Chapter 52

The floorboards of the old house buried in the woods creaked every single goddamn time I moved. It wouldn't just shut up. The second floor of the house was quieter than the first one, but I wasn't here alone. There was another woman Malik introduced to me.

'She'll take care of your needs.'

I didn't believe that. Maude was an elderly woman who looked around the house and kept it tidy, therefore no dust lingered in the air. She also managed the garden outside and the little pool that rested next to the lake.

My room was prepared when I came, almost as if Nicholas had been planning this. Who knew? He easily let me go—forced me away when once he had forced me to stay.

"Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. If there's something else you'd like to have for dinner, you can let me know and I'll try preparing it." The woman stepped near the open door of the bedroom and said while I sprawled over the couch.

"I don't want to eat anything," I said with a weak smile, feeling both guilty that I was burdening this kind old woman and angry at what Nicholas had done. "Thank you. I'll just—I want to get some rest."

Maude looked at me with concern in her eyes. "Are you sure, dear? You need to eat something. You look pale and tired."

I shook my head, my eyes closing for a moment. "It's fine."

I heard her shuffle back down the hallway, her footsteps creaking along the old wooden floorboards. A small groan left my throat and I rose up from the couch, frustrated at every single noise in this house.

I didn't want to be here.

"Your bags," Malik barged in, carrying two barely filled bags in his hands. "Anything else you want?"

"No," I took the bags from his hands and dropped them onto the ground beside the bed. Before Malik left the room, I stopped him and he turned back around. "I just want some painkillers, if you can get it from a pharmacy or something."

I tried to shake off the pain, but it refused to let me go, even with everything going on. The skin on my palms had turned bright red, some of it even torn as the result of my desperate escape from my brother and his evil friends. I couldn't even remember how many times I had stumbled and fallen as I ran through the forest.

Despite the pain in my hands, however, I was grateful that my feet were feeling better. The pain had settled after whatever Nicholas put on the cuts.

"You can wander around if you want. You're not a prisoner," Malik took a step backward and said while keeping his eyes on me. "Not this time." He joked, cheering my mood a little.

"Get out."

The corners of my lips lifted into a forced smile as I heard him over the weak floorboards and then out of the door. I could hear Maude in the kitchen, doing something with the dishes as they were clattering and clinking.

Taking Malik's advice, I headed downstairs where the living room was dimly lit. I snaked my hands over the objects placed on the shelves along with the few books that were arranged in clean order. Nearing the fireplace, I dropped my hands near it and felt the warmth seeping through my skin.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of something outside. It was odd.

My brows furrowed as I listened closely. Was there someone else here? Peeking through the curtains, I saw two shadows in the distance, near the garden that Maude was taking care of. There were two men, standing against each other and cackling.

"Who are the men outside?" I asked Maude, entering her kitchen.

"They are here for your protection. Mr. Malik had sent them earlier so they could prepare and ensure the grounds were clear—"

I stopped her instantly, "How earlier?"

"A few hours before your arrival."

I looked away from Maude and folded my arms across my chest. A few hours. It was a two-hour drive here, from Nicholas' house which meant he planned all of this and didn't want to tell me until the very end.

A sense of unease washed over me and I stepped out of the kitchen. Maybe it was the smell of whatever was roasting inside the oven, or maybe something else. An unusual pain started to form in my stomach, making me feel nauseous.

Before I emptied the carpet in the living room, I rushed upstairs and to the washroom. However, the nausea disappeared by the time I was under the bright white lights of the washroom.

My gaze fell over my hands that were tightened around the sink. The skin on my hands started to itch and burn. But it didn't stop there. I watched in horror as my fingers began to stretch and contort into something I never imagined myself to become, not in all the years I had lived.

"Fuck." A searing pain shot through my spine, causing me to arch my back in agony.

I gripped the sink tighter, getting a hold of myself before something worse happened—or better. It took me a minute to understand that I was shifting.

But how could I? I didn't have a wolf and I believed I wouldn't get one, probably ever.

The bones in my fingers shifted, moving under the skin. I quickly drew my hand away from the sink and stepped back as my face scrunched with pain. The feeling passed as suddenly as it had come, leaving me confused and a bit scared.

What happened?

A knock landed on the open door of my room and I rushed out of the washroom to find Malik standing at the doorway with a plastic bag in his hand.

"There are some painkillers, and some bandaids, and other things." He said, stretching his arm to me.

"Thank you." I whispered, my voice shaking a little as I reached out to take the bag from his hold.

He left seconds after that and I slammed the door shut. My heart raced and a hundred thoughts appeared in my mind, one worse than the other one. Was I shifting? No, that couldn't be possible. Not now.

I shuffled through the bag with my quivering hands and took a few painkillers to ease both my nerves and the pain erupting in my body. It was coming slowly and then going away, then appearing again. I swallowed down the pills and looked around the room.

What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to shift, or how to shift back, or anything. I couldn't do this alone. But who could I even ask for help? There was no one here asides from Malik and I didn't want to tell him what was happening. He would straight to Nicholas and that was the last thing I wanted.

His attention.

I ran my hands through my face before sitting down on the bed and examining myself. The first shift was always painful, or so I heard, but it was only supposed to last a few minutes and then a wolf would emerge. It wasn't supposed to come out slowly.

The sheets at the hospital—I had torn them and it made me think of only one thing. That I was turning but it was taking longer than it should. I wasn't in control of my own transformation as I heard everyone else had been.

What did it mean?

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