It's been 364 days since I have updated, Christmas really has rolled around quickly! So this update is my Christmas present to you all – have a good one!
BPOV
Sitting on my newly tiled black kitchen floor is the girl from the picture. A rogue, a threat. She has cereal boxes scattered all around her with broken china littering every surface. I'm about ready to end her right there for ruining my newly fitted kitchen with handmade black granite worktops when a growl escapes me. Her head snaps around, her wide eyes meeting mine and her pristine white fangs protruding in an effort to warn me off her territory. But this is not her territory, it's mine. Before she can even process what is happening I have her by the neck and slam her body hard into the empty wall behind. I snarl at her and bare my fangs while I grip her neck tighter.
"What are you doing on my property?" I demand while resisting the urge to snap her milky cream, tender neck.
A whimper is all she responds with while she tries to claw at my hand. I ram her into the wall again and hear the sweet crunch of bones cracking. She lets out a silent cry and then connects her almost unseeing eyes with my alert ones which contain a slight glint of worry. In her dull teal orbs I register pain, fear and sadness radiating from her. I drop her suddenly and her now limp body connects with the cold, hard floor. She slowly brings her legs to her chest into the foetal position in an attempt to comfort herself. She tries to cry but nothing escapes her. A wave of guilt washes over me but it is quickly replaced by frustration. I kneel down to her level.
"I asked you a question. What are you doing here?" I spit at her. She simply closes her eyes. I get up to walk away when I hear her take a deep breath.
"He brought me here, to you." She whispers.
My body shoots around and I stare at her trying to figure out who she means. But before I can ask she continues.
"He found me and said you could help, said I could trust you."
"Who is he?" I demand through gritted teeth.
"Blue eyes..." she mutters before losing consciousness.
I feel my body freeze up with shock. It can't be him, why would he make himself known to me now, after all these years? I force myself out of my daze and bring myself to the matter lying before me, now lightly snoring. I roughly pick her up with one of my arms under her legs which are covered with dark blue jeans and my other arm behind her back. I walk out of my kitchen and make a right turn towards the steel door disguised as a standard black door, but covered with locks. I yank it open and step inside making sure to lock it behind me. I walk down the stairs to the flat below that I purchased to serve as my basement and supply room.
When I reach the bottom step the overwhelming smell of stale blood and dust attacks my nostrils. I have to clamp my hand over my face to prevent myself from gagging, which in turn makes the girl legs hang limp from the absence of my arm. Propping her up in one of the four corners of the claustrophobic room, I go over to the metal cabinet across from her and pull out shackles and walk back to her unconscious body. I enclose her wrists behind the thick titanium hand cuffs, secure them above her head and then do the same with her ankles but secure the chain to the floor so she has limited movement. I stand up and take the time to take in her appearance. Her skin is pale, too pale, like she hasn't consumed any blood in weeks. With this and the dark blue rings around her eyes, I am suddenly concerned for this young girl and regret how I have been treating her. But I quickly remind myself how rogues are violent, impulsive and highly unpredictable.
I should know.
Sorry it's so short, the next chapter will be a lot longer :)