Chapter 2 Midnight Visitor

• POV: Echo
• Slow, steady footsteps on the basement stairs jar me from my sleep. My bed, if you can even call it that, is nothing more than a thin foam mattress on the damp basement floor. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I flip onto my back, focusing on slowing my racing heart.
• Reminding myself that there is no way it can be him, it’s absolutely not possible. He is away for meetings in another pack and isn’t due back for another couple of days.
• My eyes dart to the long, narrow window above the laundry machines. The half-moon shining high in the sky tells me it is nowhere near morning yet. I turned my head and looked toward the door; the steps still coming down.
• I quickly glance around the basement, and even though it’s too dark to actually see anything, I have the layout of the room committed to memory from long hours spent down here. Industrial-sized washers and dryers, the massive laundry folding table, multiple shelves filled with folded clothes and linen, varying sorted dirty piles, and baskets of folded laundry.
• Although I already know there is nowhere to hide down here, I can’t help looking for one every time. Unless I count my measly bathroom, which I don’t, it’s carefully laid out, so that there is nowhere for me to go.
• However, I do seriously debate hiding in the galvanized steel trough that they call my bathtub, but it’s quickly vetoed when the panic of being held underwater until I pass out floods over me. That idea backfired horribly the last time I tried it, and I had no desire to repeat the near drowning.
• I froze when I heard the footsteps stop just outside the basement door. The sound of the door being unlocked, and the doorknob turning, shattering the abrupt silence, and snapping me back to the matter at hand. Sucking in a deep breath, I force my body to remember how to breathe, desperately wishing I could just disappear.
• ‘Please be someone looking for clean sheets… Please don’t be him, please don’t be him.’ I mentally chanted while listening to the door slowly swing open, as though whoever opened it was in no hurry to enter the room.
• My body reacts immediately, trembling like a leaf the moment his scent drifts across the room. The mix of cedar and vanilla filled me with a nauseating dread. He is back far too early for it to be for good reasons.
• Listening as he stepped into the room, I noticed right away that he was now light on his feet. Firmly shutting the door, he locks it with his personal key, one no one else has a copy of. I know no one will interrupt whatever he has planned for tonight. Straining my ears, I continue to listen for his movements but can hear nothing after he puts the key back in his pocket.
• This is what he enjoys, prowling in the dark while leaving me trembling in my bed, waiting for his wrath. Not able to stand it anymore, I raised my head and squinted through the dark, silent basement, needing to know where he was. I shivered, still fully clothed, so tired I hadn’t even pulled my thin blanket over myself before falling asleep.
• Sitting up fully, I strained my eyes and ears, scanning the surrounding darkness, trying desperately to locate him in the dark. I scoot back on my mattress until my back presses against the icy wall, grounding myself to keep the panic at bay. Taking several deep breaths, I try to figure out a plan of action.
• The only thing I can think about doing is getting to my flashlight so that I’ll be able to see where he is. Being a werewolf, I shouldn’t even need the help of a flashlight to see in the dark, but my heightened senses have been weak at best, and almost non-existent at worst. Currently, I’d say my sight is probably worse than a human’s with how long I’ve gone without food now.
• Stretching my hand to the right, I feel for the shelf that holds everything I own in this world. A couple of faded t-shirts, and even more worn-out leggings. Socks with holes, stretched-out bras, and panties. Several ponytails, a hairbrush that’s missing more bristles than it has, a toothbrush that’s well past its prime.
• Skimming across my belongings with my fingertips, I search for the spot where I tucked the forbidden object away for safekeeping. I hesitate when I find it, knowing that using it now will, without a doubt, cost me dearly. The aura of unbridled rage that came rippling across the room like a suffocating wave made the choice for me, as it slammed into me with breathtaking force. His meeting did not end well, and I must have been his first stop after returning to the pack. Unable to wait in suspense anymore, I slipped the flashlight out of its hiding place.
• Breathless and on the verge of complete and utter panic, I snatched the flashlight from the shelf and clutched it to my chest. Flicking it on, I blinked in the sudden harsh light. As soon as my eyes adjust, I scan the room for the wolf that is stalking through the dark.
• Sweeping the light in a wide arc around the room to the left, I saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. If it wasn’t for his scent burning my nostrils, I would truly believe I had dreamed of his arrival. Continuing past the door, I sweep over the shelves full of clean sheets, moving toward the bathroom, where I finally find him. Leaning against my bathroom doorframe, only a couple of feet away from me, his eyes fixed on me in a deadly glare.
• He grins menacingly as the scent of my terror permeates the air around us. It feels as though all the air has been sucked from my lungs; the light bouncing violently in my shaking hands as I desperately try to think of a way out. Coming up empty, I merely stared at him, frozen by the panic flowing through every part of my body, waiting for him to make the first move.
• “You shouldn’t have that now, should you?” His voice is quiet, some would say charming even. But I know better. I can hear the untold threat of his words. I know what it means to have something in my possession that I’m not supposed to have. Know what the consequences will be.
• Jerking my head from side to side, I blink away my tears before they can fall. He’s there instantly, jerking me into the air, with my feet dangling, struggling to breathe as he lifts me by the throat.
• My flashlight shatters as it skitters across the floor, thrusting us into darkness. Unable to see or breathe, I lose all reservations about my actions and I grip his hand with both of mine, thrashing around, trying to break free of his grip.
• “Oh, Echo, the scent of your fear is delicious!” he growls, yanking my body closer. He moves forward quickly, slamming me into the wall behind us and pinning my body with his. Loosening his grip on my throat, just enough to allow me to breathe again, he runs his nose along my collarbone, stopping where my neck meets my shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he scents me, purring at the smell of my panic.
• Gasping, I clasped the hand around my throat tightly, allowing my mind to go blank as I tried to think about something else. I have a well-built safe place designed for nights like tonight, letting me numb my mind to the pain of the violence he was about to inflict on my body.
• His free hand skims its way under my shirt, icy chills sending shock waves of disgust throughout my body everywhere he touches. I focus on letting go of it all, but am interrupted before I can, as he sensed I was not mentally present. He drags a claw across my ribs, drawing me back to reality abruptly and forcing me to be a part of this twisted game he likes to play.
• Unable to hide in my safe place, my body reacts instinctively. My hands released the hand around my throat, one grabbing and halting the wandering hand under my shirt, and the other pulling back and slapping him as hard as I could. My shocked apologies are cut off as he tightens his grip around my throat, drawing his hand from under my shirt. He wipes the tears from my eyes as bright white spots dance across my sight. Kicking my legs feebly, I cannot loosen his deadly grip.
• “I am going to have some fun tonight.” He breathes, running his nose along my jaw, nipping sharply at my ear. I shudder, a whimper caught in my throat as the lack of oxygen plunges me headfirst into nothingness.