Running From Wolves

Walking towards her apartment in small town Indiana, Ashlynn had her arms wrapped tight around her jacket. A car sped past, and she glimpsed over her shoulder watching it suspiciously till it drove out of sight her feet crunching in the snow. Her dumb ass station wagon was in the shop again with one of those spectacular engine sounds that promised to be expensive. These days, she could barely afford her apartment and ramen noodles, let alone the bill for the mechanic.

She missed the days when her future had seemed so bright. Art school had been a blast. The teachers had praised her work, she'd won awards, even found the perfect boyfriend, or so he'd seemed at the time. The future seemed flawless when she'd moved to Seattle with Ryan, and for a few months it was. Ryan was having trouble finding work, but she managed a gallery opening within a few months, and everything was going to be flawless. Until it wasn't anymore.

Snow crunched far behind her. Ashlynn's heart dropped through to her bladder, and her mouth ran dry. Glancing back she looked around panicked, but it was dark and she didn't see anything. Turning back she walked faster, and as her own snow stomping footprints continued to echo on the houses she passed by, she kept picking up pace until she was shaking and panting by her own front door. Hey eyes kept flashing around like a feral cat's as she dug out her keys and tried to put them in the lock. She dropped them three times before she managed to get inside. Spinning around, she didn't pause until the deadbolt, chain latch and door lock were in place and the security system she'd spent the last of her start-up money on was activated.

Leaning against the nearest wall, she let herself slip to the scraped up wood floor. Crashing her head into her palms she shuddered an empty moan with no one aloud to hear as hot tears wet her cheeks. Three months and the bruises were gone, but the damage was not.

Walking home from the gallery, where the final touches were being put on an exhibition, she couldn't hide the smile owning her face. Everything was going perfectly, and there were whispers that Ryan might propose at the opening the next week. Practically skipping, she heard her phone alert and checked her messages.

Drinks L8r?

Ashlynn grinned, Naomi always was the party girl. Not tonight.

Winding around the block to their apartment building, honestly wasn't sure what could make her happier. Climbing the stairs, riding the elevator, and opening the front door, the only thing running through her mind was how exactly Ryan might help her celebrate.

Nothing seemed amiss when she opened the front door and tossed her keys in the bowl, kicking off her heels. "Ryan?" she called, not seeing him on the couch or in the kitchen. She still had that stupid grin on her face as she confirmed that his keys were still in the bowl by the door too.

Stretching her feet as she walked to the kitchen and dragged out a water bottle. Taking out her phone, she checked the time. It was 3, she had finished up early. Must be taking a nap, she thought. Biting her lip she took a gulp of water and started unbuttoning her shirt as she crept towards their bedroom. Getting to the door, her black bra revealed the abundant cleavage she'd seduced Ryan with the first night she'd met him in his frat house wearing an Alice in Wonderland costume. Blonde bouncing curls she now only let down on days she didn't work, which were mostly days that didn't end in 'y.'

Opening the door, she'd meant to surprise him, but finding him with a red head bouncing on his dick on their kitchen table, she was fairly certain he won.

"Ashlynn," Ryan shouted surprised, rolling over quickly with Naomi landing on the floor.

Bursting into tears, I turned and ran out, pulling my shirt without and ignoring the buttons. I grabbed a coat, slid my feet into a pair of flip-flops by the door and kept walking. "Ashlynn, wait," Ryan called, chasing after her with a half buttoned pair of jeans, those sculpted abs on full display.

She looked back, and no without a doubt it was over. "When I get back, I want you gone," she fumed, her chest heaving.

"Ashlynn, it's not what it looks like. Come on, baby. I love you," he said, as she waited impatiently for the elevator.

Ashlynn swung back, took two steps forward and slapped him square across the jaw. "No, I loved you. But you will always love yourself more, you narcissistic ass," she barked, as the elevator door opened. "Get out, and stay out."

