The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...

Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight (Jeremy Marsh & Lexie Darnell, #2)

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Isabella

I woke up in the morning to an empty bedroom again. The sunlight streaming from the open window. I can hear grunts and men shouting. My eyes swept the room once again, reassuring that I was alone before I scooted off the bed and headed to the connected bathroom. I washed and showered before stepping out with Malcolm's dark grey towel wrapped around me.

I had no clothes to wear. I brought nothing. It was hard to carrying belonging when a mad male lycan was chasing after me. Gregory was a disgusting lycan—abusive and repulsive but I stuck with him because it will ward off my father's tracers. They will never expect me to head into a cruel lycan leader's territory but it was a decision that bore consequences for me. Gregory relished in pain.

I walked over to Malcolm's dresser. I pulled out the top drawer and took one of his long grey t-shirts. I slipped it on before closing the drawer closed. I could try to find pants but I knew it wouldn't fit. Malcolm was tall and big. I was short and curvy but even I don't have enough curves to fit into his boxers, shorts, or pants. Deciding to go without any undergarments on, I wrapped my arms tightly around me and took a few steps into the middle of the room.

Again, the sound of men shouting and grunting pierced my concentration. I walked over to the window and looked out. What I saw took my breath away.

Malcolm was half naked wearing only the traditional Scotland kilt. I giggled from my position. It was kind of hilarious that in this time of era they were still wearing traditional Scotland kilts during training but can I blame them? We have been around for hundreds of years. Times have changed but we kept a few olden day tactics and traditions.

He looked marvelously handsome in the kilt though. American might view it as a skirt or a dress but in this country, it was particularly a turn on. The patterns and color on the kilts reveal the clans and families' lineage that can be traced back even before I was born.

Malcolm was a fierce competitor. When he fights, his opponent receives his full attention. I leaned further out the window. Allowing my hazel-gold eyes to greedily take in what I have missed for ten years. He was still so broad and tall. His muscles stretched and pulled taut with every fighting move. Sometimes when Lycans trained they will shift into their Lycans but most of the time it was done in human form. Mostly to prep their weaker side to become stronger. God, it was hard not to be attracted to him. He stood out amongst all the male Lycans below.

When Malcolm knocked his opponent to the ground, the fallen male Lycan caught sight of me. Malcolm turned immediately to see where his attention was and saw me leaning half of my body out. I gasped before pulling back. I walked over to the bed and sat down.

I saw his dark blue eyes darkening the minute he saw me. He was either angry or lusting. I am not sure which. I didn't stay long enough to see.

"God! I am so embarrassed! He probably caught me ogling him like an idiot." I groaned and face planted in the pillow.

His scent wrapped around me. Nobody knows how much his scent comforts me. Years of running and fleeing, you start to miss home. You start to miss what makes you feel safe. It was lonely and frightening.

I remember one raining cold night, I was completely broke. It was hard to get a job when you are constantly on the run. I could never stay around a place too long knowing that Gregory was hot on my tails. I slept with one eye open every night.

I survived but it did break me down.

Now I was back here and taking in his scent. Warmth will spread over me but my heart will hurt. It wasn't the same. I was a prisoner and I don't even know if me being here was a good thing. Will it be safe for him? For all the Lycans here?

Maybe if I would have given up and did what my father had told me to do. I wouldn't be in this situation. I wouldn't have met Malcolm. He wouldn't have grown cold and angry. He would have been better off.

I heard the metal bolt shifting before Damon walked into the room. He gave me a warm smile. I didn't understand why he wasn't angry with me. I hurt his friend. I ran away from them. He still treated me like a sister.

"Brought you some breakfast." He sat the tray down on the bed.

"Thank you," I whispered sadly and picked up a piece of nicely toasted toast. I cut a little piece of butter and spread it on the warm toast. Bringing it to my lips, I felt my taste buds explode. It was just a piece of bread but I didn't realize how hungry I was until now.

I wolf the toast down like nothing. Damon chuckled and I looked up at him with a mouthful of food. I grabbed the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice taking a sip to help the solids go down faster.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked.

He nodded, looking at me inquiringly. I fiddled with the fork as I spoke to him.

"Why don't you hate me?" I asked.

He chuckled, "I know you. You wouldn't hurt him, Izzy." Damon simply said.

I frowned, "I find It hard to believe that you don't hate me but he does."

"Because he invested more than his heart to you. When you left, he felt betrayed." Damon said wisely.

