Lyra’s POV
As I transitioned into my wolf form and darted into the woods, contemplation seized my thoughts.
Every onlooker cast a glance filled with shock and disdain, except for my brother, whose expression reflected satisfaction, yearning for nothing but my happiness.
My wolf, too, echoed my fear, tearing through the woods with swift urgency, disturbing dry leaves and snapping sticks in the obscurity of the night.
She halted before the mountain standing resolute, a forbidden boundary I dared to cross. Resuming control, I shifted back, fixing my gaze on the formidable peak. Moments lingered in contemplation.
The heat at home was oppressive, and escaping seemed a tempting choice.
What's the worst that could happen? I preferred confronting the unknown beyond the mountain to facing Maximus and my father.
Returning to my human form, my wolf skillfully ascended the mountain, and after what felt like an eternity, we emerged on the other side, greeted by dense woods.
"Are you sure about this?" My wolf inquired.
"Yes, we'll be fine."
We walked the forest for an extended period, weariness settling upon both my wolf and me. Finding a snug spot amidst the bushes, I shifted to my human form and lay down.
The consequences of my actions weighed heavily. The cold air induced shivers, and I curled up. Sleep eluded me until the early hours of the morning.
Awakening to a distant sound, a sense of presence to something significant lingered.
"What is that smell?" I questioned my wolf, met with silence. An unfamiliar scent extended throughout the air.
Intrigued yet uneasy, I shifted back to my wolf form and approached the mysterious fragrance.
Before us emerged a man, terror etched across his face as he gazed at my wolf. In an instant, he let out a piercing scream. Terrified, my wolf and I let out a collective howl.
Swiftly regaining control, I shifted back, witnessing the man's eyes widen in awe before he crumpled to the ground.
Concerned, I approached and bent down for a closer inspection. His features were strikingly handsome, his physique well-built.
"He is a human," my wolf pointed out.
"Obviously."
Tales of human wickedness and danger echoed in my mind, yet encountering one was bizarre. Humans and wolves had never coexisted. I used to believe they were mere myths.
Torn between leaving and aiding him, I paced a few steps away, repeatedly drawn back by an inexplicable force.
He didn't exude the danger described in stories. My wolf remained undisturbed as I lingered, studying him.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, widened in awe once more. Hoping he wouldn't faint again, I prepared to retreat, but he called me back.
With a shirt in hand, he gestured I should wear it. Fixing his gaze into the woods. Hesitant, I recognized my nakedness was unsettling him.
I accepted the shirt, realizing it was generously sized, given his huge stature. The fabric draped down to my thighs as I wore it.
"Who are you? A human? Some kind of werewolf? Do you have a name?" He bombarded me with questions.
Amid his unending questions, I maintained a stoic expression, my contemplation visible in the subtle furrow of my brows.
"Can you even hear me?" he asked again. I scoffed, arching an eyebrow with a hint of amusement, my eyes revealing a glimmer of indifference.
"So, you can hear me!" His joy-filled exclamation prompted genuine laughter from me, the sound unexpectedly softening the atmosphere.
"I've never seen anything like you," he admitted hastily, a mix of curiosity and bewilderment in his gaze.
In response, I raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him to elaborate.
"I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed by these emotions," he confessed, a vulnerability surfacing in his expression. Momentarily breaking the rhythm of his questions.
"I'm George. Can you please tell me your name?" he pleaded, his eyes holding a sincere request for connection.
After a moment's hesitation, I relented, revealing my name with a subtle softening in my tone.
"What are you doing here? Where do you come from?" The barrage of questions continued.
Standing there, undisturbed, I mused over the ceaseless chatter, observing the flow of emotions in the human before me. Are humans always this noisy? I thought to myself.
My stomach growled, a reminder of the hunger lingering since the disastrous dinner. Suppressing the discomfort, I held my stomach.
"Are you hungry?" he inquired, but I remained quiet.
"What type of food do you eat? Do you hunt or something?" he persisted. Frustrated, I decided to put an end to the interrogation.
"Yes, and I only hunt humans," I deadpanned.
