Chapter 2: Stealing His Robe

- SCARLETT

The following day, I awoke on the beach, the rays of the sun striking my bare skin.

This time, lying there, tired and battered and bruised, I was aware that I must find a way to get out. I held my mother close to my neck, my valuable jewel, as though it were my life and refuge.

I sighed, attempting to sit up, my head buzzing with a terrible headache. I glanced around, seeking to make my bearings.

Brutal attack memories came back to me. I recalled that I was running away with my life, and my family was spread everywhere, and they were all slaughtered.

As I attempted to stand, I found myself completely naked with a ragged dress on me. The attack and my shift had torn it to rags, and I was fully naked now.

I had strolled up and down the shore till I had apparently wasted hours, when I chanced upon a beautiful spring falling into the lake. I was able to make out that the water was as clear as crystal, and the trees and thick bushes that bordered the lake offered a feeling of calm that I badly needed.

There I stood, forgetting a moment about my misfortunes and just admired the wonderful beauty that I saw. I realized that I should continue on, but in that short space of time, I had to be content to be carried away by the calmness of the spring.

I leaned my back against the rock and tried to think what to do. I had to get clothes and shelter, and I had to know where I was.

I was gazing at the beautiful scenery all around me when I suddenly heard a rustling in the bushes at a distance. My body was on the brink of turning into a fight or a flight response, but I chose to seek a better place somewhere nearby where I would be able to sit and enjoy the serene feeling of the spring.

And then I could see a figure in the distance.

It was a very strikingly handsome man, whose muscular body gleamed in the sunshine as he strode over the cool spring water.

I was surprised at the sight, but I did not want to startle the man or cause any trouble.

I jumped a beat when I saw him coming towards the rock. Then he took off every piece of his clothing and placed it on the big rock. It was almost as though he had left them there on purpose before he swam into the water.

And to my disbelief and shame, he was now standing there naked.

I could not help admiring his firm, self-assured walk. He appeared to be very relaxed in his surroundings, like he was part of this natural wonderland. His eyes were a blazing blue, and his muscular body shone in the sunshine.

In some way, he fit into the serene image of the lake, like he was a part of the beauty that enveloped him.

I kept on watching him without making a single sound in awe and wonder at what I saw. It was rather as though I was baiting the prey until I got the right moment, but it was not exactly so.

I had a glimpse of the fact that this man was a strong character, one who was respectable and admired by everyone around him. I believed that he was a lycan, most likely a leader of a clan.

He was a tall, imposing, and well-built person, with a lean and muscular figure. Even in the back, with his silhouette wide on the top and narrowing to lean at the waist. His sculpted features were characterized by a strong jawline, thick lips and piercing eyes that appeared to stare through you.

His hair was thick and dark, which framed his face in soft waves falling around his broad shoulders. His skin was tan and shiny in the sun as though he had just come out of the water.

And then... I slowly turned my eyes down.

It was a mistake, and I realized that at once.

I was gawking at his groin.

He had a large, thick shaft, and his balls were tight and heavy, hanging low between his legs.

I could feel the heat of my cheeks, and I looked away. What was wrong with me?

He stood with his hands clasped over the sides and gazed into the water without seeming to know that I watched him.

But I had already seen it.

I blushed deeply because I realized that I had never before dared to look so hard at a man who was as naked as on the day of his birth.

The first thing I saw was a stack of his clothes on that large rock, only a little beyond my hiding place. I had a devilish idea. I might take the robe, perhaps borrow it until I have time to send it back.

Before I could move, I saw him dive underwater. The moment he disappeared under the surface, I turned straight to the rock. I didn't wait any longer. I grabbed the robe, discarded my shabby rags, and threw the robe across my naked body.

As soon as it fell into my hands, I ran my fingers over it. It felt insanely soft. The crimson robe was as smooth as silk and as airy as cotton, and had little embroidered seams stitched over it. The cloth was slightly gleaming. What a nice robe, and it fitted me well. It was as though a gift from heaven.

