His Desire

~Kiva

Someone screams, glass shatters and a thud loud enough to be attributed to the house fracturing rouses me.

My body lurches upward, throat tightening as I look through the darkness.

Sheets wind around my legs as I scramble across the mattress, toppling over the edge and to the floor.

Another scream, except this time it's cut short, coming from downstairs. My blood turns ice cold, chills rattling through me.

With my feet finally under me, I wander toward my door, resting my ear against it.

“Andri…what’s going on out there?” I call out.

My personal guard doesn't answer. The commotion from downstairs seems to be nearing, the sound travelling up to the second story. Whoever has broken in, is getting close.

“Andri? Can I come out?” I'm begging.

My fingers brush against the door handle, tempting me. Father would demand I stay in my room, wait for help, but I fear someone is coming to kill me, and if Andri is not posted at my door, there will be nothing between them and I.

Throwing the door open, I peer out. Through the darkness, I can see the shadow of a body slumped against the door.

Stepping out, I wince, the carpet wet beneath my bare feet.

My stomach twists. Blood.

Stooping down, I run my hands along the body, feeling up to their face. There's no doubting this is Andri, his blood pooling out across the floor.

“Oh…oh no, please tell me you aren’t dead," I plead, shaking his shoulders. I can feel his head roll limply around, nausea rearing up inside me to the point I have to back away, nearly slipping in the blood.

The nearing footsteps have me retreating back through the threshold of my bedroom. There is no where for me to run.

As soon as I stand, someone emerges from the shadows, grabbing me.

My scream is immediately muffled as a gloved hand is shoved over my mouth, their other arm winding around my stomach, yanking me back into the room.

Clawing at their clothing, I continue to scream, kicking and thrashing about frantically as they drag me into the room, throwing me down onto the bed.

I'm going to die. They are going to murder me.

Their strength is overwhelming, as they pin me against the sheets, holding me still. Desperately, I try to rip their hand off my mouth, which practically covers over half my face, hushing my pleas for help.

Relying on one of my last surges of adrenaline, I push at their arm, and for a moment, their hand slips away, and I can yell into the night air.

“Get off me!”

I expect them to hit me, to demand I obey them, but nothing comes. They just continue to hold me down, like they are waiting for something, or someone.

Someone to come kill me...

Ripping at their gloves, their sleeves, I try to get a hold of anything to pull their hands off me, maybe give me a chance to pull away, but it's not use.

Until part of my bare skin brushes against theirs, and a shockwave rolls through me.

They are my mate.

They let go of me immediately, stumbling back a few steps.

I sit up. I'm paralysed, unable to move as I stare at the looming figure. A man, with a disturbingly impressive stature.

My mate just tried to kill me.

“No…no this can’t be," I whisper, horrified.

I can tell they are looking at me from beneath their hood, choosing their next move. To kill me, or not to kill me?

They chose the latter, vanishing into the darkness.

All I can do is stare into the shadows, helpless and alone. I just found my mate. And he's a murderer, and probably a whole other assortment of terrible things.

What the fuck?

Shaking my head, I get to my feet, the sounds of disruption from downstairs slowly diminishing.

They must be retreating, but regardless, I quickly make my way outside and down the hallway toward the safe room.

Only one thought follows me.

I found my mate. And he wants me dead.