CHAPTER 4

Brooklyn.

Silence. Dead and quiet.

That's the first thing I notice when I wake up. Second thing I notice is the male sitting on the chair beside the bed. His hair is strewn all over and his big arm covers his face. His face is planted on the bed and his hand on top of mine.

Usually, I'd have removed my hand but for some reason… I enjoy the warmth of it.

And the third thing being the grand room. Everything here looks excessive and expensive. A king size bed with canopy that has golden accents on top of the cover, and silky comfy sheets. 

On the walls are paintings that should be in an art gallery, not here. I've always been a fan of painting.

Feels like I woke up in a freaking royal chamber. 

A frown mars my face. How did I get here? What happened? When I try to think back, I get this sharp pain in my head so I stop. The male here should know anyway. When he wakes up, I'll ask.

But for now, I need to pee badly.

Sitting up, I try to remove my hand from his and leave without making noise, but he has other plans as each time I tug, his grip tightens. 

Huffing, I stay still. Maybe he'll wake up minutes later. My focus returns to the paintings on the blue theme walls. There are paintings of the sunset and sunrise, the owner of this room must like them. However, the one that draws me in is that of a male.

Royal blue royal coat with the emblem of a wolf cloaks his body and a golden crown with blue diamonds rests on his head. I gasp when my gaze connects with a pair of amber eyes that look like it's staring into my soul. It makes me uncomfortable in a comfortable way…if that makes sense.

I swear I've seen those sets before, but where?

“You like paintings?” 

“Yes, I do. By the way—” I stop mid-sentence and my head snaps to the sleeping man to see him wide awake with a soft smile on his face. I gasp again, shocked to see the same amber eyes. 

His smile widens. “How do you feel?”

Lost.

His eyes are so deep, so clear, so beautiful. There are swirls of golden brown in them, as if someone else is watching through a lens. I wonder how brightly they shine under the sun. “Beautiful,” I say breathlessly.

A deep blush covers my face when I realize what I've said. I have never lost myself, what's he doing to me? 

He laughs softly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I'm glad you love my eyes, baby.”

My blush deepens at the pet name and I look away. But his laugh…they sound so free that I want to hear them again. I want to make him laugh again.

 A sudden pressure in my bladder makes me sit further up and towards the edge of the bed. He senses it and his smile fades. 

“Pee,” I answer his silent question and he points me to the bathroom.

I rush there to do my business. As I pee, I admire the interior decoration of the bathroom. Everything here screams elegance. How rich is he? 

After flushing, I head to the sink to wash my hands.

My eyes widen in surprise when I see my reflection. I look like I've been hit by a train. Blood is on my hair and it looks more messy than usual. I groan. I've always had a hair problem if I fail to treat it everyday.

I can't believe he saw me like this.

Shuddering, I discard my clothes and hop into the shower, making sure to wash the discomfort away from my body. As I close my eyes, images of me laying in the pool of my own blood flashes through my eyes. 

I jump, turning the shower off and rushing out of the bathroom in nothing but robe.

What the hell was that?

The smell of food wafts in the air and I rush over to the breakfast stand in front of the bed. My stomach rumbles loudly and I wince at the loud noise. When was the last time I ate?

Strangely enough, I don't remember. 

And the male isn't in here to help me with it either. Shrugging, I sit on the soft bed and pull the cart to me. Grabbing a plate, I top it with everything, making sure to add lots of chocolate syrup to it.

“You should wear this after eating,” I hear that voice say as he drops clothes on the bed beside me.

I swallow harshly on the pancakes. With my sensitive hearing, I'm surprised I didn't hear him come in. He sits beside me on the bed, watching me eat. I shift on the bed at the sudden intense attention.

He notices it and looks away for a second, giving me the chance to stuff my face. From the tilt of his lips, I know he catches the action. But I don't find it in me to care.

“Mate,” I say and eye him as he stiffens slightly, the short smile coming off once again. 

He knows something he's not telling me. “I heard you say the word to me twice, what does it mean?”

An emotion appears in his eyes, but it's gone before I can pinpoint it. He slowly relaxes as his intense gaze returns to me. 

“You don't know what it means?” It's more of a statement than a question, like he realizes something.

The secrecy is disturbing. 

“If I do, I wouldn't ask now, would I?” I retort, gulping down the last drop of apple juice before sighing loudly in pleasure and rubbing my stomach. “Finally. Felt like my soul was starving.”

He chuckles, “what's your name?”

“Brooklyn.” I tilt my head to the side, “what's yours?”

“Landon.” He smiles softly.

“Landon,” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue and I love the way he rolls off. Landon takes in a sharp breath, his eyes hooded before he blinks it away. 

I frown at that. This dude is weird. “So, Landon. Want to tell me why I'm here and what happened?”

He sighs, “what do you remember?”

Like a glitch, snippets of me running on the road in the middle of the night seep into my memory and I try to remember why I was running. 

But each time I think far, I feel a sharp pain in my head. I wince, swallowing. I have a bad feeling about this. “Not much.”

“Well,” he hesitates, wondering if he should go on or not. “I think someone was chasing after you when you rammed into my car in the middle of the night. Billie and I brought you here for immediate treatment and you've been in and out of it for a while.”

He plays with his words, thinking before he speaks. And that makes me think that it's worse than how he let it. 

Nodding along, I think back to that night but all I can remember is just running in the dark. I sigh and shift on the bed. Why can't I remember anything? 

“You shouldn't try to force yourself to remember. Fiona said you hit your head pretty badly. I'm sure you'll remember as time goes on.” 

I'm guessing Fiona is a doctor. 

I breathe out, he's right. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Two months.”

“Two months? Wow, that's pretty wild. I mean— wait, two months?!” I shriek, jerking up from the bed and start pacing. 

“Two fucking months. Oh, goodness…I've missed a lot. My parents—” I trail off.

Landon sits up, watching me. “Your parents..?”

Bride. Brooklyn. Real parents. Wolf.

The words play fetch in my mind like a dog. Wolf? I can swear I've heard it before. But where..?

Wolf.

Wolf

Wol—

“Wait, I'm a freaking animal?!”