07

Jodie backed away from him, a startled sound escaping her lips. It was no longer a dream, though she kept pinching herself, trying to wake up. He was really there, in front of her.

Draped in black clothes and matching combat boots, he and his entourage were a sight for future nightmares. They were large, tall, and formidable but he was the alpha. The scent was all over him, an intoxicating, heavy spice that made her skin tingle. He was nothing like the alpha or any of the warriors at the whispering moon, or the rogues she'd recently decapitated. Was she in danger? She thought, frantically waiting for someone to attack.

Her eyes darted around the similar black paint smeared across the faces of the others, and then the different weapons they wielded. They weren't demons; however, she couldn't help but liken them to one. The grim expressions on their faces as they quietly observed her every move, like a specimen under a microscope, scared her. They looked angry.

Suddenly, one stepped forward from behind his alpha, scaring the breath right out of her. She jerked again, reaching for a jagged pebble, which she raised in her defense. After all, it wouldn't be the first time a stone brought down a mighty man.

"Relax; I only wish to return your bag. We found it a mile away from here," he explained in a deep, forceful voice, dropping the bag at her feet.

Glancing briefly at it, she didn't let down her guard even as he retreated to his initial position. Her gaze returned to the alpha. He, like the others, was silently observing as her piercing green eyes focused on him too. The face paint had altered his looks, but she was most certain he was the one she'd seen. She killed him in her vision. Was it possible they would attack, and the bizarre incident with the rogues would repeat itself?

As if sensing her thoughts, her wolf stirred within, making its presence known to her. She wasn't alone. It was then she noticed her heightened senses. Her sight was more precise, her hearing was sharper, and she smelled better. The discovery was good to know, and it took a good deal of restraint not to smile.

The alpha noticed even the slightest twitching of her lips. He was very attentive. And going by the dream, good-looking too. Wide awake right now, she couldn't decide if he was still an attractive devil or one who was as ugly as in. It was difficult to infer anything with the black face paint matching his eyes and hair color. His facial structure appeared to consist of a straight nose, high cheekbones, and a hard-looking mouth. His hair was shoulder-length, and from where she sat, he was as tall as a pine tree.

The raw strength radiating from him suggested he wouldn't even flinch if she tried to stab him. But he wasn't a god or a demon. He was just a werewolf, maybe even a very ruthless Alpha, yet still just a werewolf who was fated to die by her hands. Her visions were never wrong. Once and for all, she pushed back her fear and rose to her feet.

"I asked a question, who are you?" She repeated with as much courage as she could summon. If he was going to be a problem, what would he say?

Ares shrugged, moving to stand just a step away from her. Instinctively, she took a step back, and he took another forward, quite invested in invading her personal space. He could read her like a book; her face might be drawn in a defiant line, but her heart was racing. Her anxiety saturated the air, leaving a thick saltiness that was partially hormonal. She could immediately tell what impact it was having on him; whether he recognized it or not, her fragrance was causing his muscles to clench and his jaw to tense. That was why he was staring at her, immovable, his gaze fierce in the darkness. He was taking her in, smelling her, reading her, and studying her.

Then he pulled out a white handkerchief from somewhere within his black attire and pressed it to her face. Her body tensed, but she didn't move. Be it courage or simply a delayed response, she remained transfixed as he wiped off blood and dirt from her face. When he finished, her face was bright red, and he couldn't tell if he had been too hard on her delicate skin or if she was blushing. He also pulled out a leaf and a few twigs that had stuck to the curls of her hair during her fight.

She finally reacted when he took her hand, pried the stone from her fingers, and tossed it away. Assuming it to be a show of his apparent physical superiority, Jodie stomped her foot hard on top of his in retaliation, but he didn't even flinch. She was the one who doubled over from the searing pain that shot up from her instep and grabbed his arm so she wouldn't fall to the ground.

The blasted guy was harder than he looked! As she wriggled off the pain, the warmth of his fingers entwined with her own, and everything changed. A familiar humming, one she only heard on the rare occasions she was about to see into the future, sounded in her ears. With her eyes wide open, Jodie began to shake. The man before her, his men, and the forest faded softly into nothing, and the noise of their concern seemed very far away as she saw another vision.

It was raining heavily outside a small cabin. Inside, a man and a young woman were engaged in a heated struggle. As a large clock struck twelve, the man's hand snaked through the girl's hair and yanked her hard. She fell back against him, and a blade pressed against her neck.

Unyielding, she stomped on his feet firmly, hoping the pain would temporarily distract him. It worked. His grasp relaxed, and she whirled to punch him squarely. He crashed against a dresser, and the old television on top of it toppled and smashed against the floor. The knife flew and landed somewhere in the room while she ran for the door. But he wasn't done. He crashed into her from behind, and she knocked her head against the sharp, hard corner of a bedside table. He turned her over and climbed on top of her. Nose bloody, mouth pulled into a grimace, eyes wild with rage; his hands closed around her neck. Her arms fly around aimlessly, thrashing against his sheer strength and weight. She felt something around his neck, and she yanked it hard. It was a hexagonal crystal pendant.

"What's wrong?" In the present, a confused Ares is finally speaking to Jodie, aware of the strange change in her countenance. She was staring into space, her face white, like she'd seen a ghost.

Jodie didn't hear him.

She watched in horror as the man in her vision didn't relinquish his hold on the girl's neck. Soon enough, all the fight drained from her body, and her lifeless arms dropped to the floor. Only then did he get off her, panting. He stood for a brief moment, staring at her lifeless body. Then, slowly, he pried the pendant from her grip and left the room. Several moments passed, and Ares burst into the cabin with some wolves. At the sight of the girl's lifeless body, he gathered her into his arms and let out a broken cry.

Jodie fainted.