CHAPTER 002: CLAIMED IN THE WOODS

“Belle! That's too much stuff, there's barely enough space in the trunk!” Sally snaps at me as I drag out my second box.

I huff and turn to her with a glare. She's as beautiful as always, her honey-blonde hair in heavy waves, her eyes smoky, her Botox lips bubble-gum pink. She's in a white furry coat, a white beanie, and a pair of skinny denim trousers. She looks so freaking good like it's normal for her, whereas I have to put in so much work. I'd curled my blonde hair, worn red lipstick and mascara. I'd also changed from my purple cashmere sweater to a heavy denim jacket and red sweater. I had on denim trousers too and black shearling boots.

“From my calculation, you have three boxes in that trunk. Mine’s just two.” I roll my eyes and keep pulling my box to the car. I stop at the sight of Austin, still tall and lanky. He's in his usual nerd glasses and tech-guy corporate outfit.

He's acting all distant because Sally's told him not to be friends with me anymore. Like I care. I'd long killed my crush for him immediately he went on one knee and asked her to be his wife.

“Austin’s car is faulty, Belle. I don't want it having any problems on the way,” she follows behind me like a cop about to check for contraband.

“Oh, come on, it's just an extra box!” I flip at her.

She scoffs, eyeing me with an attitude.

“What exactly do you need an extra for? I'm the indecisive one with a billion nice outfits.” She shrugs proudly.

I look at Austin, and he looks away; he never wants to be caught in between our fights.

“I know what you're doing.” I laugh humorlessly. Sally frowns deeper. “You want me to back out of this trip because you only asked to seem nice when, in fact, you don't want me anywhere near you!”

“Ugh! You're impossible.” She stomps her boots on the snowy ground and walks away.

I snort and proceed to put the boxes in the trunk. I see Austin coming to help me, but Sally pulls him back.

“I'll help her!” she volunteers quickly. I watch her in mock amazement as she grunts, lifting the boxes into the trunk.

“Relax. He's all yours,” I say to her, because what's with all the insecurity?

“I know.” She exhales, flips her hair, and struts away.

“Weirdo.” I shake my head at her.

We all get into the car. Austin asks if we're alright. We murmur a “yes,” and then he starts the car engine and drives off.

As I plug in my earbuds, I notice Sally glaring at me through the rearview mirror. I stick my tongue out at her; that makes her roll her eyes and look away.

I scoff and swipe open my phone. My heart sinks when there's still no text from Scottie.

But there's a post on his story. He's on a plane—probably with Ciara.

“Douchebag,” I mutter and swipe next to my smut fan page.

New smut story coming up soon! I type and post on my story.

In a few seconds, I get likes and comments. That makes me smile a little. I resume playing Sia's Big Girls Cry and lay my head against the window, watching nature as we head off to Bear Lake.

I'm fast asleep when the car bumps into something, and I wake up. My vision is blurry at first, my heart pumping. When I blink and blink, I notice smoke pouring against the windshield.

“Shit!” Austin curses.

“What's wrong?” I ask, but Sally only replies with her witchy look.

I look around and notice we're almost at Bear Lake. We're in the middle of a lonely road.

Austin tries to start the car several times, but it doesn't work. He curses again and slaps his forehead. How dramatic.

“Why won't it start?!” Little Miss Prim and Perfect whines. “Austin, do something!” she adds.

“I'm sorry, I think I forgot to change the oil,” he says as he tries to start the car again.

I groan, and my stomach rumbles too. I'm getting hungry, I'd skipped breakfast because Sally mentioned we were leaving early, but then she came two hours later.

“What now?” I ask.

“We need to get down, I'll check the hood,” he tells us.

Sally grunts and gets out of the car. I do too.

We watch Austin as he opens the hood and starts checking for faults.

I glance at Sally, and she's already watching me.

“It's all your fault, you know,” she says, arms folded across her chest.

“Me?” I recoil.

“Yes, you.” She nods, eyes wild. “Aside from your two boxes… there's you.” She looks me up and down.

My body crawls with mortification.

“And what do you mean by that?!”

“Sally, stop it,” Austin cuts in, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, you're on her side now?” She faces her husband.