Wiping down her shower mirror with her damp towel, Ashlynn stared into her bloodshot worn reflection. There was a time she'd felt unstoppable. These days she knew better. Part of her knew the light behind those bright blue eyes had died since the last time she'd meant her own smile. Wrinkles had worn into her pale brow and she'd grown almost disgustingly pale. Even her blonde curls had dimmed from cheap shampoo and lack of effort.

Tying her robe tight over her tank top and panties, she wandered out to the living room where canvases in varying stages of completion covered every available surface. An easel with a canvas in progress sat next to a table coated in painting supplies; an old stool in front of it. On one side of the room a window looked out at a snow covered hill below that led down to a tree-lined creek. On the other side, a breakfast window was lined with empty wine bottles she hadn't bothered to set outside to the curb. True to habit, she pulled out a brown bag she'd brought home and took out a bottle of cheap red wine, and poured a heavy glass.

Setting up her paints, brushes, and water, she sat on the stool, propping a long leg up on the stool with her as she stared at the gray and deep purple alleyway she'd painted the night before, the moon piercing in from above. Over the next couple hours, the wine bottle dwindled as she painted with trained skill and detail wolves in tattered suits and dress shirts and men who looked even more monstrous with cat-like golden eyes and too perfect faces. She painted the dark night with shadowed faces until they began to blur, her eyes unable to stay open. Arching her back, and stretching, she stood tense. Surrendering, she gathered her brushes, her eyes wandering out the window.

A flash of motion outside caught her off her guard and thirteen paintbrushes clattered to the floor. Her heart was racing as she scanned the snow looking for something moving in the darkness. After a long moment, Ashlynn rubbed her eyes and began cleaning the mess. Twenty minutes later, she crawled into bed.

Fifteen stories below, a man appeared out from behind a tree, still watching the now black window. She was really was quite talented, he admitted, pulling out his phone. She also knew how to get the hell out of dodge, even human police would have had a hell of a time finding this chick, but hunting her down had taken all of three months. Tricky, because she's been smart enough to avoid relatives, but there was more than one way to skin a cat.

"Blaise, I found your girl," Hayden, offered crossing his leather clad arms and shaking snow off a leather shoe.

"Is she alright?" Blaise snapped from the other end.

Hayden smiled, "She's in one piece, but Blaise, there's something you should see. . ."

"Where are you?" he demanded, and despite the late hour, Hayden could hear him grabbing his keys and storming out the front door with a slam.

"Indiana. I'm sending you the address."

"Watch her, Hayden. I'm coming. Don't let anything happen to her," Blaise ordered, and Hayden almost thought he heard concern dripping from the angry tyrant.

The line went dead, and he rolled his eyes, leaning against the tree. "Yeah sure Bro, let me just spend a nice long night outside in the snow." It didn't really matter, it wouldn't kill him.

Behind closed eye lids, Ashlynn's dreams were haunted with monsters chasing her down city streets, hunting blood. Fading into memories, of her body wrapped in red, rotating her hips freely in the middle of a night club. Of hands big enough to cradle a basketball, weighting down her hip bones and drawing her back. God, she needed this after that tool. She just needed a distraction, a beautiful inspiration.

She wasn't unwilling, as she leaned back, undiscriminating against marble abs. Ashlynn let him move her freely, feeling his wandering hand travel across her stomach, his breath heating her neck. When his hand made the full breadth of her, he grabbed her waist and spun her back to face him. Her breath caught as she looked up into eyes that reminded her of evergreen forests, set in broad features with cheekbones that could fill the palm of her hand and a jutting chin covered in bristled shadow. It wasn't just his face though it was the way he looked at her; like she was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

Ashlynn reached up, wanting to ask his name, but the music pulsed her bones as they continued to move. Without words, his lips suddenly pressed against hers, promising and forceful. Damn, she wondered as she fell into those arms, even as he began to draw her out of the crowd. She never really stood a chance against that smile he gave her as he drew back. Stepping away from her, he held out a hand, with a grin that promised more on the other side. Glancing back to the crowd, she looked for Aimee, and watched her give her an encouraging nod. Grinning toothily, she turned back and grabbed his hand which completely enfolded her. It was reckless, but wasn't that the meaning of rebound.

