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FOURTEEN
ELENA’s POV
Hunter? Storm Riders?
I frown. Why does the name sound so familiar? This man, Hunter, releases his hold on me and allows me to take in my surroundings. Every move I make is painful, it is as if my body burns with invisible fire but I strain to move anyway.
I am on a bed, a feathery comfy bed and there is a great wide window that has been opened to let in the gentle sunlight. The room is magnificently huge, bigger than my family house even, and every piece of furniture that inhabits this mahogany themed room oozes style and quality. My eyes return from the ogling of the room and I look down at my body only to realize that I am wearing a clean white cotton dress.
From the corner of my eye, I notice a movement and my head jerks back up to see a big, tall man with light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and recognition flashes across my face.
“You…” I whisper, ignoring the scratchy dryness
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