While Artemis knew absolutely nothing about herself, one daunting characteristic was beginning to become clear: her craziness.
The scowl on the dirty werewolf she was approaching was a bright red, size 72 font warning to make an immediate u-turn. Yet she still followed the stranger who seemed far more interested in introducing his first to her jaw than answers to her questions.
He was clearly as distraught as she was. But this unstableness wasn’t enough to stop her. She was so desperate to unknot her amnesia that she was determined to ask the man to take her to his alpha.
Artemis wondered if she had always been this... audacious. Was the person who owned this body a thrill seeker? Maybe she had been normal but the car accident took her memories and sanity with it.
“Hi... I,” her trembling voice greeted him. She opened her mouth to continue her sentence, but a roughed, tanned hand paused the movement of her lips. The savage man pointed to his right wordlessly, aiming for the road.
A displeased growl emerged when she stubbornly shook her head. “No, please. I was in an accident. I lost my memories... do you even speak English?” she tried to communicate. Her expression crumbled to hopelessness. A language barrier was the last thing she needed right now.
When he simply stared back heatedly, Artemis nearly cried out her frustration. He couldn’t tell her where his alpha was if he didn’t speak English!
She ransacked her brain for any language skills she may have. As she probed the organ for that specialty, she realized she knew French!
She licked her lips and the action immediately made Wrath’s eyes drop. Artemis, too busy rummaging through her mental French dictionary didn’t notice the attention her lips were getting.
When she was sure she pieced the sentence together properly, she put her education to use. “Est-ce que tu parles français?”
Hoping that she got the message across, she searched for any recognition. None was found.
“Shit!” the frantic woman cursed.
Wrath stared solemnly as he feigned ignorance. Truth be told, he understood every single line she said. He had invested much of the years the goddess’ curse so generously gifted him into books. Reading about new cultures added some coloring to the bland cycle that had become his life. But he eventually lost interest in languages; Finding no purpose in learning how to talk to people when he didn’t have anyone to talk to. It’s not like he had neighbors who occasionally stopped by to share a cup of coffee.
He understood that the woman had some form of amnesia and was seeking his help, but he was adamant to send her away before his darkness damaged her more than the car crash itself. He needed her to leave so he could finish the task she interrupted.
If she knew he understood English, she would be less reluctant to stay. And if she stayed, he’d suffocate all the good in her. Drain her light, dampen her soul and replace smiles with tears.
An envious beast unable to see joy in others... that’s what he is. He once shoved a blade into an innocent’s woman’s heart and he was liable to do it again. Because he was a liar. A murder. Every bad name in the book.
But she was normal, gorgeous, good. The very definition of perfection. A gift from the moon goddess wrapped up in a red bow that read “restricted.”
She belonged in the arms of another man. A better man. While he belonged splattered on the rocks found at the end of that 200 feet drop.
He lifted his arm and once again pointed in the direction of the road before turning and heading to his cabin.
Light footsteps trailed after his heavier ones. The headstrong woman was following him.
Wrath was fine with that; convinced that she’ll leave him be after getting tired of his cold shoulder.