I sighed and moved the baked potatoes around my plate. I contemplated my situation. I could do either two things. I could continue to make him hate me and keep me prisoner. I can try to talk to him and reasoned with him to allow me to leave. If I told him the truth, will he believe me? Would he let me leave then?

"Why did you leave, Izzy?" Damon asked.

Before I could answer him, the door opened and Malcolm walked in. His eyes landed on Damon and the tray of food before looking at me. I set my fork down on the plate, feeling like I did something wrong.

"Damon, get out," Malcolm ordered.

"But I just brought her breakfast," Damon answered.

"Out," Malcolm said through clenched teeth.

Damon sighed and gave me an apologetic look before standing up and leaving. It was just Malcolm and me now. The sweat that glistened on his skin was possibly the most distracting thing I have ever seen. I glanced back down at my plate and poked at a potato. The silence was giving me anxiety.

"Why were you looking out the window?" He asked.

"I heard shouting. I just wanted to see what was going on." I pointed out.

I pushed the tray away, feeling my appetite gone now. I moved to stand up and walk to the other side of the room to give us more distance but his hand tightening around my elbow stopped me.

I didn't realize how close he was to me until now. I looked up at him in confusion. His dark gaze roamed my body. I became painfully aware that I had on his t-shirt. He closed his eyes tightly and I swallowed hard. His hand tightened around my elbow almost painfully.

"If you don't want me to wear it, I can find something else to wear. I can ask if Damon can bring me something of his-"

"It's fine." He bit out, interrupting me.

My gaze dropped and I tried to take a step back. He didn't budge.

"Why did you come back, Isabella?" His eyes opened to look into my own.

I licked my dry lips. I felt like the air in the room seemed to have left me. His eyes searched mine for answers. My lips parted to speak but he pushed me away.

He turned his back on me and headed for the connected bathroom. I spoke up then, I don't know what drove me to speak—maybe it was desperation for him to believe me but I spoke up.

"I am in trouble." I whispered softly. His steps faltered and his back stiffened but he didn't turn around.

I looked at his strong back and shoulder muscles as I spoke. I needed to tell him before I lost any more confidence.

"I am being chased by a lycan leader Gregory." I told him. Malcolm turned around then.

"Why?" He questioned, his voice threateningly low.

"I lived in his pack for five years. He was a horrible lycan. He did some awful things and when I couldn't take it any more I left but he didn't let me go. He has been chasing me. I ran onto your land because I knew he wouldn't dare cross but I got caught." I hurried to explain.

His eyes flashed golden. His lycan peering back at me. I looked down at the ground because what I spoke next wasn't what my heart wanted.

"I need to leave because of this. He will find me." I whispered.

In a flash, Malcolm was before me. He gripped my arms tightly in his hands and pulled me close to his body. I can feel his naked chest pressed against my thin t-shirt. My nipples hardened upon contact. I knew he felt it too.

"I think you have other problems to worry about. I don't give a fuck what he wants. Let him try but he will have to get past me to get to you." He whispered in a deadly voice, his smoldering golden eyes burning with a new kind of fire. "That doesn't mean you will get to leave, Isabella."

"I can't stay here. Don't you understand? I am putting everyone at risk." I tried pushing against his chest but he tightened his grip around me and yanked me flush against his body. I felt like my body was on fire. Fireworks shot through every nerve in my body. I was on full alert and my body was brazenly turned on.

"And I am going to tell you once again, listen very carefully, Isabella. I am not letting you go." He grounded out.

"Why?" My struggling body slackened with defeat. "Why keep me here when you hate me? Why don't you just throw me back out there so that I can keep running?"

"Because you are my prisoner not his." He remarked.

My heart twisted in pain in my chest. It wasn't the answer I wanted. Maybe he really gotten over me.

"Wouldn't it be better if I just end it here? That way neither of you will have to deal with me." I muttered quietly.

He snarled and an enticing shudder ran down my spine to my core. In a blink of an eye, he had me pinned down on the bed. My eyes immediately met his golden ones. His lycan clearly still present and making his supremacy known.

"Maybe I have a different way of dealing with you. Either way, you aren't leaving me." He whispered huskily. He dipped and his nose ran up my exposed collar bone to my neck. I trembled with a burning need underneath him and he knew me all too well. He was the first one to explore my body. He was the first one to know what he can do with his hands and mouth to make me fall apart underneath him.

What did he mean? How was he going to deal with me?