Introduction
Lui l'aveva rifiutata per primo, non c'era modo che lei gli permettesse di superare le sue difese e entrare direttamente nel suo cuore. Così chiuse tutte le porte, serrò le finestre e le bloccò per sicurezza. Ma quando arrivò la notte, lui non si presentò solo alla sua porta - sfondò anche la finestra. Perché per lei, non sarebbe mai stato ragionevole.
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About Author

Amina Adamou
Chapter 1
Passato
Se avessi saputo cosa mi aspettava quel giorno, avrei saltato la scuola. Cambiato stato. Assunto una nuova identità - diamine, avrei fatto anche un intervento di chirurgia plastica se necessario. Qualsiasi cosa pur di evitare il giorno più umiliante della mia vita.
Ma ovviamente non potevo prevedere il futuro e così, ignara, ero andata a scuola come qualsiasi altro studente infelice. Peggior errore di sempre.
Mi feci strada tra i corpi in movimento, testa bassa, cercando di apparire il più piccola e invisibile possibile. La campanella era suonata e la maggior parte delle persone si affrettava verso le classi, solo pochi si attardavano agli armadietti. Senza dubbio pianificando di saltare la lezione o forse solo godendosi ancora qualche minuto di libertà. Non avevo quel privilegio, ero più preoccupata di uscire dal corridoio. In fretta. Il posto era un campo di battaglia quando eri in fondo alla catena alimentare.
E come da copione, una spinta da un passante invisibile - una ovviamente troppo forte per essere accidentale - mi fece precipitare in avanti. Sussultai, le palme alzate riflessivamente. Era inutile però, stavo per schiantarmi e qualche povero disgraziato davanti a me sarebbe stato un danno collaterale. Feci una smorfia.
Le mie palme entrarono in contatto con un corpo. Ma non caddi.
Le mie dita si arricciarono sopra una parete muscolare ferma, lo strato di tessuto sotto di essa di cotone e incapace di nascondere un battito cardiaco irregolare che rispecchiava il mio. Una scossa di elettricità mi attraversò il palmo, su per le braccia e fino alla punta dei piedi.
Respirai tremante. Anche se eravamo in uno spazio affollato e i miei sensi da lupo mannaro non erano mai stati così forti, il suo profumo era travolgente. Pino, erba, un accenno di colonia. Odorava di bosco, pensai, anche se non sembrava che ci fosse mai stato vicino. Indossava pantaloni neri, una maglietta bianca pulita e scarpe da ginnastica. I miei occhi andarono più in alto, oltre una mascella rasata, un naso storto e infine si fermarono su un paio di orbite gelide. Erano socchiuse, e appartenevano anche a Kane Wilder.
Il figlio dell'alfa che avevo visto solo da lontano. Che era andato dallo zio per l'estate e doveva tornare oggi. Era tutto ciò di cui tutti a scuola stavano spettegolando, dopotutto.
Spostai lo sguardo momentaneamente. Le poche persone rimaste nel corridoio stavano tutte fissando. Il coniglio era letteralmente caduto tra le braccia del lupo. Immagino si stessero chiedendo se avrebbe preso un morso da me o qualcosa del genere. Non riuscivo a importarmene.
Ma quando Kane mi lasciò andare, con espressione impassibile, sentii il mio viso scaldarsi. Grazie alle stelle la mia pelle era abbastanza scura da non far vedere il rossore o sarei stata un pomodoro ambulante la maggior parte del tempo. Lo avevo fissato apertamente dopo che mi aveva aiutato. Deve pensare che io sia una specie di imbranata inquietante. Mordendomi il labbro, cercai tra i miei pensieri confusi una scusa ragionevole.
"Mio," ho esclamato di colpo.
Merda. Merda. Che diavolo ho appena detto?
Lui ha alzato un sopracciglio, e io sono arrossita ancora di più per le mie parole audaci, strappando le mani dal suo petto. Ne ha afferrata una prima che potessi allontanarmi.
"Tuo?" Ha chiesto.
Non sembrava del tutto una domanda. Anche lui doveva averlo capito, perché stava diventando sempre più chiaro con ogni secondo che passava. Cosa eravamo. Due metà di un intero, un'anima per un'anima, entrambi intrecciati da un destino al di là della comprensione di chiunque. Compagni.
Lui ha alzato l'altra mano, seppellendola tra le mie trecce lunghe fino alle spalle, tirandole dolcemente. "In ginocchio."
Ho sbattuto le palpebre. "Cosa?"
Le sue dita si sono chiuse in un pugno. Il tiro questa volta è stato abbastanza forte da farmi gridare. Abbastanza da far venire le lacrime agli occhi.
"In ginocchio," ha ripetuto, il viso impassibile ma le parole cariche di dominanza.
Quel tipo di dominanza a cui i lupi inferiori non potevano fare a meno di cedere. La sottomissione ai predatori più grandi era il modo in cui i più deboli sopravvivevano nel nostro mondo, era radicata in ogni molecola del nostro essere. In un lampo, prima ancora di rendermene conto, le mie ginocchia erano sul pavimento. Proprio davanti a tutti quegli studenti - umani e lupi mannari allo stesso modo.
L'aria è esplosa in sussurri, le risatine un'ondata di ghiaccio freddo sulla mia pelle.
Il mio corpo tremava, non solo per l'umiliazione, ma per l'impulso di esporre il mio collo a lui. Il modo consueto di mostrare che non rappresentavi una minaccia per l'altro lupo, un altro istinto di sopravvivenza quasi impossibile da resistere. Eppure è esattamente quello che ho fatto, stringendo i denti contro il mio miglior giudizio in modo da poterlo guardare negli occhi e chiedere.
"Perché?"
Lui ha sogghignato. Anche allora, non potevo fare a meno di sentire il mio cuore battere forte con quegli occhi su di me, non potevo fare a meno di trovarli belli. Un tipo di bellezza crudele.
"Compagno?" Ha sbuffato. "Non voglio un omega patetico."
Mi sono stretta il petto, le parole come aghi che mi trafiggevano il cuore. "Non mi vuoi?" La mia voce è uscita senza fiato.
"No."
Si è voltato, se n'è andato come se avesse solo buttato via la spazzatura e stesse andando avanti con la sua vita.
Mi sono accasciata in avanti, il corpo rilasciato dalla modalità di sopravvivenza ma ancora tremante. La mia mente è vagata, in un luogo oscuro e nebbioso nella mia testa dove piangevo la perdita di qualcosa che non è mai stato mio. E da qualche parte in quella foschia, ho sentito le risate. Mi hanno seguito per tutto il giorno fuori da scuola, insieme all'eco delle parole di Kane. Il suo ghigno disgustato per sempre inciso nella mia coscienza.
"Non ti voglio."
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About Author

Amina Adamou
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