Her mark itched once more; something seemed amiss. Molly emerged into the clearing, and Jayce’s gaze located her immediately, as though the wind had carried her scent directly to him. He halted his combat upon seeing her and took a solitary step towards Molly, as if he could scarcely believe it was indeed her. Her presence was noted.
“Beware!” she exclaimed, inwardly imploring him to avert his gaze from her, to remain undistracted by her presence, but it was too late.
One of the two wolves subdued Jayce, targeting his neck.
Initially, everything ached as the world radiated brilliantly around her. Her sole focus was to reach Jayce and rescue him. He was unable to perish; she would not permit his demise. All other aspects were indistinct. Her bones felt as though they were rupturing through her skin, and she experienced a simultaneous sensation of expansion and contraction throughout her body. Time seemed to extend for hours, despite the reality that it had only been mere seconds. She recognised that the most excruciating moments of her life would remain indelibly etched in her memory.
Her wolf was liberated.
“Mate!” her wolf exclaimed in her mind.
Brilliant white fur erupted from her skin as she dashed to Jayce the moment her feet touched the floor, without hesitation. She evaded other wolves in the throng before colliding with his body and propelling him away from the wolf’s claws. Suddenly, she experienced a piercing, blinding pain in her neck. It obscured her vision immediately, and she fell with a forceful impact that trembled the ground. Blood saturated her fur and tarnished the ground below her. Was this her ultimate conclusion? Would her physique permit her to endure this?
Molly!
Molly perceived Jayce’s voice resonating within her thoughts. She also heard an unfamiliar voice that resonated with a sense of familiarity. She desired to nestle against the sound and shut her eyes indefinitely.
It was as though an electric current had coursed through her body, awakening her for the first time in her existence. She sensed him, perceiving their wolves as a singular entity. Their bond established itself within her essence, and she believed she could not endure a day without it now that it resided freely within her. This was destined to occur.
“My friend… What have they inflicted upon you? Why is your injury not healing?” he enquired, questioning whether it was Jayce’s wolf addressing her. Molly closed her eyes, listening to Jayce furiously dispatching every wolf surrounding her. She surmised it was horrific; she presumed it was a significant bloodbath, yet she lacked the energy to open her eyes and witness it. Her life was deteriorating more rapidly than she could comprehend. Visions of her memories flickered before her, resembling a grand performance on a stage. What a magnificent phenomenon.
Memories from her youth, including her initial visit to the palace and her first encounter with Kylie. She reflected on the past, envisioning Jayce’s arms enveloping her protectively as they endeavoured to endure the frigid nights. Why had he clung to her so fervently? What motivated him to devastate numerous villages for her?
She heard her name uttered by him countless times, yet she could not perceive his presence. She appeared to be in a distant, dimly lit room, detached from any semblance of reality. She desired to strike the walls and insist on her release, yet the darkness persisted regardless of her location.
Molly regained consciousness in the cabin, and her surroundings were tranquil once again. Did she…? Did she envision that? Did she envision rescuing Jayce and transforming into a wolf herself? It was implausible; it must have been a nightmare. She likely lost consciousness after her return and experienced a distressing dream.
However, discomfort experienced in dreams typically did not accompany her upon awakening.
Jayce was positioned in a chair beside her bed, resting his chin on his hand with his eyes closed. The sight startled her; she swiftly glanced down to observe herself ensconced in additional bandages. At this juncture, her entire body must have been covered in scars. She must be exceedingly unattractive.
As though sensing her gaze upon him, his eyes gradually opened. Upon observing her consciousness, he immediately sat upright. “Molly, you are fine.”
“What transpired?” Molly enquired. Her voice was hoarse and painful; she was beginning to acclimatise to the unpleasant sensation. It was as if she had not consumed water in years. He likely observed her discomfort, leaning over to fetch a cold glass of water from the end table beside her and placing it in her trembling hands.
“You transformed, Molly. Were you aware of your ability to do so?” he enquired with curiosity, his blue eyes observing her as she drank.
Was this an illusion? This cannot be genuine; none of this is authentic.
