“Marco,” she whispered as his lips traveled down to her neck, “promise me you’ll come back.”
He cupped her cheeks, and he must have caught the tears pooling in her eyes, for his voice came gentle and assuring, “I won’t let those bastards snatch me away from you. I’ll run back home, Amelia. I’ll come home to you.”
Amelia felt her heart explode, her chest close, and limbs numbing with the rush of feeling. She opened her mouth, inhaling a few jagged breaths, and felt Marco nuzzling her hair. His fingers traced the shape of her lips lightly, meandering up and down, and finally pulling away.
He strode to the far end of the room. And Amelia longed for the weight of his arms around her. Their absence was a hollow ache. She lumbered slowly behind him, her steps slow and unsteady. When they were at the threshold, he held her hand, fingers intertwining, and kissing her briefly on the lips. Gently, he slipped his hand away, his face slowly turning, and body striding away. Amelia’s fingers hovered in the air. His gray eyes, the last sight that met her vision, before she lost him to the world outside.
* * *
Amelia was slumped on the floor, legs drawn up, and arms curled around them. She was in her nightwear now but felt no desire to sleep. It had been hours since Marco had felt. Hours since she’d eaten or drunk anything. The thin carpet had become her permanent residence, the spot where she spent her time simply staring vacantly at the wall across. Everything seemed so pointless now. While Marco fought his way out there, she was locked in her apartment like some sniveling, doing nothing. Amelia wanted to be at his side.
Outside, the city was sleeping. Faint yellow light leaked through the windows at the wings of the room, filling it with a peaceful quietude. Moonlight splayed across Marco's face as she sat, mind buzzing with tiredness. She shut her eyes, trying to get away from the confinements of her room, from the grimness that soaked the very air to the tiny dregs of sleep. Her mind hanged on the very edge of it, lost far away from reality when a crash pinched her ears.
Amelia’s eyes cracked open. Head still spinning with drowsiness, she glanced ahead. Tiny shards of glass sparkled all around the floor. Her vision began to blur, and Amelia crawled away from the open window. A dark silhouette danced in front of her eyes, and she rubbed sleep away from her eyes. She kicked hard at the man standing only a few inches from her, and jeering laughter broke out at her side.
There were more men in her apartment. Cold fear crawled up her skin, wrapping tightly across her neck, and Amelia fumbled for any weapon around her. Her fingers curled around a broomstick, but before she could lunge ahead with it, a cloth was pressed at her mouth while someone else tied her legs. Amelia kicked at the approaching hands, but they were tough and strong, and none of them even bulged from their position.
“Stop squirming, pretty lady.” A vile face closed into hers, yellow teeth curved into a grin.
Amelia jerked her head away, shuddering.
“I can smell that bastard in the air,” another voice broke out from the edge of the room.
“Where is he, then?”
“Must be somewhere close. We should better hurry-”
“Take the woman into the truck then.”
“Roger.”
Amelia’s body landed into someone’s hairy arms; her head propelled over his sturdy shoulder. Sweat licked the man’s shirt inside out, and Amelia gaged. Bile rose in her throat, and she clapped a hand over her face. There was no use struggling against the man’s rock-hard grip, and Amelia submitted noiselessly, silently wishing that Marco would come back.
But Marco was gone. And deep down, Amelia knew that there was no purpose hoping for him to return. She had to figure out some way to escape herself on her own. She had a faint idea that these hairy men must be the part wolves’ who were after the orphan wolf, and so she was determined to gather as much information she could before running away.
Amelia only had herself now. But it was enough.
***
Hair stuck slick to his forehead as Marco scanned the area. The air had turned suddenly still and absolutely silent. Marco could sense magic breathing under the very folds of the wind. To any outsider, it was just another part of the forest. It was another spot to move past. But the malice here pulled Marco’s legs sharply to a halt. He wheeled his gaze slowly around. Under normal circumstances, it was a matter of only a few seconds of uncertainty, and he would have stolen past the dense spells. However, this…was certainly his brother. All Borris's work.
Marco flexed his fingers, head rock-still. He focused his eyes upon the earth, and suddenly felt the vision gradually shift. There were deep, black marks carved into the ground; Circles encrypted with spells of the old magic. It was something people would have forgotten now. Marco studied spells for long hours during his teenage years under the tutorship of Wakerlin's former mage. He knew even the oldest of tricks well. He worked on a counter spell in his mind, sensed the words leap to his lips, and dash to the still air in front.
Sunlight sieved through the leaves overhead, casting shadows spirally on the ground. However, the moment Marco’s lips halted in anticipation; the yellow ball overhead turned charcoal-black. The world was entering thick black darkness. Marco sprang to a huge tree ahead with his back against its trunk. He slipped into the shadows and smothered himself.
A few paces ahead, a pair of teil werewolves guards stood tall. Marco stuck his ear out to listen.
“Hunt and the men are bringing the girl back in the afternoon-”
“Remind me again, how long does Borris intend to stay here?”
“Hardly a week. Possibly less, since the word is that the girl is picking a lot of paces. Something peculiar about her too.”
“I know nothing about that, pal, but she sure is a spunky thing!” He laughed, and added winking, “And beddable!”
Marco caught himself gagging. Sometimes men could get so gross talking about women, but this was his woman they were describing. Rage filled him and he forced himself to focus on the task.
The sound of hooves caught Marco’s ears and he craned his head, gaze fixed ahead. The world rolled down under his feet. His lips turned pale; all color drained from his face. Marco let out a feeble gasp.
