Moana
As I walked into the pack house, I ran into Lucas in the hallway. He flashed me a warm smile, "Moana, I wasn't expecting you,"
I nodded slowly, returning his smile, "Hi, Lucas," I walked past him, entering his room without waiting for an invitation. Lucas followed, sitting down beside me on the bed, "Here, have some tea," He said, offering me a steaming cup.
But I hesitated, remembering how the tea always made me feel queasy. Lucas noticed my reluctance and set the cup aside, "Let me get you some juice instead," He said, heading to the counter.
As he handed me the juice, his expression turned serious, "Did Jericho rough-handle you after left here yesterday?" He asked keenly, while searching my eyes for a clue.
I looked down, trying to hide my emotions, but my body language betrayed me. Lucas' eyes narrowed, anger was the only emotions that surge in him.
He gently lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, "Why does everyone hate you, Moana?" He asked, "Because I'm plus-size, I guess," I replied, trying to hide the tears lurking in my eyes.
"That's not true. I only see a beautiful woman with a lovely character," Lucian said, the words somewhat feels good to me, causing my heart skipped a beat as his words washed over me.
"If I asked for something, would you do it for me?" He asked, looking at me, and I nodded immediately urging him to proceed.
"I want to elope with you, soon," He dropped the bombshell, my eyes widened because I was taken aback, and shocked by his words, "Why would you want to elope with me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Because I really like you, Moana, regardless of your status. And I couldn't bear to see you suffer," Lucas said, sincerity was I find in his eyes, but I fear we might be caught and probably be killed.
"But, the pack, it's like a mafia clan," I protested, fear could be seen in my face, and I nibbled on my lower lip.
"Don't worry, I have it under control," He said, giving me a assuring smile.
~•~~
I approached Jericho, expecting to find him in his usual composed state. Instead, he was seated on a chair, muttering incoherently. His face was pale, and sweat dripped from his brow despite the comfortable temperature in the room.
My initial thought was to end my misery once and for all; to kill him and escape. Lucas' words echoed in my mind, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to harm him. Why was I hesitating when this was my only chance at freedom?
While I watched him struggle, my curiosity got the better of me. I leaned in closer, trying to make out what he was saying. His words were barely audible, but I managed to catch one phrase, 'Mother?'
His face contorted in anguish, and tears streamed down his cheeks. He screamed for his mother, and his body shaking with sobs. I felt a pang of concern, despite my hatred towards him.
Was this some sort of nightmare? It seemed so real to him, and his distress was palpable. I grabbed a clean cloth from his drawer and began to gently wipe away his sweat.
The more I tended to him, the harder he cried. Suddenly, he grasped my arm, his grip like a vice, "Please don't leave me," He begged, crackingly.
I glared at him, but my anger faltered when I saw the softness in his eyes. This was a side of him I'd never seen before.
"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now. Whatever is haunting you, it's not real. You're strong," I whispered, trying to soothe him.
I continued to speak softly, trying to calm him down, "You're not alone. I'm here with you," His grip on my arm tightened, but he seemed to relax slightly, and his sobs began to subside.
As I tried to leave, Jericho pulled me back, making my face crashed on his. His skin was cold to the touch. I struggled to break free, but he held me tight, begging me not to leave.
Then, just as suddenly, he stopped. I realized his eyes were now open, and without thinking, he pushed me away, sending me crashing to the floor.
I cried out in pain, clutching my bruised side, but Jericho didn't flinch. Earlier, he was helpless and groaning; now, his expression was twisted in anger.
"What are you doing in my room?" He growled. I winced, still in pain, "You told me to come tonight,"
Instead of accusing me, he walking closer towards me, when he got to me, he crouched down beside me, "What did you see?" He asked, in a deadly tone. I shook my head quickly, "Nothing,"
"I know you witnessed my trauma. You could have killed me earlier. Why didn't you do it?" He asked, suspiciously.
I swallowed hard, "I don't know,"
"Maybe you didn't kill me then, but that doesn't mean you don't want me dead," Jericho sneered, "I do want you dead," I screamed to his face, all he did was rolled his eyes as if my threat meant nothing.
"I'm sure you do,"
He stood up, turning his back to me, "If there was anything I could use to compare how much you disgust me, it would be impossible to get,"
He trailed off, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, "Your father was my sworn enemy. You were sold to me to rescue his son. Shouldn't you be the one to kill me when you had every chance to?"
My heart skipped a beat as the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. My brother had always told me that our father was in deep debt, was that why he disappeared?
Jericho turned back to me, "But I don't want you dead yet. I want you to experience everything I've gone through and worse,"
He leaned in closer, causing his cold breath to tamper with my skin, "Prepare yourself. That's the consequence for not killing me when you had every chance to make it happen,"