Drawing her out a side door, she pressed against him against, forcing her mouth against his again and his tongue slipped in with hers, he had her running so hot she almost fell apart right there. "Not here," he said, between tight breaths that sounded as needy as she felt. If he was as good in bed as he was with that mouth, she could really get used to that soft growl in his voice.

"Where's your place," she murmured into his ear, breathlessly.

She felt him stiffen and her body was rejecting any semblance of control. If he had let her, she would have had her legs wrapped around her, with him buried inside her at punishing force against the wall, the brick leaving scratches and bruises. He grinned and drew her in the direction of the street, but instead of a car there was a line of monstrous men, blocking there way. Instinctively, she felt herself slip behind her new companion, he released her hand.

"Stay close," he said, and she nodded still contentedly dazed.

Then men as built as the man she was shadowing, slunk through the same door she'd just exited. Growls that made her sick with fear resonated from their chests and as they stalked forwards she moved further back.

No one was really watching her, and she began to worry, pulling her phone out of her bag. Before she could dial 911, the sound of tearing fabric captured her attention. Fur thick as a bear's sprouted out of skin as body warped, muscle growing thicker, stronger. She watched horrified as the man who she had almost taken home, grew thick russet fur.

"Well Blaise, did we catch you with your pants down?" One of the men asked.

The wolf growled, and fear traveled like a shiver down her spine. This was too much, she whimpered mentally. Without even thinking, she took off down the alley running for dear life.

"Oh look wolf, your girl is running. Guess you two really aren't that close. Too bad, she looked quite delicious," said one of the well-dressed men. She didn't bother to stick around to hear their conversation.

She'd run until she found a cab. Rushing home, she felt safe as she bolted the door behind her. Her heart was thundering in her ears as her chest heaved. "What the hell was that?" she said shaking. For a long moment she wished Ryan was still there.

Then her attention was stolen away. "Darling, don't worry the nightmare is almost over. Well for you anyway," offered a smooth voice with an accent she couldn't quite identify.

Attempting to loose a scream, her eyes were filled with fear as a hand covered her mouth before she could make a sound. "Oh no, that wouldn't do."

Gripping his arm with both hands she tried to push back, but he wasn't even trying, as he held fast with one hand to lips and one to the back of her head. "You fight this, and it won't end well, love. Just accept your fate," he sighed and despite her panic, she was captivated by him. Mesmerizing plump lips, sharp Italian features, and coal eyes that promised pain. A pretty black silk shirt made him seem refined, and he wasn't heavily built, but every instinct in her read deep trouble. She went still, impossibly so considering the blood throbbing through her temples. "You really are a pretty thing. Pity."

Fear wrestled through her, but even when he took his hand off her mouth, she couldn't seem to move. The most she could manage was a tear. She felt exposed and used under that gaze.

Powerless, she didn't have long to wait before the first blow came and struck her square in the stomach with the speed and strength of a speeding car. She toppled forward wrenching blood. Pain had her seeing dark clouds. Barely recovering, arms like tree trunks grabbed her arms and sent her flying into a wall with a loud crash. She could hear things cracking, but the brick wall was just fine as she slid wetly to the floor.

"Do you feel that sweet pain, love? Those damn dogs just don't learn, and their little toys suffer. Tell me what does that kind of pain feel like?" he said, his word making little sense in the haze. She could still see the red lust in those dark eyes.

Ashlynn could barely gurgle, everything hurt. Her eyelids were heavy, her body was screaming and threatening to black out.

"Yes, love. That's it. Give into the pain," he whispered, suddenly so close she could feel the chill of his breath on her ear, it was almost soothing and everything just felt so cold.

As the world went black, sound just beyond her strength to comprehend resounded in the background. There was no hope, no warmth, no joy, just ice. Whatever was coming next, she didn't want to be awake to feel it. Ashlynn never wanted to feel again.