Amaya
I run through the empty halls, counting the seconds in my head as my feet meet the frozen floor.
The alarm was ringed throughout the orphanage, and the cries of the orphans, guards, and nuns could be heard outside. The chaos caused by the knife fight would be over in two minutes.
Three if I was lucky. I needed to get to Cece.
I walked past a few open doors of unoccupied rooms, stopping only when I reached the front of my best friend's dorm.
The door was ajar, which was not a good sign, considering that we planned to leave the door locked. I walk in but immediately stop at the sight that awaits me.
Cece was on the ground. A pool of blood was growing around her, staining her long curly hair.
The scarlet red mixed with the naturally fiery red of the red hair also stained half of her face.
Her eyes were closed, and her freckled skin was paler than usual, which was frightening in and of itself, considering how white the girl was naturally.
Who had done this to her? Had my plan been discovered in advance?
"Cece?" I murmur, immediately moving closer and kneeling beside her. Fear threatens to paralyze my body, but I force myself to look for a pulse in her throat. I was about to faint with relief as I found it.
It was weak, but it was there.
I think that was a terrible plan. It won't work. We will all die.
I force myself to take a deep breath and reason, trying to see past the fear.
The hole behind the dresser in the bedroom led to the outside of the orphanage, to the back part, where a fence had been cut.
Nobody but Matteo knew about these two passages, and he'd die before he told.
I had two options. Stay with Cece to make sure she would be okay, lose the chance to escape, probably the only one I would have, risk being discovered and probably killed.
They would probably kill Chel too.
Or I could go away on my own. They wouldn't let Cece die because she was one of the most well-behaved orphans they had.
Chel was playing the role of a promising and decent little orphan when, in fact, she was the essential person in our escape from a plan.
They would probably question her about where I am, but she won't know that. We don't have a plan for what to do next.
Taking her with me is out of the question. I won't be able to carry her, and we'll both get shot on the spot.
I am afraid to think what they will do to her if I leave her alone, but I have no other option.
The only thing I can do is to get help outside.
I kiss Cece's forehead, whispering, "I'm sorry. I promise I'll come back for you."
Then, I get up and, leaving the door open so that someone can find and help Chel, I walk over to the dresser and push the cabinet open, exposing the small hole.
It was just big enough for one of us to crawl through, and that's what I do.
As soon as I breathe in the night air, I start running.
The first thing I register when I open my eyes is the pain.
It wasn't as painful as in the forest or after the punishments in the orphanage, but it was still excruciating.
It felt like my feet were dipped in acid, and the muscles in my body protested even when I wasn't moving.
My arms were lifted, and as I tried to sit up, I realized something else... handcuffs restricted my wrists, attached firmly to the head of the bed.
Well, that explains why my arms are so sore.
There were bandages all over my body, where the cuts were, and both my feet were bandaged. My white dress was nowhere to be seen.
I used to wear a thin black T-shirt that looked huge on my body. I believe that people who wear this shirt are tall or have a nice pair of breasts.
My shorts were a comfortable black fabric, although I could see the tip of something shiny silver on my hip, indicating that something else was decorating my buttocks.
"Good morning, sweetie." The voice that sounded through the room that I believed to be empty startled me so much that I pulled on the cuffs, causing a burst of pain to appear at my wrist and run up my entire arm.
"Jesus!" I mutter, grimacing and looking in the direction of the voice.
In the corner of the room was a dimly lit armchair where a man was sitting.
He was so quiet that it was natural that I didn't see him there, except that I was very focused on the handcuffs and the clothes that were not mine.
The man had brown hair, a little darker than mine, not a strand out of place.
His smile was polite, and his posture unfailing as he looked at me with amusement and curiosity in his dark eyes.
What caught my attention most were his clothes.
With a bow tie in the same shade as his eyes, a white blouse with all the buttons tucked into brown social pants with suspenders, and prescription glasses, I could have sworn he belonged on the cover of a business magazine.
If it weren't for the tattoos decorating his hands and neck, his ear piercings, and the emblem of a flaming skull drawn on his shirt.
"Many people have called me that, but my name is Ace. Nice to meet you." He says, his smile becoming a little more malicious.
"Where am I?" I whisper, testing the cuffs again, but as expected, they just hurt my wrists a little more.
"Nightfall Flames pack," he replies. I look down at my body, and he must have noticed the expression on my face when I stare at the clothes because he looks horrified. "Oh, don't worry, we don't take advantage of you or anything like that. We're werewolves, but we're not barbarians. Lia changed her clothes since her dress was filthy."