“I'm not, I'm just—”

“It's okay, Austin. She might threaten to divorce you again if you defend me.”

Sally pauses, and I wait for an apology, but of course, I get none.

“We need to find a mechanic. The problem's worse than I thought,” Austin says as he brushes his dirty hands on his dark slacks. “You both stay here. I'll go find one,” he adds.

“There's a shorter route through the woods. Belle knows where to find help,” Sally tells him like I'm not standing right next to her.

“What? I don't. Plus, I could get attacked by wild animals.”

“I'm sure your size will scare them off.” She narrows her eyes, definitely not remorseful about her insult.

I feel a twist in my chest, my stomach tightens too. I can't stand her—I can't stand her constant insults to make me feel bad about myself.

So I tell her, “Fuck you,” and stomp off to find help.

As I wander through the woods, looking for an open area to find help, I begin to hear rattling in the bushes and cracks of dry logs.

I look back, and there's something furry hidden in the bushes. My heart starts to race as I wonder what it is.

It moves again, and I jump, slowly bending to pick up a stick.

“Whatever you are, you better back off. I'm having a really bad—ahhhhh!” I scream at the sight of a huge brown wolf from the snowy fallen trees.

I stagger backward and fall on a log. I groan out of a sharp pain that sears through my left calf. I try to move—run—but I'm paralyzed by the haunting red eyes of the wolf. It prowls closer, growling as it shows its fangs.

It's going to eat me. I'm going to die out here in the woods, and my sister wouldn't even care to look for me!

I shut my eyes, my heart pounding as I await my dreadful fate.

Then suddenly, I hear a howl.

My eyes fly open, and something large is fighting the wolf. I look closer, and it's… a man.

A huge man… a very huge and hairy man—like Wolverine.

He fights off the wolf until it runs off like it's scared of him.

I hold my breath as my savior—maybe I shouldn't call him that yet—turns to me with burning amber eyes.

He looks angry, his broad shoulders hunched as he walks to me. I stare at him in astonishment. He's in ripped combat knickers, his body looks like it's carved out of rocks, his right arm fully covered in tribal tattoos. This is what a beast of a man must mean. And he might do worse to me than the wolf intended.

So I scream at the top of my lungs. I think that worsens his angry state because in a flash he's next to me, his large hand covering my mouth.

My eyes are wide as I take in his face.

And damn, what a face! He's handsome. In a gruff way. His eyes are glowing amber, dark too. His sharp jaw is covered in a heavy beard—like he hasn't shaved in weeks.

And when he speaks, it's like a voice that has been locked up for years and he's speaking for the first time.

“Don't make a sound,” he growls, and I swear liquid rolls down my trembling thighs.

I can't suppress a moan because my treacherous body is responding to this raw masculinity in front of me. And what is that pine, snowy, musky scent oozing from him?

I nod anyway, because it looks like he'd break me in half if I scream again.

He watches me intensely as he takes off his calloused palm.

My lips feel hot, my whole body is hot!

“Oh my God… you just…” I swallow down my nerves as I take another good look at him. “You're… ripped and huge, and… you're…”

“Let me see your calf,” he growls as he pulls up my leg and scans it.

“Oh, that's…” I forget whatever I'm about to say when my eyes follow his scowl on my calf. I'm bleeding! There's a big splinter stuck in my punctured calf.

That's when I feel the sharp pain, and my left leg feels dead.

“You have to come with me,” he rumbles.

“What?” I blink. He doesn't. “I can't just go with you, I—”

“It's not a question. You're coming with me.” He reaches for my waist, but I shift away. He doesn't like this, because he growls deep, and it causes a jolt down there.

“A-at l-least tell me your name,” I stammer. Am I actually thinking of letting Mr. Wolverine take me away to God knows where?

He doesn't reply immediately, he just lifts me up like I weigh nothing—and trust me, I weigh a lot. He settles me on one of his shoulders and starts walking. My heart thumps with each heavy step.

“Jaxon,” he finally answers my question. “My name's Jaxon.”

My brain short-circuits as his name echoes over and over again. Jaxon!

But I…

How come he…

Was it…

There's no chance in hell Santa made my wish come true… right?