Chapter 82: Counting The Hours
(MAYA)
I’ve always liked the sound of rain. I find it comforting. When I was young, my mother would tell
that the rain washed away all the evils in the world. It was a new beginning for everyone.
Even nowadays, when I hear raindrops hitting my bedroom window as I lie there with my eyes closed, the rhythm is soothing. In monts like those, I like to pull my blanket over my head and drift off to the sounds of nature.
It’s raining right now. I can hear the sounds against the glass. Only it’s harsher.
And it’s cold. So cold.
I shiver, my hands seeking my blanket. But it’s not there. Did I kick it off the bed? Tired, I try to roll over to the side of the mattress, but my body cos into contact with sothing both hard and soft.
I sigh in annoyance. I reach out with my hand, and when I grasp the obstacle, I realize I’m holding sobody’s knee. My eyes open. For a mont, I feel dazed and disoriented. Where am I?
The ceiling is made of wood. Wooden logs.
My mouth is dry, parched almost. I try to turn my head and let out a pained groan. My head! What is with this splitting headache?
I make an attempt to sit up but fall right back down. Before my head can co into contact with the wooden floor, a firm hand stops my descent.
"Careful."
That’s a man’s voice. I tilt my head back to look at its owner. He has long silver hair, amber eyes, and incredibly handso features.
I know that face. The wolf shifter from the cell. I swallow. "So, that all really happened, then."
When I sit up this ti, I move more gingerly, careful not to aggravate whatever injuries I may have. The shifter watches
carefully, not letting
go till I’m fully upright.
"Do we have any water?" I rasp, clutching my throat.
He gets to his feet and returns a mont later with a glass. I drain it and feel stark relief. I take a mont to collect myself before venturing. "How long—"
"Three days," he says quietly. "We should be out of danger here."
My hand reaches out to grasp his sleeve, my eyes widening. "Are you telling
you ran for three days straight, without any rest?"
He studies . "No, I ran for two nights and two days, and we’ve been here since then. We were nearly caught twice. I had to keep going."
I try to say sothing, but I don’t know what I can say. He’s watching , so I decide to do the sa to him. He was naked the last ti I saw him in his human form, but he seems to have found so clothes. He’s wearing a brown tunic and loose-fitting pants. And he has showered.
"You don’t stink anymore," I say without thinking.
His expression stiffens. "I usually prefer to maintain my hygiene, if I’m allowed."
I feel a spasm of guilt. "I’m sorry. I didn’t an to imply that. I have a tendency to speak before thinking.
How long were you held prisoner at that place?"
He doesn’t say anything for a mont, and then he shakes his head. "I don’t rember. My mory is not all there." "I see." My eyes dart around our new lodgings. "Where are we now?"
"A human hunting cabin. It is well stocked. We have enough food to last us a few days." "A few days? Are we going to stay here that long? Shouldn’t we keep moving?"
He gives
a long look. "You are in no condition to be constantly on the run. You have sustained a head injury. And we are in the midst of a thunderstorm. It has been raining for two days."
I look down and realize that he must have changed my clothes. My lips part. "You undressed ?" For so reason, the thought is embarrassing.
"Your clothes were wet. You would have gotten sick if I hadn’t. Would you have preferred to wear your wet clothing?" "I guess not," I mutter.
The silence between us is awkward. I don’t know what to say to the man who was my companion for six months in that cell, but in his wolf form.
I’ve never been shy, it’s simply not my nature, but whenever our eyes et, I feel flustered, a ball of tension forming in the pit of my stomach. It’s easier to talk to him without those amber eyes peering into my very soul.
"Who are you, anyway? Why was Cassian so desperate to get you to shift back? I saw the way you fought. Even in your weakened state, you were the strongest wolf out there."
Unlike , who speaks impulsively, this man takes his sweet ti in answering, as if asuring each word. "My na is Griffin."
When he doesn’t offer any further information, I stare at him. "You realize we spent six months, over six months, in a prison cell together. You could tell
a little bit more about yourself."
He hesitates. "I would if I could. I don’t rember much. I’m still recovering my mories." I bite my lip. "Oh, I’m sorry."
He shakes his head. "I rember my captivity. Chunks of it. But everything beca clearer when you ca. I rember being hungry, and you gave
your food and water. I know it was difficult for you."
I gave him a wan smile. "You’re one of the kidnap victims, aren’t you?"
He just stares at , sothing he seems to do a lot.
I let out a sigh. "Never mind. I want to get out of this place and contact my friends. I want to see my mother."
I’ve tried very hard not to think about my mother and how alone she must be, how confused. I knew I would break if I thought about her these past months. I had to trust that Corrine’s friends were taking care of her. I had to trust that Corrine was alive and well.
I put my head in my hands, suddenly realizing that I’m free. The relief is overwhelming. I feel the wetness in my eyes, and I wipe them with my fingertips.
"Are you"—the man hesitates—"alright?"
I chuckle. "Yes. I’m happy. All this ti, I thought you might end up killing . I was terrified, but I had to pretend I wasn’t. When I was reworking that formula, I was terrified that I would screw it up. I’m glad I didn’t. Then I thought you would leave
behind—"
All the fears and concerns that have been building up inside of
co flowing out. I always had to put on a tough exterior when I was young to protect my mother. I’m used to it, but sotis the mask cracks.
