Truth about our Families

Scott stood in the bathroom, completely bare, his gaze fixed on the mirror in front of him.

His fingers absentmindedly traced the faint red mark on his neck where the vampire's hand had gripped him the night before.

He shivered at the memory, vivid flashes flooding his mind, the sound of the motel window shattering, the cold air of the woods rushing past him as he ran, the crushing grip around his throat, and then the figure of his mysterious savior.

He closed his eyes, trying to piece together the image of the man who had saved him. The memory was frustratingly fragmented, dark eyes, a strong jawline, and a comforting yet overpowering presence.

Who was he? What had happened to him after Scott blacked out? Was he the one that brought him to the hospital?

Scott let out a heavy sigh and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over his body.