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The night whispers around us as if the forest itself is acknowledging this sacred moment. My heart, once a lone wolf's, now beats for two.
2
Emma
My eyelids flutter open, revealing a world bathed in shadows and dim, amber light. Pain throbs in my leg, a stark reminder of the trap that got me.
“Fucking poachers,” I groan.
They have no respect for nature, no respect for the forest. My anger is cut short as I blink, taking in more of my surroundings.
I'm lying on a soft, unfamiliar bed in a rustic cabin, the walls adorned with relics of the forest. Antlers serve as a makeshift chandelier above me, while various dried herbs and flowers hang from the wooden beams, casting subtle scents into the air. Oh shit.
My heart races as I try to piece together the fragments of my memory—the deep woods, the sharp snap of the trap, unbelievable pain, and then…darkness.
With cautious movements, I sit up.
As I move, a sharp jolt of pain shoots through my leg, causing me to wince and gasp. The sensation is raw and piercing, like a hot wire against my skin. A hiss of pain falls off my lips and I grab my leg, but it’s not bloodied skin I grab.
Confused, I glance down and am surprised to see my leg neatly bandaged, the fabric of my pants carefully rolled up to accommodate the dressing.
Someone had dressed my wound. I glance around, taking in more of my surroundings.
The cabin is small but cozy, filled with handmade furniture and a fireplace that crackles softly, combatting the gentle patter of rain.
My eye is instantly drawn to the potted plants, well-tended and thriving. A shelf holds books on flora and fauna, and in the corner stands a large, hand-carved desk, scattered with maps of the forest.
This does not seem like a poacher’s cabin.
As my gaze wanders, the front door creaks open, and a man enters.
Tall, with an imposing presence, he carries an air of rugged wilderness about him. However, his height isn’t what draws my attention. No– it’s the fact that he’s ringing out a wet shirt, leaving his torso bare.
What a torso it is too. Muscular in a way that comes from constant activity, littered with golden hair all over it, and big strong arms to match.
My gaze goes higher, taking in his strong jaw, his face. He’s older than me, and nothing like the boys I've dated in the past. No, this is a man. A man who is shirtless and who…dressed my wound?
His deep-set eyes meet mine, and a jolt of something inexplicable passes between us. Fear shoots through me.
"Hello. I'm Aiden," he says, his voice a deep rumble.
I’m silent, staring with wide eyes at this wild man before me.
"And what's your name?" he asks, his gaze holding mine.
Are his eyes gold? It must be the light…
"Emma." My voice barely reaches a whisper.
"Emma," he repeats softly, slowly.
The sound of my name in his deep, resonant voice sends an unexpected tingle through me, going straight to my core.
To distract from the sensation and gather my thoughts, I ask, "What am I doing here?"
Aiden's gaze doesn't waver as he answers. "I found you in the woods, injured. It wasn't safe to leave you there," he says, his voice steady and reassuring.
"But why bring me here?" I study his expression for any hidden clues.
