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Ava had enough, as she slowly seek to die but something happens that change her life!
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There is almost a constant roar, almost ruining his concentration. He shakes his head, trying to wave away the storm’s efforts to distract him. His paws crunch the grass beneath him as he treks deeper into the forest. Trees loom before him, casting their dark shadows over his furry form. Danger is in every direction. But he does not hesitate.
He is fearless.
The presence is growing stronger, the wind sending the scent to his nose. It is a sweet fragrance, one he has never smelt before; a curious mix of strawberries, bananas, some flavor he cannot distinguish, and a tiny splash of mint. It is a delight, an intoxicating smell that he will remember forever, even when this "it" is long dead. He has never experienced this aroma around a werewolf before.
This smell is so sweet, he wonders if a human could have actually wandered into their midst. Humans generally have nice smells, although none as delightful as this one.

The Wolf wouldn't Let Me Go!

Anger pumps through my veins, sparks flying. Who is HE to tell me I can't escape? Even though he's probably right…


"Oh and Ava," he says suddenly, "take this." He offers me a small ring, with an emerald on top. It sparkles in the light, as beautiful as Lucas's eyes. I slip it on my finger, though dubious.


"Is this an engagement ring?" I ask suspiciously. He shakes his head.


"If it was, I would propose," he says obviously, making me feel stupid again. Anger courses through me as I think of the endless amount of days I was going to have to endure this werewolf; one that thinks he is all that...


However, all doom and gloom evaporates as I survey the blood running towards his foot. It is worse now, the thorns growing irritated in the skin. "Lucas," I tell him, squatting down to examine the injury better, "we have to get you a bandage!" I have to admit, it was very nice and heroic of Lucas to save me, and I owe him at least this much concern.


Lucas shrugs, "I'll get it fixed at the mansion. It can wait." His careless attitude is completely opposite from what it should be, reminding me once again that he is not normal.


"No," I say fiercely, "It can't." Opening my backpack, I take a small supply of napkins out of a pocket. Brushing it across the blood, I wipe most of it off so I can get a better view. The thorns protrude from his skin, big ones that would have me in tears. Using my fingers, I carefully pull each one out, trying to ignore the desire pulsing through me. The vulnerability I am displaying to the over-affectionate werewolf.


Lucas shoots me a smile as I take out the last thorn, offering me a hand to help me stand. "Thanks, Ava," he says softly, as if my tiny action means a lot to him. Knowing Lucas, it probably does.


"What about the blood?" I question, looking at his red stained ankles. He shakes his head.


"Don't worry about it. It will heal soon," he assures me, his voice confident. I roll my eyes, and then look to the window. It is dark inside, so I can't see the face, but I am sure the figure is still in there, watching us both. It seemed to be a girl, but I am not sure. All I know is that the person, whatever the gender, wants me dead. The chills are unceasing, biting at me with terrible force.


Lucas turns to the forest behind us, right beyond the meadow. "It's this way," he declares, his tone certain. He whirls back to face me, his arms spread out wide. "Come here," he demands. His eyes are fierce, ordering obedience. Not knowing quite why, I oblige him. He sweeps me into his arms once more, strangely comforting me with his warmth. There is a silence as Lucas grits his teeth, and then he begins to run. Blindingly fast, his legs zoom into the vast underbrush, destination unknown to me. However, at this moment, I don't care. Lucas is the least of my troubles.


The voice still echoes in my head, stirring up fear in my heart. "He is mine."


I watch the scene around me, a blur of green, blue, and brown, with awe. It is so strange, the way everything changes so quickly. It is a collage of the senses, everything mashed together, unable to observe. The only thing that's constant is Lucas, and his huge arms around my form.


Chapter 17