Page 3 of Bodyguard Wolf's Fated Mate
"What do you want from me? I can't see you. Why won't you step out into the light and out of the darkness?" I asked on my knees on all fours somewhat disoriented having no idea where I was.
Living in a prison of my father's making was his only way to keep me safe from harm. Those around me breathed a little bit faster. They sensed the danger, but it didn't even register with me. Fear was an emotion abandoned a long time ago when I was adopted into a family of biting vipers.
A shadow formed in my peripheral vision, but I turned to find nothing waiting for me. It was definitely there but somehow it eluded me. My father told me several times this was a manifestation of my abandonment issues. My therapist was always stressing the importance of self-reflection.
It was their way to explain things away. Everything had to fit in a box.
A breeze wafted over me, and I shivered with my hands wrapped around my body. It was then I became quite aware of my lack of clothing. The feeling of vulnerability was nothing compared to the freedom and beauty of nature all around me.
Something was there waiting for me to make the first move. The voice was a direct route to the pathway of my past. It promised to fill in the blanks. The void left behind when they found me covered in leaves and blood never went away.
The blood wasn't my own but came from an animal that had the misfortune of crossing my path. The professionals stated that it was survival instinct that kept me from freezing to death when the temperatures dropped below zero. They were quite quick to declare that what I did was self-defense.
I wasn't so sure I believed that.
Nobody blamed me for feeding on the carcass of the dead deer. They thought it had already expired, but I suspected that I had somehow had my hand in its demise. There was no proof and just a very strong feeling I couldn't seem to shake, no matter how hard I tried.
This must be very confusing for you. Accept what you are. It's the only way you will live past the next few days. Listen to the voice in the back of your mind. It can be quite loud when it wants to be. Let it be your guide. Don't hide from the truth. You are destined for so much more.
"I don't understand. You're not making any sense."
A slight tremble shook me to my very core. The ground shifted until a visible fissure opened up a chasm into hell itself. Steam emanated from within. The heat was enough to take my breath away until I gasped for air on my knees.
I peered into the darkness with the added component of the heavy steam preventing me from seeing the reality. Something moved and I reached out to find nothing but air. It was getting closer, and the full moon was something to be avoided.
The pills drew me into a deep sleep, but I never really felt rested when I woke up in the morning under the bed.
This time was different. This time the voice was clear. It was trying to warn me to be on my guard at all times. What was the danger? Did it have something to do with the reason why my father hired an outside security professional?
He just started the other day, but my father informed me his duties would include looking after me in his absence. That his main focus was to keep me from getting into trouble.
That was going to be easier said than done.
I scrambled back from the crack in the earth. It seemed to be following me as if I was the intended target. The animal within had evolved over the years to include strange-looking piercing black claws. There were also large and terrifying canine teeth with a salivating tongue longer than my own.
My research into such a phenomenon concluded this was my animal spirit looking over me. Everybody had one even if they didn't know it. It was something to be discussed with my therapist but never with my father. The man was black and white. He didn't believe in supernatural nonsense.
Small droplets of blood dripped from one of my fingers or claws. It was warm and comforting until I could feel those same droplets streaming down my chin. Something was caught in my mouth.
A finger poked and prodded until it dislodged a piece of recently torn-away flesh.
I found myself licking the claw clean of any leftover residue. A very familiar copper taste was on the tip of my tongue. A very loud and intimidating howl came out of my mouth.
The clouds parted to reveal the winking moon in all its glory.
You don't see what I see. Never be afraid of where you come from. Embrace the change. Fighting it will do you no good.
I spun around until I was dizzy. That bad voice was all around me. Why did I think it was bad? It was only telling me the truth for the first time in my life. Nobody else could do that for me. They all had platitudes and psychological explanations for my sleepless nights and walking around in a fog.
"I know you're trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what it is. Why does it have to be such a secret? Why can't you just tell me without all of these riddles? My father is oblivious and doesn't want to believe something is wrong with me. He's not very happy I'm seeing a therapist. He probably thinks it's a reflection on him. I can't talk about these things outside of therapy," I replied with my head pounding with my hands placed on either side of my temples to drown out the voice getting louder by the second.
Most people got eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, but I was in the minority. Functioning on three hours was the best I could do. It was far from refreshing, but I still felt energized despite the lack of REM sleep.
You don't know where you came from, but you will. That's not up for debate. It's not my place to show you the truth when you have to learn it yourself. This voice is your own. It comes from deep within where you have feared to tread for too long. It awakens at precisely the same time every month. You know this but you refuse to see it.
The growling of an animal turned me on my heels to face the snarling beast. It was pure white with the most gorgeous fur. Its eyebrows were full. It was bigger than life and hovered over me in a way to bring to life something far beyond my imagination.
A dead deer separated us.
