Chapter 7

• “Give me your purse,” the wolfman commanded on the next morning.
• Monica was surprised to see there was no food on the table. She was getting used to him cooking all the time. It was nice to feel spoiled at least once in a while. Although, could this be considered spoiling? They were almost strangers, and she was something like a prisoner.
• “Excuse me?” She stared, her lips tugging down.
• “There is no more food left. I need to go to the closest store and get some,” he explained with a dissatisfied look on his face.
• “And you think you're going alone?! You've got the wrong person here if you think that is going to happen!” Monica scurried to the dresser next to the door and grabbed her bag.
• A. grunted.
• “It would be safer and much easier for me to go alone.” He grimaced as if tired of talking.
• “Do you hate company that much? Or talking, for that matter?” She shot him a dirty look. He r entire being didn't want to let him go alone. It was unexplainable, unreasonable, and stupid, but it was the way she felt. She didn't consider escaping an option anymore. A small spark of... of affection had started building in her stomach, and while she hated to admit it ever existed, she felt addicted to it.
• To... this grumpy-ass werewolf.
• “I hate humans,” he said. His eyes were blank with honesty.
• This, for once, left her speechless. He wasn't lying.
• “Why?” Monica whispered, putting her hair behind her ear. She hated it when she couldn't tie it up. It was always getting in her face, annoying her with its length. But, honestly, no matter how long or short it was, it was always in her way if it wasn't in a ponytail or a bun.
• A. stiffened, and his hands balled. Tension filled the room, but it shifted as his eyes widened, and he looked at the door.
• “Your friend is here,” he said. “Behave.”
• “Huh?” Monica grimaced, not understanding, but a knock on the door made her turn around and open it.
• “Connor!” she gasped when she saw her brown-haired friend standing in front of her.
• “I brought fruits.” He smiled and pushed past her inside.
• His merry face contorted into a frown when he saw the person standing next to the couch.
• “Who's that?” Connor half-turned to Monica with a suspicious look on his face.
• “He... he's my friend. You just haven't met him.” She smiled, feeling like her lips were going to fall apart. It hurt to smile in this situation.
• Connor looked at A. and pursed his lips. He was so transparent that she could read his thoughts. This huge, intimidating man couldn't possibly be her friend! Not to mention the beard! Monica liked good boys, not such... savages.
• She held back a groan, knowing things were about to go boom.
• Connor grimaced but headed to him and extended his arm for a greeting.
• “Nice to meet you! I'm Connor!”
• A. stared at him without moving.
• “A.,” he simply said, and Connor twisted his head in Monica's direction. His face screamed, what the fuck.
• “A. doesn't like using his whole name. He doesn't like it.” She chuckled and grabbed the bag from Connor's hand.
• When he tried to get it back, another hand took it first and headed to the table. A. put the bag on the table and stared at Monica, hinting at her to distract her friend. Connor just stared with a sour expression on his face.
• “Where did you find this guy?!” he quietly hissed when they sat on the couch. “Is he homeless? Or a druggy? He's way too suspicious.”
• “Shut up, Connor!” Monica scolded, knowing very well A. could hear them. She couldn't risk her friend's life. But sometimes he was just so annoying!
• Her memories flashed back to a night two years ago she had drunk a bit too much and the innocent, naïve Connor had spent a night with her. Since then, he had a not-too-secret crush on her, and she hated that. She hated seeing him waste himself on her. He always neglected his girlfriend, April, just to be with her. It was wrong, and she regretted that night with her whole being.
• “Don't talk like that about him! He's my friend and is currently helping me take care of the house! A.'s a good person and you will respect that!” she grumbled and leaned back on the couch, glowering at Connor.
• “I just don't trust him, Mon! Look at him! How long hasn't he shaved? Did he appear from a cave or something?”
• The noise of the plate with sliced fruits sliding in front of Connor made him halt and he looked at A.. A. glared at him and sat on the armchair next to him. He started playing with his beard in a bored manner, and Connor shivered.
