Allison Rae
The woman before me is petite, yet her presence radiates an unexpected strength that defies her size. Even in the face of my wolf form, with its intimidating stature and blood-soaked fur, she stands her ground. Her courage overwhelms me, a fierce spirit that glimmers through the veil of fear. I find myself staring, struggling to comprehend how she manages such resilience in the midst of chaos; her unwavering resolve surpasses my expectations.
As I drive her to my home, reality crashes down upon me like a tidal wave—I am a mess, drenched in blood, and I’m painfully aware that I’ll soon have to explain why. What do I even say? My mind races as I carefully navigate the winding roads, her silence beside me filled with unasked questions and unspoken fears. When we arrive, I gently scoop her from the car, cradling her fragile form as I carry her inside and settle her gently on the couch. I prop her head on a plush pillow, desperate to offer whatever comfort I can after such a harrowing ordeal.
As I stand over her, engulfed in a trance-like state, I take a moment to absorb her features. Her long, glossy black hair cascades over her shoulders, contrasting sharply with the paleness of her skin. Despite the turmoil she’s faced, her face bears the marks of both vulnerability and strength. She may not fit the stereotype of a model, but there’s an undeniable warmth in her curves—a testament to a life lived fully. A thought strikes me: she is a goddess woven from flesh and bone, and the sheer humanity she exudes somehow captivates me even further.
Gradually, her eyes flicker open, confusion shifting to panic as she realizes she’s in unfamiliar surroundings. A single tear escapes, and my heart twists painfully at the sight. I can almost feel her turmoil; waking up after such chaos in a strange environment is nightmarish. I step closer, offering my presence like a tether to anchor her back to reality. Slowly, I observe her tension ease, though a deeper sense of urgency begins to fill the air. When she pushes herself up from the couch, I brace for her reaction, anticipation tightening my chest.
“I’m so sorry for passing out,” she murmurs, concern etched on her delicate features as her gaze scans my torn and battered form. “Are you okay?”
In that moment, clarity washes over me. She last saw me in a state of chaos, bleeding and battered. Though I’m healing now, the concern etched on her face humbles me. Here she is—this stunning woman—worried about my well-being when she has just witnessed a nightmare. What do I do with this incredible person? Before I can ponder further, urgency overtakes her posture as she stands again, determination coursing through her veins.
“Can I go home?” she asks, the plea laced with a mixture of fear and longing.
I wish I could offer her a reassuring “yes,” but I know better. Danger looms over us like a tempest, the vampire we encountered earlier is hunting her, unwilling to let her survive after what she’s seen. “We can’t leave tonight,” I reply gently, trying to soften the blow. “We’re both too exhausted, and neither of us has eaten.”
Her stomach growls in direct response, and we share a fleeting chuckle, a thread of connection weaving between us, momentarily smoothing over the tension that clings to the air. Her laughter—soft and melodic—creates a brief respite, a balm against the heaviness choking the room. Suddenly, I hear the heavy footsteps of my Beta, Sebastian, charging down the stairs, alerted to the presence of a human in our midst. I mind-link him quickly, adrenaline fueling my urgency. “It’s fine. Calm down,” I communicate, and the footsteps hesitate—then retreat. I know he’ll inform the rest of our pack to give us space for the night. My only priority is her safety.
After a moment of silence, I shift the conversation to something light. “What would you like to eat?” I inquire, hoping to distract her from the chaos around us. When she mentions steak and potatoes, a grin spreads across my face—it’s one of my favorite meals. As I begin to cook, I can’t help but sneak glances at her again, captivated by her resilience. Even in the wake of turbulence, she manages to hold onto a spark of cheerfulness that brightens the room.
Dinner ready, we sit at the bar, and as she takes her first tentative bite of steak, I notice her gaze suddenly shift. Her expression darkens, shadowed by fresh tears, and my heart drops. Panic surges through me—did I say something wrong? Before I can ask, I see her stare out at the yard, and an icy chill races down my spine as recognition dawns on me.
My sister strides through the yard, fangs bared and growling with a low intensity that vibrates through the air. She’s aware of the human in our midst and shows no signs of backing down. Instinct takes over; I mind-link Sebastian again, urgency lacing my voice. “Get Allison out of the way if this escalates,” I implore, knowing the potential for violence lies just beneath the surface.
A storm brews in the kitchen as my sister strides through the balcony doors, fury and protectiveness radiating from her. She approaches Allison with fierce determination, the growl fading but her teeth still exposed, eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions I can’t decipher.
To my astonishment, Allison seems unfazed, tilting her head as she observes my sister as if she were not a creature of nightmares. “This wolf looks an awful lot like the one being chased at work today,” she muses, voice steady, piercing the tension with an unsettling calmness.
As soon as those words spill from her lips, my sister’s mental block crumbles, and the air is charged with an electric energy that thickens around us. The atmosphere shifts dramatically—yelling erupts, a cacophony of emotions echoing through the room as my sister confronts the unexpected presence of a human, and I know I need to prepare for chaos.
The tension snaps like a taut wire, and I brace myself—this is about to get very ugly, very fast. As the cacophony crescendos and emotions clash, I wonder if we will emerge from this night unscathed, or if the storm will consume us all.