I looked up at the man swimming away out there and said to myself, I am sorry, sir. I am completely naked, and I like this robe. May I borrow it and do a good deed today? I’ll return it someday.” And with it, I hastened down into the woods.

When I was running, I could not help feeling an odd sort of comfort in that robe. It was warm and clean, unlike the rags I had been using. But guilt still crept in. I knew it was wrong to steal it.

I had not gone far before I heard a furious shout behind me. “Damn it! Who stole my robe?”

I could have sworn my heart came out of my chest.

I ran even faster into the forest when I heard him screaming, terrified and guilty at the same time. But he moved faster as he caught up and dragged me to the ground.

“Oh, no,” I moaned. How could I do this? It is the most stupid thing I have ever done.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped.

“I am…” I held my breath and tried to think what to say to him. He would kill me for sure.

“Who are you?” he demanded again. “Are you a witch? Why did you steal my robe?”

"No," I replied, trying not to look at him. "Well, yes, I stole it. I had no clothes, and, well, um, I am a werewolf. Yeah, that’s why.”

"You are a werewolf," he said and looked at me suspiciously.

“Yeah,” I nodded, having to lie. “I’m a werewolf. That’s why I’m naked. Werewolves are natural outcasts, aren’t they? The robe looks great.”

I knew the werewolf excuse was a poor one, more particularly as his eyes were boring their way through my skull, but I was forced to the double-gaff. Had he guessed that I was a survivor of the Dark Valley, he would have killed me in a moment.

"And you see how it is," I said, my voice rising higher as I made an effort to creep back. "First transformation of the lunar cycle. Very messy. Clothes are just an afterthought. It's a whole thing."

He didn't move. He remained on his haunches on top of me, holding me to the ground. He was near enough to make me feel the lake water and pine on his skin. He was not only handsome with his face up close; he was frighteningly alert.

"A werewolf," he said again, with a low, threatening rumble in his voice. "Funny. You don't smell like a stray. You smell like... trouble."

"I get that a lot," I said, snapping my fingers against the dirt. I felt like it was a drum set in my chest, but my hand had finally grasped something. A jagged, palm-sized stone. "Look, I'm just going to... leave."

"You are not going anywhere before I get some real fucking answers," he said, catching hold of my arm.

"A distraction is a better idea, eh?"

Of course, I won't toss the robe. It was the only piece of clothing that covered me; otherwise, I would have been exposed to the elements. I whipped the stone I grabbed earlier into the thick brush some twenty yards to the left, instead. The stone struck the dry leaves with a terrible, violent thud-crack.

In the silence of the woods, it was as though a predator was leaping.

His Alpha instincts held the bait a moment as his head swung to the sound. That was my window. I stamped my foot deep into his gut, not deep enough to take anything out, but deep enough to get him off his balance, and scrambled on my feet.

"Hey! Get back here!" his voice throbbed behind me, shaking in the trees.

"No way! Consider it a loan!" I screamed over my shoulder and did not even look back as I grabbed up the hem of the robe and ran.

I was familiar with the topography of these woods more than the newcomers could be. I crashed through a tangled hedge of thorns that would have torn human flesh, trusting to my wavering instincts to keep me ahead of it. The adrenaline was a hell of a drug, and my lungs were burning.

I searched a familiar shallow brook and walked in the middle of it a hundred yards, to drown my scent, and then dragged myself up into the thick foliage of a great oak.

I remained there, huddled against the tree, my breath coming in hissing, sharp puffs. I heard him a few minutes later. He was no longer running, but stalking. I could hear clanking, heavy, rhythmic twig-snaps and a growl of annoyance and frustration.

"I know you are there, little thief," he shouted, and his voice was so smooth and so frighteningly calm. "And I swear, when I find you, a stolen robe will be the very last of your trouble."

I remained as still as possible, holding my mother's pendant in my palm until the silver pierced it. I had dodged the massacre, I had escaped the rogue lycans and the King, and now I had just attacked a high-ranking Lycan in the woods.

"Good work, Scarlett," I muttered to myself, and shut my eyes. "Truly your best work yet."