Chapter 5 - Rissa
Adrenaline pulses through me like hot licking flames that consume me, keeping my fists tightly wound in Brooks’s fur as he races through the woods. I can sense the demon behind us, but I’m too afraid to look back over my shoulder.
I can hardly believe I just did that. Wielding magic was not on my list of achievements ever since I could remember. In a moment of desperation, watching the sub-Alpha of Snehvolk being overpowered by the demon, the magic sprang out of me without my control or conscious doing.
Too high on the adrenaline coursing through my veins now, I put to rest my raging thoughts, hanging onto Brooks’s fur for dear life. Instead of giving my attention to the malevolent spirit chasing us through the woods, I shut my eyelids and chant the Moon Goddess’s name in desperation.
“Lord Selene…Lord Selene…” I mentally plead for deliverance from this evil, feeling as if my thoughts are not my own when Brooks’s breaths come out in hot, desperate pants as he navigates the forest, heading in the direction of Girdwood.
It’s as if his breath is in sync with my thoughts and utter despair while I cling to him, his agile wolf dodging every obstacle in our way.
The moment I open my eyes for a brief second, I see a thatched-roof hut in the near distance.
Brooks’s pounding, galloping steps take us closer to the tiny structure, and he doesn’t stop running until we’re near enough for him to lift up on his hind legs, kick the door in with his large front paws, and swiftly fling me off his back.
He shifts into human form and quickly steps inside, then spins and slams the door shut.
His head hangs at the closed door, palms flattened on the wooden frame to brace himself into calmness.
“We’re safe here…” he pants unsteadily without turning toward me. “This place is sealed with Luna Aurora’s magic.”
Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived the moment I’m snapped out of my daze and the comfort of the adrenaline that had been keeping me sane.
The breath I let out convulses my body into a chaotic spree of sobs that I spew from deep within, forcing me to throw my head into my trembling hands as I weep.
What the hell just happened?
My fingers remain tingling where I’d expelled magic at the demon in an attempt to save us. I draw them away from my face, my eyes hazy from the tears I’d been shedding, only to stare at my palms in shock and fear of what I’d done, and what I’ve become.
I’d never thought I had it in me, even when Yvonne’s vision was revealed to me last night.
I’d been struggling to accept that I am a witch destined to unlock my powers in the emergence of a mate bond with the sub-Alpha of Snehvolk.
The revelation was enough of a shock to my system, but the unraveling of those powers out of the blue tonight is even more of a shock that has me responding with what feels like the claws of anxiety and panic constricting my throat.
No one in my bloodline has these kinds of gifts, so why me?
It’s too overwhelming, and now that the reality of who I am is cemented, I know there’s no escaping it.
Coughing and spluttering over the panic I’m choking on, I feel it winding through my veins and skittering through my fingers.
Oh no.
I can’t breathe.
I’m having a panic attack.
The panic infiltrating my body doesn’t allow for a sound to escape my lips, keeping me bound to the floor where I’m keeling over myself, unable to pick myself off the spot where Brooks had thrown me to safety. My vision becomes a blur of my trepidation, and I feel my body crumbling just where I am.
A sudden warmth envelops me in its presence, shielding me from the coldness of my panic attack.
I don’t bother to open my eyes, wallowing in my sorrows, while the embrace of strong arms allows me to just be and feel the weight of emotions hanging over me.
Curling into myself against the solid wall of a chest has me finally sobbing again, and it’s a good sign because it means my sensations are returning to me.
“Shh…” I hear a calming voice soothe me through the deafening cries of my anguish. “You’re safe now, Rissa…” Brooks’s voice pushes through the walls of discontent. “The demon dog can’t get to us in here.”
Though he believes I’m panicking over our encounter with the demon we just escaped, I don’t want to correct him, and I can’t seem to push him away, either.
I don’t want his comfort, but his arms wrapped around my fragile frame seem to be calming me down, turning my shallow breaths into longer ones that finally ease the discomfort of the anxious attack.
The claws of anxiety slowly loosen, allowing me to breathe fully and lift my eyes to Brooks’s concerned, radiantly silver eyes as he watches me climb down from the cliff of panic.
Gulping hard, I realize that I’d just basked in the comfort of his protective arms—something I shouldn’t be doing when logic sprouts to mind and throws warning flags all over this situation.
“Sorry,” I apologize flatly, quickly turning my face and becoming rigid and tense in his arms. My response to finding him crouched on the floor, holding me, has him quickly removing his arms and clearing his throat as he gets to his feet.
“I’m fine,” I sniffle, hiding my emotions as quickly as they’d emerged out of nowhere. Curiosity has me glancing off to the side where he stands, and I catch the way he limps off further into the room.
“But you’re not…” The words leave my lips without thinking, and I immediately spring up to my feet when I realize that Brooks had been injured during the attack. It’s evident in the way he’s limping, and by the hand he has pressed to his side.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs as he approaches the bed, throwing himself on the edge with a wince that betrays his assuring words.
Conflicted by the hatred I feel toward him and my instinctive urge to care for the sub-alpha of the werewolf pack I belong to, I blow out a breath through puckered lips and roll my eyes before marching forward.
The tight space means it’s impossible to ignore Brooks’s scent that soon becomes overpowered by the metallic smell of blood when he lifts his T-shirt to expose his brutally slashed ribs.
I suck in a breath through my teeth, sensing his pain almost as if it’s my own.
I flinch as I move around the room, knowing that the small space houses a few supplies that will help me tend to his injuries.
“What are you doing?” Brooks asks, and I can feel his frown boring into the back of my neck as I open the cabinet.
“That needs to be stitched,” I murmur, taking out a first-aid kit from the cabinet, left in case of emergencies like this.