"Wait! What?" He flinched, and I sighed, rubbing my temple unenthusiastically.
"I was just joking," I retorted.
"heh" he exclaimed.
Realizing the joke, he brought up a suggestion.
"You seem far from home. Can you come with me? I'll get you something to eat.”
Having nowhere else to go and nothing to eat, I agreed. We walked for a while until we reached a cottage.
Entering, I observed its modest size. Though not comparable to my home, the prospect of a meal and rest comforted me.
"Have a seat," he gestured towards a cushion in what appeared to be the sitting room.
While he retrieved a shirt from another room, I couldn't resist but asked.
"Is this your place?"
"No, well yes. It's a getaway cabin owned by my late grandfather, but my family hardly visits, so it's mostly in my care," he explained with a nostalgic gaze, as if recalling memories of the place.
Making his way to the kitchen, he turned back, the subtle play of sunshine accentuating the outline of his face.
"What would you like me to fix for you?" he inquired, genuine curiosity etched across his features. I shrugged in response.
As he swiftly prepared a meal, the rhythmic dance of his movements unveiled a quiet strength, and I couldn't help but notice the way his muscles moved beneath his skin.
His hands, skillfully navigating the ingredients, hinted at a familiarity with the culinary arts.
Caught in this unexpected moment, I found myself mesmerized by the variation of his appearance.
He caught me looking at him, I shifted my gaze swiftly, now he'll think I'm weird. I sucked my teeth in embarrassment.
The play of sunlight revealed the warmth in his eyes, and I became acutely aware of the forbidden nature of our encounter.
Yet, in this cabin, I allowed the unfolding of fate, a delicate dance between worlds.
George’s POV I watched her devour the food swiftly. For someone of her stature, her appetite surprised me. Thousands of questions danced in my mind, eager to escape my lips. The tales of werewolves, once dismissed as mere myths, unfolded before my disbelieving eyes. In her, I beheld a beauty so rare, a beauty that transcended mere humanity. Her charm, a potent blend of beauty and a captivating physique, left me momentarily breathless. She caught my gaze, and embarrassment washed over me, prompting me to clear my throat quickly. "I must be quite the chef," I remarked, a swell of pride in my voice. She responded with a cool dismissal. "No, I'm just hungry." A sting of sarcasm laced her words, a trait I found oddly adorable. "Thank you," she murmured. Smiling, I blurted. "I'd gladly cook for you for the rest of my life." However, my attempt at charm was met with a scornful glance. "Hmmph," she exclaimed. She prepared to leave, but I impulsively halted her. "Wait!" "Have you
Lyra’s POV As my wolf neared the cottage, I observed George in a state of panic outside. Taking charge, I shifted. Surprisingly, he hurried towards me and enveloped me in an embrace. “Mate,” resonated my wolf's voice. “But he's human, how is that possible?” I inquired, yet silence met my question, not that her silence was an unfamiliar response. Against all odds, it seemed we were descending into something inexplicable. “You do realize I'm undressed, right?” were the words that escaped my lips. "Oh! I apologize," he muttered, turning away and swiftly taking off his shirt, his gaze avoiding mine. I pondered why he was making such a fuss. We were right in front of the house, and I intended to step inside and grab a dress. Encountering him shirtless again was nearly unbearable. He resembled a perfect Greek god. "Where did you go?" he inquired. "I went for a run with my wolf," I replied nonchalantly. "Lyra, no one can see your wolf. No one must know you're a werewolf," he cau
Lyra’s POV I was taken aback by my father's harsh words, his departure leaving behind a void devoid of remorse. "Don't worry, sister," Damian consoled. "He's just angry. I'm sure he'll come around." "Where's mother?" I managed to ask through the turmoil of emotions. "She must be inside. Let's go to her," Damian suggested in his presence, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. As we entered, my eyes sought out my mother, and I rushed to her, seeking solace in her embrace. However, her response was not as warm as I had hoped. "Sit, Lyra," she said calmly, her voice carrying a weight of disappointment. "Damian, could you give us some space?" she requested. He nodded understandingly and retreated, leaving us alone in her chambers. "I'm so sorry, Mother," I pleaded, my words heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to bring you shame. Please forgive me.” "Hmm," was her only response. "Father said some hurtful words to me. Please, help me plead on my behalf," I pressed on, desperate for
