"And what exactly are you doing here? How did you find my place?" Daniel's voice was sharp, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the girl standing in his living room. He couldn't believe she was actually here. He'd left her down the street, fuming at her angry boyfriend, certain she wouldn't follow him home. But here she was, in his house, and something felt wrong. A chill ran down his spine, a prickle of unease that whispered of danger. He was sure this wasn't just a coincidence. This girl, she was a trap, a carefully laid plan to ensnare him.
He had to be careful. His mission in this town was paramount, a destiny woven into his very being. He was the heir to a long line of protectors, the hope of the city resting on his shoulders. His ancestors, the guardians of the ancient prophecy, watched over him, demanding his success. And failure was not an option. He had to stop whatever, or whoever, was trying to derail his purpose.
His gaze, sharp and wary, swept over the girl. Was she alone? Were others lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce? His instincts screamed at him to be vigilant, to trust no one.
"I'm so sorry about what I said earlier," she began, her voice soft and apologetic. "I just wanted to thank you. I was forced to say those things, I swear. If I hadn't intervened, something terrible might have happened to me. I'm so glad you came to my rescue. Thank you."
Daniel studied her face, searching for any hint of deception. There was a sincerity in her eyes, a genuine gratitude that was almost disarming. She was thanking him for his actions, something no one else had ever done. She was different. But could he trust her? Could he believe her? His wolf, ever watchful, growled deep within him, a warning that something wasn't right. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. Not yet.
The fact that she had chosen this late hour to express her gratitude only fueled his suspicions. Something was amiss, and the clock ticking past midnight didn't help.
"Alright, thanks," Daniel said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I'm glad you've come to your senses and haven't let your boyfriend turn you into a puppet. And thanks for mocking me out there!" His eyes narrowed, focused on her hand, which seemed to be clutching something beneath her shirt. She kept her hand there, refusing to let go.
He knew she was hiding something. It made him wary, hesitant to get any closer. He wouldn't let her approach him either. Social distancing was the only safe option right now. He didn't even want to ask what she was hiding. It was a trap, a calculated move. If they wanted to harm him, they wouldn't have her hide it in such an obvious place. They'd know he'd notice. This was all part of their plan. He was smarter than that.
"No, it..." she began, taking a step forward. But Daniel raised a hand, a silent command for her to stop. She obeyed, backing away as he wished. He watched as she took a deep breath, tears welling in her eyes. She was fighting to hold them back, and it was almost heartbreaking. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but he couldn't. He knew they were trying to play on his emotions, using his empathy against him. They knew he hated to see people cry, to see them hurt. But he wouldn't let them exploit that. Not this time. It was midnight, and he was alone with them. If they killed him, no one would suspect a thing. They'd say he'd committed suicide, and everyone would believe it.
"I... I just wanted to let you know that I'm so sorry about the way I responded back there. I know I was foolish. I was trapped, I wasn't really saying those things from my own mind. If I hadn't said them, something terrible would have happened to me. I was so scared, because it involves my family too." Her voice trembled, and Daniel felt a pang of sympathy. He wanted to ask her what was going on, what she was so afraid of.
"So what exactly is it?" he asked, his voice softer than he intended.
"I'm sorry, I can't tell you. But I really need your help. I've seen what you can do, you're the only one who can stand up to them. You're the only one who can help me, please." Her eyes were filled with tears, her face pleading. She was desperate, and he could see it in her eyes. But if she was in real danger, why wouldn't she tell him what was going on? Why was she asking for his help without explaining the problem? It felt like a trap.
"Really? You want me to help you, but you won't tell me what the problem is? How am I supposed to help you like that? It's late, and I think you should go home. I appreciate you thanking me for what I did, but you need to leave. And never come to my house this late again!" Daniel's voice was sharp, his anger rising. He turned to walk away, wanting nothing more than to get away from her.
"I'm bleeding!" she cried out, her voice sharp with panic. He froze, his hand on the doorknob, unable to ignore her words. She was bleeding? From what? He couldn't be so heartless as to leave her. He turned back, his gaze meeting hers. She was removing her hand from her stomach, revealing a wound that looked like a stab. Daniel's heart pounded in his chest. He was terrified. Was she really stabbed?
"Please help me! I can't go back there. If you could let me stay just this night..." she whispered, her voice weak. Daniel rushed to her side, his worry growing with every passing second. He had to help her. He couldn't just leave her to die.
"You're already losing so much blood. How were you able to cover it with your hand? What happened? Were you stabbed? If you were, you need to go to the hospital," Daniel said, his voice tight with worry. If she was truly stabbed, he couldn't let her die here. People would think he'd done it. Or maybe this was all part of their plan. They wanted to make people hate him, to frame him for her death. They'd arrest him, claim he'd killed her. He had to be careful. But that didn't change the fact that she was human, and she needed help.
"No, no, no. I wasn't stabbed. It was an injury from my boyfriend. He got really aggressive tonight, and I had to run away from home," she explained, her voice shaky.
Daniel was torn. She seemed genuine, but he was still afraid. He couldn't risk her dying in his apartment. He had to get her to the hospital, but he couldn't escort her. He didn't know if they were waiting for him, watching his every move. He had to protect himself.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry, but I don't think there's anything I can do. This is a medical emergency. You have to go to the hospital. You can't stay here. I'm sorry, you need to leave now," he said, his voice firm. The girl was shocked. She thought he was supposed to be her savior. Now, when she needed him most, he was sending her away? It wasn't safe for her to be out on the streets alone.
"I thought you always wanted to help people. Please, you can't send me out there! Please, just for this night," she begged, her voice filled with desperation.
"I'm sorry, you can't stay," he said, his voice unwavering. He knew he was being cruel, but he had to protect himself. He had to get her out of his house, away from him. He couldn't risk his own life, his own mission, for her. He had to be strong, he had to be ruthless when needed. It was the only way to survive.