WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

Three hundred seconds.

I counted, still staring at the strange entrance I crawled into earlier. It looked surprisingly big now I was staring at it from the inside, completely different from how it was before I entered. It was big enough for the rogues to follow me inside, but they didn't. And I was grateful for this.

Since I couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, I focused more on my injured leg that wasn't throbbing as much as before, but it wasn't healing either. I decided to transform back to my human form.

I sat on the cold floor. My clothes were torn from my transformation, but I didn't care. The danger I just escaped from made me unbothered about my appearance, since there was no one around. I'd looked around the dark building earlier, and listened for sounds. I didn't see or hear any from within, so being barely covered was the least of my worries.

I stared at the horrible injury. Five claw marks disfigured my beautiful leg. They weren't bleeding anymore, but the sight of my bare flesh wasn't appealing to look at.

"We finally meet, Penelope."

My head snapped in the direction of the familiar beautiful voice from inside the building. The red, long hair that tumbled over her shoulders to her knees in soft waves, the beautiful yellow gown with a unique flowery design. I held my opened mouth.

This wasn't something I could misunderstand. It was the same woman from my dream.

How was it possible?

Am I dead?

Is this also a dream?

"It's not a dream, Penelope," her beautiful voice resounded in my ears.

I gulped as chills traveled through my skin. She can hear my thoughts.

She smiled beautifully at me. Her smile was so charming that for some seconds, all I did was bask in her beauty.

Unlike my dream where I could barely see her delicate facial features, I could see them clearly now. Large, almond-shaped eyes, with irises that sparkled like emeralds in the sunlight, framed by long, dark lashes that curled naturally. Her cheekbones were high and elegant, accentuating the graceful contours of her face.

She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful beings I'd stumbled across.

"So how are you here? And how do you know my name?" I said, finally breaking out of my daze.

"You have a lot of questions that you need answers to, some of which I may not be able to provide answers to right now," she clicked her tongue, "but I am not the enemy, and you don't have to be scared of me."

She took six steps closer, and I pushed myself backward, away from her. "Am I dead?"

Her brows, those perfectly arched brows, crumbled at my question. "You are not dead, Penelope."

She walked even closer, and I scrambled backward until I hit the wall behind me, and there was no more place to run to. She was too perfect. Her perfection made me uneasy, and she could read my mind. This wasn't normal. It was also impossible to process.

She didn't stop until she was so close to my feet, and she bent down. Her long gown spread around her feet, touching my folded legs slightly.

She pulled out a small dagger from behind her dress. At the sight of the dagger, I held my breath, even as she lifted it to her palm. Slowly, holding my terrified gaze, she sliced her palm, her blood circling around the cut.

I didn't release my breath even as she brought her injured palm to the dreadful cut on my leg. I wanted to resist, to pull away, but I couldn't. It was like an invisible force held me in place.

Carefully, she squeezed her palm and her blood, in drops, fell on my cut. It was warm against my damaged skin, and she dropped a handful on it. It made me wonder how deep she cut herself just to do this.

After her little act, she retracted her hand and held her knees, watching my injury.

I was taken aback by her action, but when my eyes returned to my injury, my surprise was replaced with confusion. I watched my torn flesh come together until it closed, leaving not as much as a scar. She had special abilities, just like Alexander, except that she could heal with her blood. How was this possible? It was both terrifying and intriguing at the same time.

Who is this woman?

She smiled at the rapid recovery, and finally stood to her feet. Bringing out a fabric from behind her dress, she wiped her blood from the dagger, before placing it behind the hem of her dress where she initially brought it from.

"Am I scaring you, Penelope?" I could swear there was regret in her tone.

Thanks to Alexander, this wasn't as scary as the first time I had seen it. The only difference was that I didn't know what being she was. I couldn't sense her wolf, neither did I sense any strange aura from her. Her animosity about her being was the only terrifying thing.

"Not your actions, but I can't tell who you are," I admitted.

For a second, surprise gleamed in her eyes but it disappeared almost immediately, like I'd imagined it.

"You can't sense me?" She asked, like it was a bad thing that I couldn't sense her, "Is it because you don't know yet?" She soliloquized, lost in her own thoughts.

"Know what?" I asked, confused by her question.

My question brought her back to reality, and she stretched her hand toward me. "Why don't you come with me, so I can answer your question?" She asked with a broad smile that was enchanting.

I looked at her hand skeptically. Even if she made me believe she wasn't going to hurt me by healing my wound, I didn't trust her completely. There was something about her that felt odd. Still, I was curious about what she meant by her question, things she asked herself rather, but I heard thanks to my good hearing abilities.

As I took her hand, her smile vanished, and her face grew serious. Something dangerous flickered in her eyes.