Lra’s POV My journey stretched on longer than before, each step weighed down by the burden of sadness that clung to me like a cloak. When I finally shifted back, I found myself shivering in the cold, the thin dress Damian had included in the bag offering little protection against the biting wind. Despite my exhaustion, sleep eluded me until the early hours of the morning, when sheer weariness finally overcame the ache in my heart. When I awoke, hunger gnawed at me. With trembling hands, I reached into the bag and retrieved some fruits, devouring them hungrily before pressing on. As night fell once more, I found myself alone in the darkness of the woods, the eerie silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The next morning, weary and famished, I finally reached George's doorstep and knocked. He opened the door, my face drawn and distressed. Without a word, he enfolded me in a warm embrace. "You look so pale. Are you okay?" he asked, concern
Lyra's POVThe next morning, as the sun cast its gentle glow through the windows of the cottage, George approached me with a look of determination in his eyes."I have something important to discuss with you," he announced, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.I nodded, eager to hear what he had to say, though my heart fluttered with anticipation."You see, I'm a businessman," George began, his words carefully chosen. "And while I sought refuge in this secluded cottage to escape the chaos of the city, it's time for me to return."My breath caught in my throat. "So, I get to stay here, right?" I asked, trying to mask the disappointment that threatened to surface. But George shook his head, his gaze unwavering."No, I want you to come with me. I can't bear the thought of leaving you alone in this secluded place."A rush of warmth flooded my chest at his words, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection f
Lyra’s POVEntering the city, the uproar of sounds assaulted my heightened senses, causing my nose to bleed.The relentless sound of vehicle horns, machinery whirring, angry drivers, children's voices, and a lot of other noises overwhelmed me.The mixture of scents, from people, dogs, food, and countless other odours, only added to my disorientation."Are you okay?" George's voice cut through the chaos, his concern evident in both his tone and his eyes."I will be. Let's get to your place," I managed to reply.He handed me his handkerchief to contain the flow of blood from my nose, and with a sense of urgency, he navigated through the congested streets. Each passing moment felt like an eternity until finally, we arrived at his residence.Thankfully his house was situated in a calm neighborhood, a stark contrast to the chaotic streets we had just passed. As the driver opened the gates, my eyes widened in awe at
Lyra's POV Before evening, George had arranged for a cage for my parrot. As we sat down for dinner in the elegant dining room, the ambience was disrupted when I reached for the cutlery. To my horror, the silver utensils burned my skin, emitting a sizzling sound upon contact. I flinched, dropping them immediately. “What's wrong?” George's voice was filled with concern as he noticed my distress. “I believe these are pure silver,” I whispered, my hand throbbing from the burn. George swiftly fetched the first aid kit, tending to my injured hand with a gentle touch. “I'm sorry,” he apologized, but I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. It was I who should have been apologizing for causing him undue stress. After bandaging my hand, George instructed the maids to replace all the silverware in the kitchen with golden ones before the next morning. Despite their confusion, they nodded and left to fulfil his request. “I'm sorry,” I murmured, feeling the weight of my abnormality. “Don't
George's POVIt was as if Lyra had been intentionally pushing me off all day. Despite sensing her mischievous intent, I brushed it off, attributing her behaviour to the headache she had been complaining about.When I awoke in the dead of night, a nagging feeling compelled me to check on her. As I entered her room, the empty bed sent a chill down my spine.My initial thought of her being in the bathroom dissolved into a grim realization, she might have ventured out to shift.My gaze darted to the parrot perched in its cage. "You understand me, don't you? Where is Lyra?" I demanded, struggling to decipher its frantic squawks.A sense of urgency gripped me as I pleaded, "She could be in danger out there. Can you help me find her?"Whether the bird comprehended my plea or not, it promptly took flight the moment I opened its cage. "Well, I guess I'm on my own," I muttered to myself.Without hesitation, I grabbed a large s