• “You know, I can put small scissors in my beard and stab someone that's annoying me. Usually, those who get on my nerves don't last long. Do you want to last long?” He smirked and leaned forward on his knees.
• “Are you threatening me?” Connor gawked at him, incredulous.
• “Are you getting on my nerves?” A. lowly said.
• “Monica!” Connor whirled his head to her, and she stood up.
• “Come on, that's enough! Connor, go home!” She pointed at the door. Her belly was trembling with irritation, worry, and soon-to-explode anger. Connor was always like this. All possessive, annoying, butting his head in everything she did. “Why did you come here?! To cause trouble?!”
• “No, Mon, I—” He also stood up, trying to explain.
• “Come on, go home. You know I don't like uninvited guests!” she chided and pulled her lips down. She didn't want it to come to this, but he knew her well enough to know how she reacted when he showed up at her house out of nowhere.
• He tensed. She struck a nerve. She had a talent for doing that. Guilt exploded in her instead of the anger that had gathered there, and she stiffened.
• “Fine. But if something happens, don't call me.” Connor gave her a sharp look and headed to the door, slamming it shut behind his back.
• Everything remained silent for a few minutes. Did she really push her best friend away? Just because she was afraid to face his feelings?
• “Let's go for groceries.” A. approached her and, giving her another pitiful look, and opened the door.
• ...
• Standing next to the vegetable stand, Monica stared into the nothing. Did she just lose her best friend?
• “If you apologize to him, he'll come running.” A. stopped next to her, grabbing a few apples. “I've already seen how these scenarios play out.”
• His words got her out of her trance.
• “You've seen that?” She scrunched her brows. Her goal was getting back in line. To find out more. “Where?”
• “Doesn't matter,” he said without glancing at her. He walked towards the vegetables, his eyes zeroed in on the cucumbers.
• Monica huffed and pulled his arm to make him turn to her.
• “If I'm asking, then it matters.” She pursed her lips. Her bad mood was making her even more hotheaded, but that was the charm of it. She couldn't and didn't want to stop it.
• A. hummed with a small genuine smile on his face. It was the first he was showing her ever since she found him. It made her breath hitch. Her whole body started burning, and she slightly trembled.
• “You shouldn't care.” He changed his demeanor and started pushing the cart away.
• Monica paid for everything, with her wallet crying, and they exited the store. A. stopped walking, and his eyes narrowed.
• “Shit,” he muttered under his breath and started pushing the cart to the car.
• He tossed the keys to Monica. “Quickly! Unlock the car and get in!”
• The sky became dark again, signaling there was another storm on its way. Suddenly, Monica realized they were all alone in the parking lot, and all the other cars and people were gone. She ran to her hatchback and unlocked it, glancing back at A.. He was sprinting to her with the cart. Alarm bells echoed around her like a song. If he was worried, then there was a good reason. Her skin prickled.
• A. gave her a sign to enter the car, and she climbed inside. Her heart was drumming in worry. Had he sensed other werewolves?
• A big wolf jumped out of the nearby bushes and attacked A.. Monica shrieked. He protected himself with his forearm, hitting the werewolf in the head with his other hand, and threw him away. Another one showed up and jumped at his neck, trying to bite it. A. bent forward and whirled around to avoid the blow. He stared at the two beasts, taking careful steps back, but when a third appeared, he dashed to the car.
• The three werewolves were trying to gnarl at him, snapping their jaws at his body, legs, and arms, but A. skillfully avoided most of the blows and got out of them with only scratches. When a fourth beast appeared in front of him, he halted. He was surrounded. Why wasn't he turning into one of them? Why wasn't he shifting into his werewolf body?
• “Shift!” Monica shouted, and all of the wolves snapped their heads to her.
• A. seized this opportunity and, getting a knife out of his pocket, cut the throat of one of them and stabbed the back of the second one. He jumped over the third, pushing it to fall on the ground, and reached the car. Opening the driver's door, he slammed it back into the fourth beast and entered the vehicle.
• He sped out of the parking lot, avoiding a few incoming cars. Monica screamed, her face pale and scared, and tightly held onto the seat belt.