Free Web NovelChapter 25: Something Amiss I
My words caused him to choke. Then I flushed when I realized how my words could be misconstrued. I quickly corrected myself, eyes wide and shaking my head profusely.
"I mean, can I ride your werewolf? Completely clothed! I mean I’m clothed and you’re clothed, the wolf form―" I spluttered, trying to save the situation, and he held out a hand to stop me.
"The more you say, the worse it sounds," Elijah said with a pained grin. "But unfortunately, that’s a no."
"Why not?"
"I don’t want Damon to demote me to dishwashing duty," Elijah said with surprising seriousness. "Or worse, if he decides I am better off thrown into the woods to be used as tree fertilizer."
Now I was spluttering for a different reason. "Don’t be ridiculous, I’m just another woman to him. Besides, I know that I couldn’t explain it too clearly just now but clothes! I’m clothed, you’re... furred... It’s fine, no?"
Elijah shrugged. "He is a jealous man," he said. "I wouldn’t be surprised if he had me skinned and displayed for the rest of the pack to see if I dared to try anything. And I’m very attached to my skin."
"You’ve got to be joking." I snorted. "Damon and Blaise were more than happy to have me walk around the packhouse naked." I tugged at my clothes, proving a point. "Even prostitutes wore more clothes than I did before I was given this set. A lingerie set and a bedsheet dress. And he would get upset over this small thing?"
"It’s a matter of choice," Elijah pointed out. "He chose to expose you to the elements. He definitely did not choose to have me giving you a―" Elijah cut himself short, wrinkling his nose as he tried to think of a better word to say.
"Ride," I finished for him. "In the non-kinkiest way possible."
Elijah rolled his eyes. "Either way, it’s a death sentence for me. You’re a good person, Harper, and I would love to be friends. But I don’t think we are at a point in our relationship where I would die for you just yet."
"And how is that not a sentence filled with misunderstandings?" I teased.
A quirky smile shaped Elijah’s lips. He parted them, prepared to retort with something witty when he suddenly paused. The smile on his face dropped in an instant and his movements came to a halt. He sniffed once, then twice, the wrinkle between his eyebrows growing as he suddenly turned and looked in a seemingly random direction.
"Something wrong?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in questioning.
Gone was the lighthearted tone and instead, there was something oddly ominous about Elijah’s sudden change in mood. I could feel my own hair standing up, chills running up and down my spine as my heart began to thunder.
I didn’t have the same heightened senses but even I could tell when something was amiss.
"Change of plans," Elijah said. "Get on my back. We have somewhere to be."
"I could return to the packhouse if you have work to tend to," I suggested, gesturing to the main packhouse behind me. We hadn’t made it that far and it would be no more than a quick five-minute walk back.
Of course, that was if I was even going back. If Elijah truly had somewhere else he needed to be, it could be a good opportunity for me to run. Even if I couldn’t escape, it would be good to use this opportunity to scout the grounds and plan a plausible route.
The shake of Elijah’s head quickly caused my heart to fall in disappointment.
"No," he said, shooting my idea down nearly immediately. "I’ve been tasked to give you a tour. As such, I need to watch over you as well. Your safety is my responsibility."
"Alright then," I said, trying to suppress the sigh of disappointment from slipping from my lips.
Elijah merely offered me a tight-lipped nod before taking a few steps away.
"Turn around," he said, to which I quickly obeyed.
I didn’t see for my own two eyes what happened next. But the loud snapping of bones and the thunderous popping of them fixing back into place was a sound that anyone who was a werewolf or had grown up with could recognize.
Elijah’s transformation was quick, and once he was done and only silence remained, I turned.
There weren’t a lot of chances for me to see shifted wolves back in Stormclaw. The rules stated against shifting in the packhouse. Furthermore, there was never a need to when all battles and training took place in the endless fields beyond the walls of the building. As such, I had only seen werewolves in their wolf forms from a distance away.
As a wolf, Elijah was still tall, much bigger than a normal animal― given his status in the pack, he was no doubt bigger than the other ordinary pack members as well. His fur was as white as snow, laced with random streaks of bronze, a distinct nod to his human appearance. Likewise, even as a wolf, he still retained the same caramel-colored eyes.
There was no mind link between us, since the bond between Damon and I went only one way. However, I could more or less already guess what Elijah wanted me to do. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
Walking over, I picked up the clothes Elijah had been wearing prior to his transformation before climbing onto his back. He had taken them off most likely to prevent them from tearing, since he had nothing else to change into.
Once I had steadily climbed on, he took off in a gallop, leaving me clutching onto his fur for dear life. The wind nipped at my face, sending my long hair flying behind me as I struggled to keep my eyes open from his speed.
Elijah expertly navigated the pack territory, weaving between trees in the forested areas before finding his way through the seemingly endless vast fields. Eventually, a few rows of houses appeared, most likely belonging to the members of the pack who preferred to stay alone and away from the packhouses.
There was a particular house isolated in a far-off corner, away from the general neighborhood. When we reached it, Elijah’s pace slowed down before he eventually came to a stop.
I hopped off, leaving his clothes on the ground next to him before walking forward, making sure my back was turned to him so he had the privacy to shift back. Even though werewolves were comfortable in their own skin, it didn’t mean I was keen on seeing him in his birthday suit.
The closer I got to the house, the more my skin began to crawl. That was when I smelled what Elijah must’ve picked up even from such a distance. I stilled, my face blanching as the color drained away. The coppery, metallic smell was quite hard to miss now that I was so close.
Blood. Lots of it.
