Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
"I will," I promise, hugging her tightly. Christ, I've never been as grateful for Ma as I am in this moment. I may have lost my father as a boy and spent my life in darkness, but I never lacked for love. I never doubted the woman in front of me or her acceptance of me. I've never been a monster to her. In her eyes, I'm still the same little boy I was twenty years ago.
I'm beginning to understand that Dahlia never had that. I grew up in darkness, but she grew up with darkness. She grew up alone. My poor beauty.
"Here," Ma says, thrusting a pair of glasses into my hand. "Take these. They may help."
I haven't worn sunglasses to try to improve my vision in years. They never helped much, but I dutifully place them over my eyes anyway. The film over my vision lightens a shade, but not much. Not enough to be useful.
"Good luck." Ma squeezes my hands tightly.
I stride from the room, praying I find Dahlia. Praying she isn't trying to leave me.
Ah, God. She wouldn't, would she?
No. No. She isn't fucking leaving me. Whatever her father said, whatever she's upset about, I'll find a way to fix it.
As I stumble through the woods, I learn a new appreciation for my beauty and everything she's sacrificed to join me in the dark. How many times has she made this same journey through the trees, unable to see the path before her or the dangers lurking all around? Not too long ago, she allowed me to chase her through these woods without regard for her safety. And she did so willingly, eagerly.
While I've refused to step out of my comfort zone, she's raced out of hers, diving headfirst into my world without complaint. Pursuing her through the woods now, unable to see the world around me, I make a silent vow. No more hiding. No more living a half-life. No more staying frozen in time, clinging to the dark.
I'm giving my beauty the world. It's what she deserves. She'll have her dinners out and shopping malls. She'll have friends in town and trips to wherever her heart desires. Whatever she wants, I'll find a way to give her. She's sacrificed enough. She's given enough.
It's my turn now.
"Dahlia!" I bellow into the woods. "Beauty, where are you?"
I wait for a response, but none comes. Jesus. Where is she?
The last time I chased her through the woods, it was a wicked, carnal game. My future—and possibly her life—depends on me catching her this time.
I stop moving and close my eyes, letting my other senses guide me. They've never failed me before, but this time, the acrid stench of fear is too pungent, the sound of my own heartbeat too loud. I can't shut it off and focus.
I need to focus.
"Draven!" Her piercing scream tears through the forest as if ripped from her throat in pure terror.
"Dahlia!" I roar, charging blindly toward the sound. Ivy tangles around my arms and legs. Branches and tree limbs snap as I grasp them with both hands and simply throw them out of my way. I leave a trail of destruction in my wake.
It doesn't matter that I can't see anything but shadows as I race toward the sound of her screams. I hear her, and that's enough to guide me.
I smell the wolves before I reach her. I can't tell how many or where they are, but their sharp, earthy scent bounces back to me from every direction. Jesus Christ, she's stumbled into the middle of a den. Their angry rumblings break through the haze of fury in my mind a moment later. I don't hesitate to rush forward. Let them come. Let them attack me.
They won't find me easy prey.
I break through the woods into a small clearing.
Dahlia's here. I smell her lavender scent and the sharp musk of terror. The sun is slowly sinking toward the horizon, making it easier to see. Not easy, God no. She's still little more than a haze of light in a wall of fog, but she's my light. My beauty.
Four darker shadows surround her, snarling and snapping. Circling her like she's prey.
I roar in fury and charge forward, not giving them time to attack. This is my forest, and she belongs to me. Nothing, and no one threatens her. I slam into the first wolf, taking it to the ground.
Dahlia screams, a sharp, sustained note of terror that pierces my heart.
"Run," I growl, fighting to get my hands around the throat of the wild animal as it snarls and snaps. As his pack abandons their prey in defense of their packmate. They turn on me with all the viciousness of those who fight and die by fang and claw.
I fling one animal off as another leaps at me. His claws rake down the back of my arm, burning like fire. I bellow a curse and roll to the left, coming up on my haunches.