Chapter 4

• Monica rolled in the bed, waiting for the clock to strike four and any sound she could catch from the other occupied room to disappear. She couldn't blink, and fear kept her with her eyes wide open. Her patience was running thin, so when she thought the Beast was finally asleep, she jumped out of bed and tiptoed to the door. She'd kept it cracked open, so she peeked out of it and held her breath. Now, only if she could fly through the air and get to the front door.
• Her hands balled, and she continued further, as quiet as a soldier or a lurking sickness. The dreams of getting famous and respected in her field were at stake, and Monica was probably going to lose them. Pain spread in her chest, and she bit her lip. As long as she remained alive and lost this creepy man off her back, she was going to be okay.
• Monica mentally cheered herself when she reached the stairs and glanced back. Her hearing strained. There was no other noise than the beating of her heart and her quiet breathing. She lifted her foot and took the first step. Then the second, then the third.
• The wildness of her heart raised, and she tried to calm it down. She couldn't risk Beast hearing it. Reaching the last step, Monica glanced at the front door, and the key hanging from the hole shone in her eyes. Energy filled her, and the thought she was almost in front of her target revved up her brain and pulled her forward. She walked to the key, grabbed it, and turned it over in the lock. A terrifying chill rushed up her spine, and she glanced at the stairs. They were empty.
• Monica swiftly opened the door and dashed out of it.
• Freedom! She wanted to scream, but her desire to survive made her stop, and she sprinted in the mud. The rain was still lashing out in the night, and huge drops soaked her clothes and red hair. But she was running! She was escaping to her safe haven!
• Monica exhaled through her nostrils, confirming the plan in her mind. When she reached Ms. Carrera's house, she would grab her, push her into her car, and drive them to the city. And then... then she was going to call the police and say she had escaped from a man who had tried to kidnap her. She wasn't going to say he was a werewolf. Nobody would believe her.
• If he let them know himself and screwed himself over, then they were going to find out. If not, the grumpy blond man was going to spend some time in prison and get tossed around like a dirty puppy. If Monica had ever had a moment she thought she didn't like her life, well, this only made her appreciate it more. Nothing compared to safety and peace. She'd complained to Connor there was nothing to watch on TV, well, now she was going to be happy, even if she had to watch the news.
• She wondered if she took a blood sample from the werewolf what would happen. Would his blood be any different from an ordinary human? Would anyone believe her if she showed it to them and told them the truth?
• Monica shook her head and snorted. First things first. She had to find safety and then consider her options.
• Just as she reached the trees on the side of her house, a big shadow passed in front of her eyes and caused her to yelp and fall in the dirt. Coldness seeped into her bones. The mud nearly reached her ears.
• Did she just see things? Monica couldn't hear anything else besides the rain and thunders. The shadow was gone. She frowned. There were other creatures in the forest, and they were as lethal as the werewolf, but maybe she stood a bigger chance of escaping them. The wolfman's strength of a supernatural creature and his human intellect made him invisible.
• She clenched her hands, preparing to fight if she had to. Please, let this be a squirrel, she begged. A squirrel bigger than a human, but whatever. She sprinted, and her skin prickled when the wind brought a distant growl in her ear. He is here! Her life passed in front of her eyes as her heart raced time and sought her safety.
• The hysteria and dread wrapped around her like poison, and she slipped, scratching her entire left leg on the root of a tree. She tumbled on the ground, hit her arm, and rolled over to land on her butt.
• “Fuck me!” she swore under her nose, clutching her arm close to her chest. Judging by the pain, the possibility her arm was broken was huge.
• “Do you think someone would do it when you're so stupid?” A male voice made her look up, and Monica saw Beast standing in front of her, with his jeans on. So what, the shadow she saw was just a trick of her mind? Or did he shift so quickly?
• Beast kneeled in front of her, and his eyes traveled around her wounds. Monica put her hand over the blood on her leg, hoping that smelling and seeing it wouldn't trigger him somehow. The werewolf sighed and stepped closer. He snaked his arms around her and effortlessly lifted her. Monica yelled and started fighting.
• A small growl escaped his lips, and she froze.
• “Why would you even try to escape from a werewolf? Haven't you done your research? I can hear everything around me, even in my sleep,” he spat.
• Monica grunted and grimaced. Her sassy side wasn't satisfied she was being insulted again.
• “Maybe I'm just braver than you think?”
• He looked at her, and her sassiness jumped into the river. “Brave enough to break your arm?”
• She swallowed and glanced at it and the small bump that had appeared on her skin. Great work, Monica.
• “I need a doctor,” she mumbled, stopping herself from swearing again, and formed another plan. If she got him to take her to the hospital, she could find help there.
• A quiet exhale was his only answer.
• ...
• After Beast let her soak in the shower, Monica gently sneaked her arm through the towel and sighed. A knock on the door startled her.
• “Get out,” his gruff voice rumbled through the wood, and limping, Monica exited the bathroom.
• When she entered the hall, she saw Beast had found one of her hair ties and had tied his blond hair with it. There were some locks falling out of it, but otherwise, his face looked cleaner and more open without all the hair sticking to it.
• The werewolf jerked his head to her bedroom, and gritting her teeth, Monica headed to it. He made her sit on her bed, and she noticed he had taken her medical kit from under her bed. When he opened it, she gasped.
• “I need a doctor,” she repeated, and her cheeks warmed in anger. This wasn't going to work out. It wasn't going according to the way she thought.
• “That's what you're getting!” Beast snapped, and she gulped. Her anger disappeared at the strength of his voice.
• She stiffened and watched him work on her. Her brows ticked. He really knew what he was doing. He was wrapping her arm in a bandage, careful not to inflict her more pain.
• “I am a professional veterinarian, and I saved your life, and that's what I get?” she grumbled. Why was her life getting turned upside down so drastically?
• “And who said I wasn't?” Beast barked and gave her a pointed look.
• “Well—”
• “Just because I'm a werewolf, you think I'm a caveman and know nothing? You're quite narrow-minded,” he commented.
• Monica pulled her arm away, stubbornly ignoring the pain.
• “Maybe it's because I know nothing about you, your kind, your past or even your name!” She scoffed. He didn't get to judge her when he was a closed book himself.
• “You don't need to. I'll stay here for a month at most, and after that, I'll disappear from your life as if I've never even been here!” he said, not even looking at her. He took her arm and continued bandaging it.
• “If you say so...” Monica narrowed her eyes, keeping them stuck on his face. Not knowing what took over her, she added, “Beast.”
• Beast lifted his gaze from her arm, and his brows furrowed just a tiny bit.
• “I am not a beast!” he grunted. “You know nothing about the beasts roaming around in the human world!” He stood up, and his nostrils flared. “Those treacherous, disgusting humans!” he yelled and waved with his hand, but when Monica flinched, afraid he'd hit her, he halted.
• “You saved my life,” Beast continued in a grim tone. “I owe it to you. I'd never hurt you, but stop calling me beast when you don't even know me.”
• “T-then what?” she stuttered and glanced up at him. Confusion was brewing a storm in her heart.
• “A.,” he murmured after a short pause. “That's enough. It's better if you don't know my name.” A. turned around, exiting the room.
• Monica let out a breath. A. What could A. equal to?