I know my way around, even though I haven’t been to this hut before. I’d even contributed to packing the medical kits that would be left behind in these safehouses; that’s just how close I was to the lunas of the pack.
And that’s why it remains the biggest blow that they didn’t come to me about Yvonne’s vision. Before turning, I shrug diffidently so I don’t have to think about the betrayal right now.
It doesn’t help that I’m angry at my so-called friends as well as the alpha bleeding out on the bed.
Composing myself, I turn to find Alpha Brooks tearing the rest of his T-shirt away, exposing the ghastly injury on his torso. Blood trickles from the gashes made by the demon’s ruthless talons, and Brooks’s flesh is torn too close to his ribs.
I push aside my anger and march toward him, crouching at the foot of the bed and unzipping the medical kit that contains everything I need to make the mending a breeze.
I prepare the suturing needle with thread and gather the ointment that will stop the bleeding and speed up his recovery time.
It’s an ointment I mixed myself after boiling a range of herbs from the gardens behind the clinic in Girdwood.
I never thought that my natural talent for the healing arts meant that I possessed mystical gifts. It’s not magic that compels me to heal the alpha, but instead, the compassion I’ve always shown toward the members of our pack whenever I was needed.
Keeping my eyes pinned to Brooks’s wounds, I hear the way he winces and see the way he squirms when I dab a cotton ball to his ribs, but I refuse to look up. It’s easier to keep my focus on the task at hand, so I don’t hate him too much and leave him to bleed out instead.
It’s a tempting idea, since it’s not like he’ll die from this. It might just give me a unique chance to escape him if I left him like this…
“Why are you so quiet?” Brooks asks, to my surprise.
I look up with a frown, lifting the suturing needle in front of my face. “I’m about to stitch your wounds. Do you need me to sing you a lullaby through it?”
Brooks scoffs and shakes his head while I go back to my work.
“Since when did you become so feisty?” he snickers.
“Since I was forced into this whole scheme,” I murmur before pressing my tongue into my cheek, my eyes narrowing before I pierce the needle through a good spot in his flesh.
Brooks winces lightly, but it extends into a dry chuckle. “Scheme? Is that what you think this is?”
“I don’t know what to think of it, Alpha Brooks. I told you already, I don’t want any of this.”
“You saw what you’re capable of out there. Luna Yvonne’s vision was right. You are a witch.”
“It proves nothing. What about free will?”
“Free will?” Brooks scoffs. “Do you honestly believe that you have free will when it comes to this? Do you think Aurora or Yvonne had any free will when they discovered they were witches?”
I pull the thread deliberately taut in a show of retribution.
“The difference is that both of them didn’t hate their alphas,” I remark with a bitter scoff as I pull the needle away and seal the wound with a gauze strip that sticks to his skin.
“I’m done,” I announce as I pick up the first-aid kit and rise to my feet.
“Oh, so that’s what this is about, huh?” Brooks sneers as he shuffles uncomfortably on the bed. “You hate me?”
I narrow my eyes at him, barely moving my lips when I say, “Can you blame me? You—” I cut my speech off abruptly, not wanting to go down the list of reasons why I hate him.
He doesn’t need to know my weaknesses or that the way he treated me in the past left a scar on me that cannot be seen, unlike his wounds.
Brooks huffs and struggles to his feet, turning his face aside before he staggers to the narrow closet beside the bed.
“I did what, Rissa?” he asks nonchalantly as he pulls out a black T-shirt from the closet. As he pulls it over his head, he turns slyly, his cocked to one side as he regards me. “What did I do that makes you hate me so much?”
I let out a frustrated breath as I spun on my heels to return the kit to the cabinet, huffing and puffing on my way there. I don’t wish to speak about the past.
What does it matter, anyway?
“You could have rejected the Council’s proposal, Alpha Brooks.” I slam the cabinet door with a deliberate bang.
“Well, you seem to recall that I am an alpha,” Brooks muses, and I hear the bed springs creaking under his weight as he lies down. “It’s the only reason I agreed to this whole scheme.”
I turn around slowly, folding my arms over my chest, my eyes flicking to the empty spot beside him.
“We don’t have to pretend that either of us wants this,” I point out with a raised brow.
“I’m not pretending, Rissa,” Brooks scoffs as he pats the empty side of the bed. “You should get some rest. I know I need to.”
As Brooks closes his eyes, I sigh in frustration.
“I’m not sleeping on the same bed as you,” I murmur, standing firmly in place.
Brooks opens one eye and gazes at me measuredly. “Do whatever the fuck you want, Omega. We’re in this situation because of you, anyway. It’s not like we have a choice.”
He presses his lips into a tight line as he turns over on his good side, facing his back to me. I bite my inner lip, contemplating what to do next, when I realize I still have an opportunity to escape when I hear him sigh as if he’s just fallen asleep.
Allowing a few moments to pass to be sure that he’s asleep, I quietly tiptoed to the window to sneak a peek at what I’m dealing with.
I need to gather my sense of direction before I set out, but my plans are thwarted the moment I peek through the tiny slip between the curtain and the window.
The night is dark beyond the window, but it’s blackened by the looming presence of the demon that twists and whirls in torrents of eerie smoke that send shivers down my spine.
Great!
There’s no way I can leave the hut without being caught by the malevolent spirit that circles it as if it’s waiting to get its fix of werewolf blood. Sighing again, I turn to the bed and begrudgingly drag my feet toward it.
If I can’t escape the alpha tonight, I’ll just have to find another window of opportunity to leave. Plucking up the courage to lie down, I keep my body stiff, lying as close to the edge as possible when I close my eyes and let the exhaustion of the day wash over me.