Ashley’s POV
“You’re still not dressed.” His voice cut through the room like a blade, making me freeze mid-step. The way he stood, towering in the doorway with a piercing gaze, sent my heart into overdrive.
“Yeah, ummm… I just… My…” I stammered, looking everywhere but at him, feeling the flush of heat creep up my face. What was I supposed to say? It’s not every day you see a man standing there, his body still damp, a single towel barely clinging to his hips.
Steven’s gaze didn’t soften; if anything, it grew more intense. “The shower is over there,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. His tone made it sound more like an order than a suggestion.
“Wha-what… shower?”
He tilted his head, clearly impatient. “Aren’t you going to take a bath?”
I swallowed hard and nodded quickly, embarrassed by my flustered response. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
He let out a faint sigh. “Then don’t keep me waiting. And try not to test my patience-I’m not in the mood for it today.”
There was something so chilling in his tone that I didn’t dare argue. “Sure… sure,” I mumbled, making a beeline for the bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind me. I took a deep breath, my back pressed against the door, trying to slow my heartbeat.
“This is torture,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand over my forehead. I felt utterly out of my depth. *Be strong, Ashley,* I reminded myself. *You’re doing this for Mom.*
Steven had promised to make my mom conscious again, and that promise was the only thing keeping me here. *You have to be strong for her,* I told myself as I straightened up, grabbed a towel, and stepped into the shower. The hot water was a welcome relief, soothing my nerves and clearing my mind.
But as I finished and reached for my clothes, I realized something awful-they were soaked from lying on the floor, water dripping off them. I was left with nothing but the towel I’d wrapped around myself.
“Oh no.” My eyes darted around, but there was no way out. *I can’t go out like this… he’s out there.*
Panic set in as I paced the small bathroom, biting my lip. *What am I supposed to do?* My hands shook as I gripped the towel tightly.
“Are you giving birth in there?!” His voice boomed through the door, making me jump.
“I-I’m almost done!” I stammered, feeling the weight of his frustration even through the thick door. *Oh God, what do I do?*
“If you’re not out in five seconds, I’ll break down that door.” His words were icy, each syllable laced with authority, leaving no room for doubt.
I let out a defeated sigh and hurriedly pulled the towel tighter around myself, covering my chest as best as I could, and pushed open the door, stepping into the room. My cheeks flushed even more as I met Steven’s gaze-sharp, unreadable, and completely unfazed.
He looked at me coolly, his eyes flicking over me before he said, “Get dressed.”
“R-right now?” I managed to squeak, feeling utterly exposed. “With… with you here?” The idea of dressing with him in the room made my skin prickle with embarrassment.
Steven shook his head, an irritated frown pulling at his lips. “I don’t have time for this, nor am I in the mood.” His voice was curt as he turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him with an exasperated sigh.
I let out a shaky breath and quickly ransacked my luggage, pulling out a yellow top and a fitted black skirt. I tied my hair into a quick ponytail, slipped on my heels, and gave myself a final glance in the mirror. *You’ve got this,* I told myself.
When I made my way out to meet Steven, he was already waiting in his sleek car, his demeanor as intimidating as ever. I instinctively went to sit in the front beside Liam, but Steven’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his tone dangerously low.
“Um… nothing,” I stammered, heat rushing to my cheeks under his steely gaze.
“Do you plan on making me a laughingstock?” His tone was ice-cold, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “Move to the back seat.”
“Wait-beside you?” The thought made my heart skip a beat. Sitting next to him in such a confined space felt too close, too personal. But the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t asking.
“I hate repeating myself,” he said flatly, his voice barely a whisper but filled with a tension that made my skin crawl.
Liam, sitting at the driver’s seat, gave me an apologetic look. “Just go, Ashley. He’s… he’s not in a good mood,” Liam whispered gently, his expression sympathetic.
I grumbled under my breath as I slid into the back seat beside Steven, my body stiff as I tried to maintain as much distance as possible. The silence in the car was thick and oppressive, the air heavy with his unspoken authority. I could feel his presence beside me, every inch of me hyperaware.
After a few tense minutes, I mustered the courage to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. “Um… Steven, when… when are you going to wake my mom up?” My heart pounded in my chest, my hands wringing nervously in my lap.
He glanced at me, his gaze sharp and unreadable. “Tomorrow,” he replied curtly. “I have other matters to attend to today.” His tone left no room for further questions, and I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
******
Freja’s POV
I gripped the steering wheel in frustration, letting out an exasperated groan. “Did the goddess curse me with bad traffic today?!” I’d been stuck here for over an hour, precious time ticking by as my favorite horror movie played without me in the theater.
“My movie, I need to watch my horror movie!” I muttered, glancing at the car ahead of me, willing it to move. But as if the universe finally decided to throw me a bone, the cars inched forward, and I practically bounced in my seat. “Thank you, goddess, thank you!”
I sped to the theater as soon as I was free, practically running inside. “The Annabelle movie-it’s still showing, right?” I asked breathlessly at the reception desk, my eyes wide with hope.
The receptionist gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the movie just ended.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “What?!” I glanced around, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “Damn you, stupid traffic!”
As I stood there, fuming, I caught sight of a familiar figure exiting the theater. It was that rude doctor-the one who had been so dismissive the last time we’d met.
My eyes narrowed as I followed him. *Maybe missing my movie wasn’t such a curse after all,* I thought with a smirk.
He paused near the parking lot, turning around when he sensed me following him. “Why are you following me?” he asked, his tone sharp.
“Hello, rude doctor,” I greeted him, putting on my best mischievous smile.
“It’s Doctor James,” he corrected, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, yeah. Remember me?”
He gave me a once-over, his gaze critical. “Of course. You’re the awfully bold lady with the awful red hair.”
My fists clenched. “Don’t you dare mock my red hair!”
He raised a brow, looking unimpressed. “Are you always this noisy?”
My temper flared. “I swore to the goddess that the next time we met, I’d break a bone or two.”
“Right,” he said dismissively, moving to get into his car.
But I wasn’t letting him get away so easily. I darted forward, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. A loud crack echoed as his elbow dislocated, and I couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction.
“Ouch!” he yelled, but his reaction surprised me. Calmly, he straightened his arm, and with a sickening pop, the joint snapped back into place. He smirked at me, his eyes flashing an eerie, electric blue.
“You…” I stammered, feeling a chill run down my spine. “You’re a werewolf?!”