Mine to Protect Chapter 12: A MEMORY

*Hazel*

His canines scrape my neck’s sensitive skin, and for a few seconds I am both in bliss and scared out of my mind. How can I have feelings so contrasting with each other at the same time?

How can something feel so right and also so wrong?

The warmth of his lips leaves my skin, and he takes a few steps back.

“Sorry, I know you are not ready yet, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s ok,” I say, a little embarrassed and a little shaken.

We resumed walking, and the Alpha trailed behind me, like some kind of bodyguard.

“I don’t bite; you know?” I called out to him, without turning around. I hear him laugh; it is one of the best sounds I have ever heard, hearty and low, you can hear it reverberate in his chest.

He catches up to me and starts walking beside me, his arm touching my shoulder.

“I know you don’t bite; you haven’t turned yet,” he says playfully. “I just wanted to give you some space to think, without feeling oppressed,” he adds in a more sober tone.

“I don’t find your presence oppressive; it’s just everything that happened today. My world just got turned upside down. I feel so confused, and a little betrayed too. Discovering that my parents have kept such a huge secret from me all this time has really thrown me off. Plus, I kind of disliked werewolves. No offense.”

“None taken,” he reassures me, gifting me a small smile. “May I ask why, though? I hope it’s not because of our first encounter, I am not really proud of that day, I lost control to my urges and ended up scaring you.”

“No, it’s not because of that, although you really did scare me. I thought I was going to die bitten to my death. Thinking about it now, I’d want to laugh at my stupidity.”

“Cute stupidity,” he offers.

“Still stupidity. Anyways, my bad history with werewolves goes way back, since as long as I can remember. Being bullied at kindergarten, middle-school, high-school, at work, seeing all my dreams and opportunities being taken away from me always by a werewolf. It kind of scarred me. Made me hate them as a species.”

“I am sorry my kind made you suffer; I wish I could have been there to protect you. I am here now, though, and I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.”

I don’t know how, but I know his words are truthful, and a new sense of safety spreads through me, giving me the courage to tell him more.

“Actually, there’s also another reason which brought me to dislike werewolves. They hurt a friend of mine, my dearest friend really, and until now I still don’t know what become of her.”

I feel sadness creeping up on me at the reminiscence of what happened. I don’t know if I want to tell him this story, it pains me just to think about it.

“Can you tell me what happened to your friend? With my resources, maybe I can help you find out some answers,” he offers gently.

I consider it a little; it all happened 5 years ago, when I was in college, I am not sure he can find anything out after such a long time. Although the chance is small, for her, I could give it a try. So, I start recounting the events that made me despise the werewolf kind.

“It happened when I was in college. I got a part-time job to cover my expenses, I had a scholarship, but I still needed money for the basics, like food, books, transport, etc. My parents were never rich, and I did not want to burden them, so I found this job, which had decent pay, and that’s where I met Cindy. We worked the same shifts, she was also attending college, and we became good friends in no time. Not only friends, more like sisters. We took care of each other. Her family was also not wealthy, so we helped each other with money and food when needed. I would crush at her place sometimes, when I was too tired to go back to the dorm, and she would come to my dorm to study and have fun together. She was the one who held my hair the first time I got drunk and got sick. And she was the one who spent one entire day hugging me on my bed after my boyfriend left me for one of the football team cheerleaders. I loved her like family.”

“What happened then?” the Alpha prompts me to go on.

I take in a breath and start recounting the events of that night. “We were working the night shift, suddenly a bunch of bulky men entered the place, glaring menacingly at everyone. They were werewolves.”

FLASHBACK

They did not sit at a table, instead they started searching the place, like they were looking for something.

Chris, our manager, tried to intercept them.

“Good evening. How can I help you? Can I get you a table and some drinks?”

“Get out of the way! We are not here for the drinks,” the nearest guy replied.

“Then you are here for the show, it is this way, let me show you,” Chris persists in his attempt.

“Get the hint, cute boy. Scram before I ruin that pretty face of yours.”

“Then, I am afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave. I have already called security,” Chris warns in a cold tone.

“I don’t think your security is going to stand a chance against me,” the guy replies menacingly, finishing with a loud growl.

He starts punching Chris in the face, over and over, until his face is just a red pulp; when Chris falls to the floor senseless, that savage kicks him repeatedly in his stomach and on his head, without mercy. Then leaves him motionless on the floor lying in a pool of his blood.

'I thought he killed him. Luckily, someone from the staff called an ambulance, and they were able to save his life. But he never recovered completely from that beating.'

The werewolves keep searching the club, and no one dares get in their way after what happened to Chris.

Cindy and I hide behind the counter in fear, hoping they won’t bother with us. At one point, I hear heavy steps behind me, I am not even fast enough to turn around, that one of them grabs Cindy by her hair, and starts dragging her toward the exit.

“Don’t fight me little whore. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? I knew a slut like you would hide in a filthy place like this, and here you are. Really befitting,” the guy dragging Cindy hurls abuses at her.

They seem to know each other. Why would Cindy be associated with scum like him? And why didn’t she say anything when they entered the club?

I don’t have enough time to ponder these questions, the guy has nearly reached the door, I need to stop him. Without thinking, I grab a bottle from the counter, hurry behind them, and crush the bottle on the werewolf’s head.

Glass and blood splatters everywhere. Without wasting time, I pull Cindy upright and rush out the door. I hear loud growls coming from the club, someone yelling, “Get them!”