Memories of him

RENEE'S POV 

A throbbing pain spread across my skull as I drifted between the edge of consciousness and darkness. The taste of copper lingered in my mouth, and the cold, hard surface beneath me sent shivers through my aching body.

I forced my eyes open then froze immediately. Glancing around, I was taken back by my surroundings. 

It was still night and dark but I was in the forest,  in a clearing seated on the grass. 

"What the hell is going on?", I became more dumbfounded when I saw the fire burning in the center. Around the flickering flames, werewolves danced in a primal, almost ritualistic way. Their massive forms twisted and moved in sync with the crackling flames, their growls and howls blending into a haunting melody that sent shivers down my spine.

They were all happy except me.

I tried to move, but immediately frowned when I noticed that my wrists were bound behind me and the rough bite of rope was cutting painfully into my skin with each struggling movement. My legs were free, but what good would that do me against an entire pack?

I was also so cold that I couldn't feel my fingers. The warm fire was right there, yet so far away.

My eyes skimmed the dancing werewolves, almost curiously. Some of them were painted with black paint; some of them were wearing animal skin. The women wore intricate braids woven with bones and beads, their eyes gleaming in the firelight. The men bared their chests, their skin streaked with dark markings, moving in sync with the rhythmic pounding of a distant drum.

The whole scene was weird to a human like me.

I didn't  know whatever this was, but this wasn’t just a celebration.

It was a ritual.

A shiver ran down my spine, not just from the cold but from the realization that I was part of whatever this was.

A sacrifice.

Just like my brother.  

"You will also join him later", The strong werewolf's words echoed in my head and my breath quickened instantly. 

I tugged against the ropes again, ignoring the sting in my wrists. But it was useless. They were tied too tight.

I spotted the man who would surely be the one to end me. The one who was feared by the other three werewolves. 

He was seated on the ground, relaxed back against a log. There were two beautiful women under his arms, dragging their hands up and down his ripped abdomen, giving him a massage.

His golden eyes were flickering in the firelight, unreadable as he watched the chaos unfold before him. He looked like a king surveying his kingdom, completely at ease despite the raw, wild energy crackling in the air.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms as I glared at him. How could he be so relaxed when I was bound and helpless, waiting for whatever sick ritual they had planned for me?

As if sensing my stare, his gaze slowly shifted to mine. The moment our eyes met, my breath hitched.

Something dark and knowing gleamed in those golden irises.

He smirked.

I felt sick immediately. It was my turn to die.

One of the women leaned up, whispering something into his ear. He didn’t look away from me. He simply tilted his head slightly, listening, before responding with a quiet chuckle.

Then, without warning, he pushed both women off him and stood.

The pack stilled.

My body locked up as he strode toward me, his powerful frame moving with predatory ease. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his exposed chiseled features, making him look even more dangerous.

I could see his biceps, his quads, his pecs, all of it - he had truly built himself into a weapon. His whole demeanor demanded attention, respect, and loyalty.

He stopped just a foot away, towering over me and I felt my heart pump blood at a pretty good speed.

What was he going to do to me now?

How much longer did I have to live?

"Tell me your name," He didn't ask, he instead ordered, his eyes not leaving mine. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and refused to reply. I just kept thinking about my dead brother.

His jaw twitched at my silence, but instead of anger, I saw amusement flicker in his golden eyes.

"You’re already stubborn," he mused, his voice deep and laced with something unreadable. "That will make this... interesting."

I clenched my jaw, my fingers twitching against the ropes binding me. Every instinct screamed at me to stay silent, to not give him even the smallest piece of myself. He had already taken my brother from me, he wouldn’t take anything else.

But he wasn’t a man who tolerated defiance.

Before I could react, he crouched in front of me, gripping my chin between his fingers. His touch was firm, and painful on my already damaged jaw.

"I asked you a question."

His breath was warm against my face, laced with something dark and dangerous. I refused to flinch, though every nerve in my body screamed at me to run.

"Go to hell," I spat.

The pack around us chuckled, their laughter low and eerie.

His smirk widened, as if he enjoyed my resistance. Then, without warning, his grip tightened, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"I own hell, little human," he murmured. "And now, I own you. I'm gonna leave you on this tree tied up and let my pack do whatever they want with you", 

"Nooo..  I'm Renee I retorted immediately.

"One name just like a dog?", He snorted. "Renee Miller", I replied quickly all because I wanted to be untied from the tree. 

"I'm gonna have fun breaking this stubbornness out of you", He spoke, his hand trailing down between my breasts. When he reached the rope tied around my torso, his fingers pulled at it, easily yanking it off me. Once the rope crumbled to the ground, I took a deep breath, feeling as if I could properly breathe now. I hugged myself, feeling uncomfortable underneath his heated gaze.

"Follow me"
Not Meant To Be Mates
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