"I couldn’t have left you behind." Griffin gets up and walks over to what looks like a small kitchen in the corner of the cabin. "I told you, once you ca, I was able to feel a sense of clarity."
I hear an odd undertone in his voice, and I consider questioning it. However, there are more urgent things to deal with. "Do you know exactly where we are? Are you certain that the Silver Ring Organization won’t be able to find us?" With the sudden sound of running water, I realize he is putting a kettle on the stove.
"They won’t. This place is—"
There’s that hesitation again, as if he doesn’t know how much information to share with . As if I’m not to be trusted. I feel a pang of annoyance. Is he lying about his mories, as well? Does he consider
a threat?
I open my mouth to hurl accusations, but a sliver of common sense forces
to snap it shut. We may be allies at the mont, but he could be just as untrustworthy as he deems
to be. We’ll have to stick it out till we can safely part ways.
"This is secret land, protected by a long bloodline of witches. Our captors will not be able to track us here." "Witches?" I jolt at his words. "Witches exist?"
I catch him glancing over his shoulder at , a dubious expression on those fiercely attractive features. "Of course they do.
The human realm is a haven for those who practice the arts." I gave him an uneasy smile. "Of course it is. My bad."
I watch him reach into one of the cupboards and bring out a few packets of what appear to be instant noodles. My brow furrows. This can’t be a hunter’s cabin. I’ve never heard of hunters keeping instant noodles in stock. Then again, I’ve never really t a hunter. Maybe instant noodles are all they eat, and hunting is just an excuse to get away from their wives.
While Griffin cooks, I study my clothes. I’m wearing a loose, white shirt that completely dwarfs
and a pair of pajama pants with an elastic so loose that I’ll have to tie sothing else around my waist to keep them from falling. It’s the middle of October, or at least it should be by my calculations. No wonder it’s cold. At least there’s a fire going in the fireplace, so there’s so level of warmth inside the cabin.
I pull my knees to my chest, watching him, the crackling of the fire providing a soothing background noise. "How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?"
"Not long. Perhaps another few days. Once the witches decide to let up on the rain."
I gape at his muscled back. "Excuse ? Are you saying this is not normal weather? This is magic rain?"
The kettle begins to whistle, and Griffin pours the water into two bowls before bringing them over. Once he is seated beside , he hands
one of the bowls. I don’t mind instant noodles. It’s the most convenient al to make, so I have it often. It’s actually quite comforting to have a bowl of them right now.
"You didn’t answer my question."
His eyes flick toward , the intensity in them making
lower my gaze. "Witches own certain land. My kind cannot enter without permission. And if we do, there are usually obstacles. I was able to get us here safely, but the rain outside is acidic. It’s going to keep pouring till the witch is certain that I am dead."
I nearly drop the bowl of noodles into my lap. "Acidic? So, this is not a hunter’s cabin, after all."
"It is," he says simply. "Witches like to hunt their own food. They co to live on their lands for periods of ti to reconnect with nature. They draw power from nature."
I look out the window warily. "What’s to stop it from raining again once you step outside?"
He sips the broth straight from the bowl before setting it down. "I’m already on her turf. It is the barrier placed around her territory that triggers the rainfall. Once the rain stops, we can move about freely and exit this place."
"For soone who doesn’t rember much, you certainly seem to know a lot." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
His stretches of deliberate silence are annoying. "You should eat. We will be here for a while."
"How did you get past the acidic rainfall?" I keep telling myself to stop, but I have to ask. I deserve to know sothing about him after taking care of him for so long. Common sense be damned.
"I shielded you with my body. I did not escape the acidic rain, but as a shifter, I can heal easily. I still have patches of burnt skin."
He pushes up his shirt and shows
his back. My mouth turns dry. His skin has lted. I’m absolutely horrified. "Are you telling
this happened to your whole body?"
He nods, and then I rember what he just said. "You shielded , and that’s why—"
He eats the noodles calmly. "You are human. If the acid had touched your skin, you would never have healed. I have a high pain tolerance. It took
less than two days to heal most of the way. In another day, there will be no evidence left on my body."
My fingers reach out gingerly to touch the scalded skin. His hand imdiately grips my wrist, his voice low. "I do not like being touched."
The dangerous tilt to his voice has
freezing in place. "Sorry. I didn’t an to—" He slowly releases . "I apologize. I did not intend to scare you."
I pick up my bowl and quickly begin eating. Acidic rain.
Witches.
Secret evil organizations.
I would never have agreed to help Corrine find the kidnapped wolf shifters from the human world if I had known what I was getting myself into. I’m beginning to miss my boring job with its simple office politics. At the most, people would only try to get
fired there, not kill .
My head is throbbing, and I wish I had so dicine. Most likely, I need to get checked out at a hospital.
I get up to wash my bowl, but as soon as I stand, I wobble, a wave of dizziness taking hold of . Before I can fall, Griffin catches , gently lowering
to the floor once more. "I told you, you are human. You need ti to recover."
He takes my empty bowl and brings
another glass of water. I drink it and start to feel exhaustion creeping up on
again.
"Why are you being so nice to ?"
"You looked after . Shouldn’t I return the favor?" His voice is low, and he’s not looking at .
As sleep begins to wrap
in its warm embrace, my stomach finally full after a long ti, I smile slightly, sure of one thing.
"You’re lying."
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