Fight Me

|1: Kidnapped|

Annabelle woke up to a wave of overwhelming sensation of sickness. She felt at a loss of gravity floating aimlessly in familiar warmth. Never had she felt more intoxicated yet she couldn't recall herself drinking. In fact, she couldn't remember anything. The memories from the last hours were but a delirious collection of ambiguous images and distant faces. Wrapped in a warm blanket of heat, she forced her eyes open to examine the unfamiliar, bizarre surroundings coated with darkness. The space, much smaller to what she was commonly accustomed to, was doused with silver light of the moon. Several seconds passed before her eyes adjusted to darkness.

As she slowly regained awareness, she carefully swayed her focus onto the only source of light that illuminated the few pieces of furniture. There, at the left side of the room was a small window, quite peculiar in shape. It looked quite the opposite to the acclimated architecture of the modern society; it was – oddly— round.

Unconsciously, her dark eyebrows furrowed into a frown and panic began to settle in the pit of her stomach. Her breathing accelerated and her focus altered to strong smell of tobacco mixed with a hint of mint that lingered in the air. It filled her lungs with a strange heaviness she could not shake. She swallowed the urge to vomit and squeezed her eyes shut to focus her attention once again on breathing.

Nothing she did improved her state. She was forced to lie immobile, becoming more and more aware of her heart racing in her chest. Regaining her consciousness was a slow process and few minutes passed before she dared to move. She made an attempt to shift her legs into a more comfortable position but only hissed in pain as cold shivers ran up her leg.

God damn it! What in the name of goddess is going on? She thought.

She forgot to breathe, and it was only then that she realised something heavy must be holding her legs down. Forcing herself up with the little strength she had left, she pulled the blanket up and her eyes widened at the sight.

Oh lord- she breathed, her eyes trailing from the-definitely-masculine-legs upwards.

She was now fully aware of another presence in the bed and didn't have to look up to know who the muscular body belonged to.

Her eyes moved upwards to carefully examine the man's near naked body. All he wore were thin cotton pants which rolled up to his knees in his sleep.

Her heart began waltzing faster against her ribcage.

Much to her disapproval she felt the heat of awareness spreading over her body like an electric shock. She wondered whether this feeling whenever near him will ever wear off.

Holding onto that lame excuse of him being her Mate, she let her eyes wander, just for a short moment, drinking in the view of his muscular torso and light lines covering the left side of him. Before she realised what she was doing, her hand stretched towards him, her finger lingering over the four long lines covering his stomach. It did not take long to realise that they were scars inflicted by a wild animal.

Feeling brave, she shifted her eyes upwards and once again found herself at a loss of breath, this time, for a completely different reason.

Anna never really got the opportunity to closely examine him before. She drank in his handsome face, his strong jaw and straight nose. He was simply mesmerising. With no doubt, she could proudly say that never had she seen a man such as he, not even Nate could compete with him. His eyes, now closed, were framed with dark eyelashes, his hair as black as night. Even in his sleep, where one is most vulnerable, power and authority was reigning off of him.

He was an Alpha, the one and only, and there was no doubt about that.

And it was then, as she let her eyes linger on the defined features of his face had she remembered his eyes. The deepest of blues, like two mirrors reflecting the clear afternoon sky. The same eyes that held her captive as he brought up a handkerchief over her mouth.