What Remains: #PNR Short Story Part II

silver wolf shonda brock 2

Read Part I

The wolf stood by and watched the car spin three times before it hit the light pole and flipped two times in the air before coming to a halt upside down on the far side of the road. He knew the area. There would be no emergency vehicles for another hour or two. The highway was barely in use after primetime rush hour.

But what made him stay was the look in her eyes. She was so stunning, but her eyes held nothing but ‘Whys’. How could one so lovely hold no fire and no need? What had she seen or been through that left her empty?

The wolf sprinted across the highway towards the vehicle. He had every intension to have answers. Why would she care so much for his life to hit the brakes, but have no fire in her eyes for her own?

Nearing the car he was bombarded with odors: gas, oil, freshly turned soil, scorched rubber and finally blood. It was definitely blood coming in strong beneath everything else. He used his front paws and dug through dirt on the driver’s side. When the debris and dirt were gone there was a white powered deflated bag. He knew immediately the air bags were deployed and now he felt the heat from the other side. His heightened senses told him he had a matter of seconds before the car would blow.

He used his sharp claws and tore through the airbags until he smelled flesh and his paws touched her soft skin. The wolf exchanged claws for teeth; he lowered his head down pulling at the back of her neck, trying to catch the neckline of her clothing. His lips pulled back using his front small teeth. Finally he caught her and began pulling.

Within seconds he pulled her from the scene. Once he was clear, he looked around to ensure no one was close and switch position from pulling from behind to grabbing the front of her clothing and dragged her to the wood line. There he began licking her face and sniffing trying to assess the damage.

Would she live or would she die? He couldn’t tell in this form. He shifted life-forms like changing his mind. He turned into a man.

Angela began to cough as she came back around. The pain was still strong, but she knew she was not in the car. She was too cold and she felt the tiny misty raindrops slowly damping her clothes, but there were hands in her hair and they continued down her limbs. They were warm and tender and she was too hazed to know any better. She slowly opened her eyes and a naked man was tending to her, searching her for something. She tried to move. The tenderness and serenity she felt from those hands were gone and were replaced by fear, but when she moved Angela caused more pain reporting in from all body parts; head, forehead arms, back and legs. The pain destroyed her will to move and destroyed her fear.

“Hold still, I think you’ve broken quite a bit.”

“Who are you?” She whispered.

Their eyes met again. Angela knew those eyes. She felt blinding pain on every breath, but she was not crazy, her mind was still intact. Those eyes, she wouldn’t forget those questioning eyes, those steely blue grey eyes, “How?” And her card catalog flipped back to the last image it was called upon, not Wolf but Werewolf. She looked up at the sky, there was still light out, but it was dark enough to see the moon. It was full, looking like a pearl covered in a thin layer of clouds.

Would this be her end, driving to a dinner meeting for work, and then torn apart by car accident and her final sight would be a naked stranger, a werewolf with stunning eyes? Those eyes, the eyes of a wolf whose skin almost mirrored the color of the moon. Where was this man before when life mattered? Why did he come into her life when she was nothing and had nothing to offer? This wasn’t a little thing anymore this was a big thing. This was death.

“Why did you hit the brakes?” His conversation broke off, he smelled her blood; it was calling to his wolf. The blood was coming faster. He found the wound. It was internal. Fresh bright red blood was coming out of her mouth. He never thought of the scent of blood as being tasty or even erotic. The scent of blood was a tool he used to hunt by, yet now the scent of her blood made him woozy and he couldn’t get enough. This woman who meant nothing who was dying somehow meant something. He had an urge to save her life. His wolf wanted to protect her with his life.

The male wolf looked around again, demanding his senses to scan the area. “We don’t have much time and I don’t have time to explain. People will come, but not in enough time to save your life. A life I can see from your eyes that you’ve already given up on. But there’s something still in you I can sense it. Do you want to live? I can save you but you won’t be the same. Nothing will be the same. You have to decide now.”

Angela listened to the naked man following his words and weighting them all the while trying to stay focused as pain tried to be her sole thought and her breathing began to be a struggle. She wanted to focus. ‘He wants you to make a decision,’ she heard herself saying internally. ‘You… must … decide.’

She stared into those steely eyes, unable to move, unable to decide, there was so much pain between him and his words. A decision was too far of a reach.

“No answer is not an answer, you must tell me now if you want to live.”

Angela laughed inside but it came out as a cough. She tried to breathe normally, but a tangy flavor on the back of her tongue surprised her as she began to speak. It was more blood. Time was running out. She didn’t have enough wind to speak. She knew life was real and always had lessons to teach. Here she was on her deathbed being told she had to take action.

“Do you want to live?” he asked one final time not knowing why he cared so. He had seen death before but couldn’t figure out why hers mattered? There he saw it. It was a spark, and then it turned into a fire. It was the most fire he had ever seen in any woman. She didn’t speak. He knew not her name, but he knew she wanted to live. She had fire in her eyes that called to his wolf as she shook her head ‘Yes.’

The inner wolf demanded to be free. Every primal instinct rushed all over his senses. Vaughn switched back to wolf form with a need to take what was his. The wolf and he were as one as he claimed the stranger, whose blood called to him like no other. It must be right; he knew to follow the full moon and his wolf’s spirit. Vaughn bit down and drank her blood. He allowed the mixing of his breed and howled at the moon for the birth of his mate.

At that moment a decision was made and action was taken. Angela opened her new eyes.

***

Werewolf moon

 

Photo credit

Wolf

About shondabrock

I'm a southern in my heart and a northern in my soul. I've had a few bad wines, but for the most part I've enjoyed enough good wines that it makes up for the few bad bottles. I enjoy writing, but more than writing itself, I love telling a good story, taking my reader off on an adventure starting with "What If"…. I'm a sucker for the Paranormal Romance genre. To me, its nice to be released from "What Is Expected" and believe for 250 pages in "What If's". Its like a vacation with out passports, waiting in line and an expensive credit card bill when you return home. Please Enjoy, but more importantly Stay Inspired…
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One Response to What Remains: #PNR Short Story Part II

  1. Pingback: What Remains: #PNR Short Story Part I | Shonda Brock Paranormal Romance Author

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