of an update, but it kind of gives more background of Lucy (Lyla) and Lyus. I'm still working out plot kinks, but hopefully the next chapter is much more exciting. Thoughts? What would you guys like to see?
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the girl who cried wolf|Wattys 2015
Novela Juvenil“It was the coldest winter Crescent Falls had ever experienced. I remembered the way the cold seeped through my shirt from the snow. I don’t remember being afraid, or crying, or screaming; that is until I felt the teeth digging into my arm. I wasn’t...