I wanted to ask who Lia was, but he stood up, sighing.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, dear. I would shake your hand, but you know...," he indicates the handcuffs. "I was babysitting here. I'll get the boss. Our Alpha will explain everything to you."
Ace leaves me alone before I can ask any more questions. My thoughts were spinning, and I had no idea what he was talking about.
]What did he mean when he said they didn't 'take advantage' of me? And what the hell was the Nightfall Flames? A pack?
I barely stepped foot outside the orphanage, and already some crazy people were showing up...
One thing I knew. Ace was with the two men I saw in the forest. They had the same symbol on their shirt, whatever that meant.
Were the Sisters right? Amaya asks, feeling panic fill her.
Matteo said everything the Sisters told me about the outside world was a lie, but the first thing I saw when I ran away was a murder.
Maybe I shouldn't have run away?
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside. I swallow and watch the knob turn slowly before the door opens, revealing another man.
This one was different from the others, I noticed immediately.
Kron, if I remember his name correctly, was scary and had a posture that made it clear that he was completely crazy and had no limits.
The other blond was more relaxed.
He looked dangerous, of course, but more in control.
Ace was polite, although something about him made it clear that he would not hesitate to slit my throat if he had to.
But this one in front of me is the leader. Whatever this place is, this man runs everything. The expression on his face and his posture made this clear.
His hair was disorganized in a way that made it clear that he could not be tamed by anyone.
This was a man who did only what he wanted to do.
His honey-colored eyes were so yellow they were almost golden, alive in a way that contrasted with his slightly darker skin, as if he had spent hours in the sun but had his natural tan.
"Why am I here?" I ask, my voice coming out lower than I intended. This man scares me. He does.
"After you witnessed my men doing a job," he begins. I realize that his voice is naturally raspier. But the still powerful tone, as if he was used to giving orders and never being questioned. He probably really was.
"They brought you to me. Now you are in my gang."
The memory of the two men killing the other in the forest comes back into my head, and I look at the man in front of me, swallowing dryly.
"Your men? And what exactly do you mean by your 'gang'?" I ask, forcing my voice to come out stronger.
I'm relieved when it works, but he tilts his head slightly to the side, looking at me as if I'm a puzzle he wants to solve immediately, but can't.
"Yeah, my men. You're in a werewolf pack, pretty one." When my confused expression doesn't change, he arches his eyebrows. "Holy shit... Where did you come from?"
"From an orphanage," I reply. When I offer nothing more, he looks a little frustrated. I merely proceed, "Who are you?"
"You can call me Darien," he murmurs.
He moves closer, and I shrug as he sits down on the bed I was in, keeping his distance.
He seems mildly amused by this. "We need to discuss the conditions of your stay here, cutie. Why don't you start by telling me your name?"
"Amaya Covey," I mumble.
"Well, Amaya, what you witnessed in the forest is, unfortunately, putting me up against the wall here. I can't let you go and then have some cops at my door, you know?" He comments, and I bite my lip as I understand what he is getting at.
"I'm your prisoner," I mutter.
Darien sighs.
"Think of it more as a 'guest,'" he says, his silver eyes meeting mine. "I don't want to kill you, Amaya. I don't. But I'm not a very good guy, and if I have to, I will."
He looks away before continuing, looking me straight in the eye, "I want to make a deal with you. Do not try to escape. I will make your stay here pleasant. I will even let you out if one of my men accompanies you."
I could see the message behind his words. I had no choice.
I could be a good girl and comply, or I would die. And I didn't doubt that he was not a good man.
I had no good enough reason to be. He would kill me without hesitation.
And I couldn't die. Not when Cece has depended on me to get out of that hell.
But this is so unlucky it is comical. I just escaped from one prison to end up in another.
The question was which of the two places had scarier monsters.
I bite my lip and agree with my head. "I'm not running away." Still, I add mentally.
I didn't intend to go against his orders yet, but only until I figured out how to escape without getting killed and get Cece out of the orphanage.
Darien smiled slightly, and his smile sent a shiver through my body.
It was a scary smile, which promised me horrible things if I didn't keep my word.
He takes a key from his pocket and approaches me. He unlocks the cuffs, but before I can remove my wrists, he grabs them and brings me face-to-face with them.
"Don't try to pull the leg on me, pretty one. Many have tried, and I can tell you that none of them have had a decent burial." He whispers. His closeness makes my eyes widen, and my breathing fails, but before I can analyze his words or think of saying anything, he releases me and walks away.
