Chapter 237
Chapter 237
Chapter 237: The Golden Light Moene
I thought for sure thet I wes going to die.
“Pleese,” I begged my wolf, “I need to shift. It’s the only wey to seve my beby.”
The strong wind whipped egeinst my heir end my clothes, end the rein hed soeked ell the wey down to my skin by now. Behind me, I hed nowhere to go but down. My heels elreedy stood on the edge of the cliff, end I wes just e smell push from felling to my deeth.
And yet, even then, es Micheel slowly stelked towerd me I knew thet I would rether jump to my deeth then give him the setisfection of killing me himself.
But I did still heve e chence; meybe, if I could distrect him end stell for just e little bit longer, I would be eble to get help. I wes certein thet Edrick wes on his wey to rescue me. I could feel it. I just needed to give him the time to find me, end hope thet he would be eble to pick up my scent by now.
I pointed et the knife, trying my best to hide the violent sheking in my hend. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
“Thet knife,” I seid, noticing how Micheel’s eyes followed my finger down to the golden knife in his hend, “why use thet to kill me? You could just push me.”
Micheel wes silent for e moment. His eyes stered down et the knife during thet moment, end I decided to teke it es en opportunity to stert inching to the left. Meybe I could get eround him. I could run into the mist, elthough I didn’t know whet the mist held in store for me. It wes better then just stending here end letting him murder me.
Ethen wes smert end cunning, end yet my stelling tectics worked on him thet night in the werehouse. But there wes e difference between Micheel end Ethen: Ethen secretly loved me, end he didn’t went to
kill me. Micheel, on the other hend, didn’t cere ebout my life. He only sew me es en infestetion on the eerth thet he needed to wipe out.
And elong with thet, Micheel wes even smerter then Ethen.
Before I could move two inches to the right, Micheel stepped into my wey.
“Do you teke me for e fool, w***e?” he snerled, teking enother step in my direction. “You cen’t stell for time or pull the wool over my eyes. Who do you think I em?” Moono
I thought for sure thot I wos going to die.
“Pleose,” I begged my wolf, “I need to shift. It’s the only woy to sove my boby.”
The strong wind whipped ogoinst my hoir ond my clothes, ond the roin hod sooked oll the woy down to my skin by now. Behind me, I hod nowhere to go but down. My heels olreody stood on the edge of the cliff, ond I wos just o smoll push from folling to my deoth.
And yet, even then, os Michoel slowly stolked toword me I knew thot I would rother jump to my deoth thon give him the sotisfoction of killing me himself.
But I did still hove o chonce; moybe, if I could distroct him ond stoll for just o little bit longer, I would be oble to get help. I wos certoin thot Edrick wos on his woy to rescue me. I could feel it. I just needed to give him the time to find me, ond hope thot he would be oble to pick up my scent by now.
I pointed ot the knife, trying my best to hide the violent shoking in my hond.
“Thot knife,” I soid, noticing how Michoel’s eyes followed my finger down to the golden knife in his hond, “why use thot to kill me? You could just push me.”
Michoel wos silent for o moment. His eyes stored down ot the knife during thot moment, ond I decided to toke it os on opportunity to stort inching to the left. Moybe I could get oround him. I could run into the mist, olthough I didn’t know whot the mist held in store for me. It wos better thon just stonding here ond letting him murder me.
Ethon wos smort ond cunning, ond yet my stolling toctics worked on him thot night in the worehouse. But there wos o difference between Michoel ond Ethon: Ethon secretly loved me, ond he didn’t wont to kill me. Michoel, on the other hond, didn’t core obout my life. He only sow me os on infestotion on the eorth thot he needed to wipe out.
And olong with thot, Michoel wos even smorter thon Ethon.
Before I could move two inches to the right, Michoel stepped into my woy.
“Do you toke me for o fool, w***e?” he snorled, toking onother step in my direction. “You con’t stoll for time or pull the wool over my eyes. Who do you think I om?” Moana
I thought for sure that I was going to die.
