Bearly alive

11

Stella

I remain in my safe place between the shower and the sink despite the loud banging noise that makes the walls shake. Clearly, now I know better than to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s not until I hear a powerful roar similar to an angry thunder, that I piece together that Roman has gone outside. Still, I don’t dare more, my heart still beating as fast as when my back connected to that wall. Not to mention the pain. My wolf is healing me the best she can, but we just had our first real meal today after too many years of eating scraps, so needless to say, she’s not great at it.

Hours pass and there is no sign that Roman has returned. Unless I fell into a deep sleep.

I shake my head and immediately regret the action. My neck is still very painful as is my whole spine. I'm pretty sure something broke and despite my wolf's healing for the past few hours, I still feel like I've been hit by a Jeep. And I should know because I was hit by Alpha Benjamin's Jeep a few years ago. To his defence, not that I would ever defend that cruel, sick man child, but he was learning how to drive at the time.

Turns out that showing off when you barely know which pedals to push and which way to steer can't end well. Not for the Omega you were trying to slowly drive by and then beep the horn to scare her. Somehow, running me over made Benjamin impress his buddies even more, so there's that.

But what's even more twisted is that I'm now thinking that Benjamin, or any other wolf for that matter, has never shown so much brute force in the blink of an eye. Roman opened his eyes and all his raw strength oozed through. I'm also positive he didn't put too much effort into throwing me against that wall, for if he did I may have actually stopped feeling any pain. Cause I'd be dead. Insead, I’m, dare I say, turned on.

Goddess, I need to get my head screwed on straight. Thoughts like this can't possibly be healthy.

Eventually I crawl out of the bathroom. There is still nothing but dead silence in the house. I make it to the door of my bedroom and c***k it open, listening with my ears perked up to the maximum. Nothing.

I open the door but don't get out. Rather I sit very still in the doorway focusing hard to hear even the faintest of sounds. Closing my eyes, I mentally visualise the layout of Roman's house or at least the rooms I have seen so far. It helps fine tune my hearing, as weird as it may sound.

This has always been my superpower. Though every shifter, wolves especially have extremely sensitive hearing. I may be the only one that needs extra focus to do that. I have to be closing my eyes and listening intently, mentally going to check every nook and cranny. I can hear every sound and see in my mind exactly what made that sound and where it is. Of course, it's something I very rarely allowed myself to explore. Concentrating on visualising sound like this leaves me completely exposed to what is happening right next to me. And I've learned the hard way that it's best I always remain aware. At least I can defend myself or turn my body so the blows don’t do more damage than necessary.

After doing my little exercise I'm almost positive Roman didn't come back. I run back to my window that overlooks the back garden, of course, seeing no sign of the man. Not that I expected to magically see Roman chopping down a tree or something.

Purposely avoiding my kidnapper's room, I go about tidying up the rest of the house, which considering I did it yesterday, only took minutes.

By late afternoon I am past the pain from my own injuries and I'm seriously starting to get concerned for Roman's wellbeing. The man is huge and looks like he could take care of himself in any situation, but last night when he left abruptly, he wasn't in a good state of mind. Whatever nightmare plagued his sleep, it looked enough to cause Roman to make mistakes, and take decisions that could cost him.

Of course, this could also be my pathetic way of finding an excuse for his abusive outburst towards me, but I should have just minded my own business. Only go in if there was an actual danger and Roman needed to be awake. The man most likely doesn't feel any mate bond to me, so I kind of get why he reacted the way he did. Which reminds me… I need a way of researching mate bonds between werewolves and other shifters, if they even exist. As heartbreaking as it may be, I have to find a way of ending this.

Much to my frustration, nothing in Roman's small collection of books proves useful. So far I've read some very interesting things about plants and berries that grow in fir forests and have been captivated by a manual on timber maintenance and what type of stain and varnish is best for all seasons protection. Picturing Roman in nothing but ripped old jeans while staining the deck in the back might have helped said captivation, I’m not going to lie.

When I see the golden yellow hue cast by the sun that’s starting to set, I start to get really freaked out that something might have happened and decide that the possible consequences of going in search of my captor are seriously outweighed by the simple fact that I would find him.

The weather outside didn't look too cold, but it didn't scream sundress and sandals either, so I made the best I could between the clothes Roman lent me and my own clothes which at least were clean now, albeit a little on the kitchen rags side.

I had a plan, oh, I had a plan.

Having no clue where Roman's house is located courtesy of being drugged on the way here, I figured it was safe to assume we're in the middle of a forest with little to no other establishment around. Hence why I planned on going outside, walking around to see if I could find a trail first, then stop every 5 minutes or so and just listen. It might have not been the best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

Roman, here I come!

Armed with determination and hopped up on a little adrenaline courtesy to my wolf, I grabbed the handle on the front door.

I don't think I ever screamed like this. Not from pain, because it's not even in the top 10 or worst pains I've ever felt. I screamed purely from fright.

The door is rigged and an electric jolt shook my body the second I touched it. A strong one that I'm pretty sure just curled the ends of my hair. I curse and stop short of kicking the door, but don’t want to risk an axe dropping out of the ceiling and taking my limb off.

Smelling of burnt hair and defeat, I retreat back to my room and wash away the pathetic attempt of going in search of Roman. Only that during my shower, another thought makes my heart beat faster than the moment I realised I didn't give Margo Benjamin's note. Yes, I mean pure fear. Only this time, my fear is that Roman will think I tried to run away.