Darien stands, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring at me as if he had never threatened me.
"Lia cleaned you up when you arrived, but maybe you'd prefer a bath. I'll give you time to get ready when you are finished. Meet me downstairs. We have a lot to talk about."
I watch as Darien walks away and heads for the door.
Before he leaves, he stares at me again, his eyes fixed on mine and a slight smile on his lips.
"Welcome to the Nightfall Flames pack, little one."
Darien"Diagnosis?" I inquire as soon as I enter my office and find Cowboy waiting for me, as I asked.Cowboy was one of the few wolves left from my father's time in the pack, as most of them followed the Old Man into hell.He was the pack doctor since he went to medical school before his life went down the drain, and he became a Nightfall.Not that I knew much about it. The situation of the older werewolves, like Cowboy or Rocket, was known only to the Alpha of the time, my father, who brought them in the first place.All I know is that his entire family was wiped out and that Cowboy became a low-level mercenary before Rocket brought him into the group a few years before my father's death."Wherever she came from, it's a poor place. Her body shows signs of malnutrition, and she's got some broken bones that haven't healed properly.Her body is covered in scars, from knife cuts to whip marks." The wolf explains. I arch my eyebrows."Whip marks?" I'm not exactly a novice when it comes t
AmayaDo you know the saying: the apple never falls far from the tree? I have heard it a few times in books and the few movies I watched as a child.I have always believed it faithfully because it makes sense.The people who raise you are the ones who prepare you for the world and who make you the person you are.For many, these people are their parents. The children grow up to follow their parents' careers and become firefighters or cops, just like their fathers.I was never prepared for the world. I was groomed for obedience or death. I was not taught to count change or to order food alone in a restaurant.I was taught to keep my head down, not to wear provocative clothes, and to obey. That is all I ever knew.I grew up with the only idea that I would die when I reached my eighteenth birthday, as happens to all orphans.Going against the beliefs imposed on a child from the moment he can remember is one of the most complicated things to do. Never let anyone convince you otherwise.Th
Nine years earlier, a lost place in Missouri, the United States..."Please, no," I whimpered once again. My pleas are useless and pathetic, I know. It won't work, I know.It never worked before, and I doubt it will start now, but fear prevents me from being silent.Thick tears trail down my face until they reach the hard metal against which my chest is pressed.Lying here, I feel the moisture beginning to soak through my blouse, an eloquent mixture of tears and saliva.With my back to my torturer, I am just waiting for the pain I know will come."Do you know the reason for this, Amaya?" A sob escapes from my lips when I hear Sister Ruth's voice, but I nod.I can no longer feel the side of my face from being pressed hard against the cold, stiff metal of the table.I see my reflection in the small puddle of water, mocking me by showing my weakness."I know," I reply, and I immediately regret stammering. It isn't good, and the sisters don't like it.My ten-year-old body is trembling with
Current Times, a lost place in Missouri, The United States.AmayaI move as fast as my legs can handle, ignoring the protests of my muscles as I see the hole in the fence surrounding the orphanage a few feet away from me.The sound of barking dogs, running security guards, and the chaos I leave behind when I run away rings loud in my ears, a sound that accompanies my heartbeat.The wounds on the soles of my feet bring tears to my eyes every time I step on a pebble in the dirt. But I ignore them, running even faster.To stop now is to remain in hell for the rest of my life, and I would rather die.The pleasant wind characteristic of the city whips against my face, and the cloudless blue sky above me is a sight worth beholding.The sun is intense at this time of day, with the rays beating lightly against my face, warming my skin, and the feeling of being touched by the light running through my aching body.A stark contrast to the damp, freezing place I had just come from.If I were an o
Rockville, Missouri, The United States.DarienI close my eyes and throw my head back. My eyes closed in ecstasy the minute I spurt into the mouth of the girl kneeling in front of me.My hand tightened a little more the dark strands of his hair.The movement of her mouth swallowing everything around my member draws a soft moan from my throat.I lightly stroke her head in appreciation before releasing her.The brunette gets up from the floor, facing me with a mischievous little smile as she runs the back of her right hand over her mouth, wiping away what wasn't even there.She runs her hands through my hair and sits on my lap so I can feel that she is not wearing panties under her dress.However, before I can do anything about it, the door to my office opens. I look toward the entrance, ready to shout at whoever it is.I stop myself when my eyes meet a woman with long blonde hair, amused brown eyes, and doll-like features.Her hands are on her waist, and she arches an eyebrow as she st