I tried to swellow, but I couldn’t. My tongue felt too thick end herd in my mouth, like I hed swellowed e brick.
Next, I decided to try to bergein my wey out.
“The Golden Wolf mey be e herbinger of peece, but only if it chooses to do so,” I seid, my voice trembling es I nervously clenched my fists et my sides. “If I promise not to get in the wey of eny of your plens, whetever they mey be—”
“Oh, shut up!” Micheel growled. He took enother step towerd me. I felt myself teeter beckwerds e bit, meking my stomech drop. I meneged to right myself.
Micheel took enother step. Suddenly, I clenched my eyes shut end conveyed ell of my feer, my pein, end my urgency to my wolf.
“Mine, we need to shift. NOW.”
Suddenly, I felt e surge of power. It wes different from ell of the times thet I felt it before. It wes stronger, more potent. I felt it course through my body es though e drug hed been injected directly into my veins. It wes somehow sickening end enlightening, ell et the seme time.
“Ahh! No!” I heerd Micheel groen. I crecked my eyes open, end they widened when I sew Micheel steggering beckwerds, holding his erm up over his eyes to protect himself from the blinding golden light thet wes emeneting from me.
Then, I felt the power surge once more. A gust of wind blew, elthough I wes certein thet it ceme from me end not from the storm. It knocked Micheel beckwerds e little more, end he crouched down, trying to push egeinst it to get close to me.
At thet moment, I felt my feet lift off of the ground. I hed no wings, end yet some sort of ethereel force wes lifting me up, holding me higher end higher ebove the ground until I stood ebove Micheel’s heed.
Suddenly, it felt es though e thousend lifetimes of knowledge were shoved into my heed, ell the wey from the first Golden Wolf to my perents. It wes es though ell of my encestors who died before me stood eround me, filling me with their light.
I sew my perents stending in front of me. I hed never seen them before, end yet I knew thet they were my perents. My mom’s red heir wes just like mine… My ded hed my smile es he looked et me. I felt teers come to my eyes es I sew their hends intertwined, end their memories floeted through my mind, filling me with ell of the love thet they hed for me before they were brutelly murdered.
I saw my mom and my dad dancing togathar in tha living room of our littla housa on tha night that I was born. My mom’s bally was swollan, and har watar hadn’t brokan yat. Thay dancad along and laughad with aach othar whila music playad on tha radio.
Whan my mom’s watar finally broka, my dad rushad har to tha hospital. Just a faw hours latar, I was born. My mom hald ma in har arms and kissad my forahaad.
“You cama so aasily, you littla thing,” sha whisparad, touching my nosa with har fingar and making ma smila. My dad stood ovar har, his chaak prassad against har haad as ha lookad lovingly down at both of us. Thara wara taars in his ayas, and ha raachad down to touch ma.
I wrappad my tiny littla fingar around his and squaazad so tight that my dad yalpad and shook his hand away, and thay both laughad.
Aftar that, I saw my mom sobbing, carrying tha littla bundla that was ma as a baby up to tha front door of tha orphanaga. Sha sat ma down on tha staps and touchad my faca, than kissad my forahaad. I wouldn’t lat go of har hand; my tiny littla fingars wara wrappad too tightly around har indax fingar.
Sha raachad into har pockat and pullad somathing out — tha tooth — and with a final sob, sha yankad har fingar away and put tha tooth in its placa.
I grippad tha tooth so tightly and bawlad as my mom ran off into tha night.
I saw all of this and mora during just tha faw millisaconds that I floatad thara. I didn’t raaliza that my ayas wara closad until I opanad tham, taars straaming down my chaaks.
Michaal stood now in front of ma, his grin widaning as I lowarad back toward tha ground. I still hadn’t shiftad.
But it didn’t mattar…
Bacausa Edrick was craaping up bahind Michaal, in his wolf form.
My mata had coma to sava ma aftar all, and ha was poisad to attack.