Not a soul in the crowded stadium is moving from their position in the least. No one is coming to help her. It’s only me. The only humans even remotely close to us are Mr. Horga, who’s on the grass where I was just standing moments ago, an expression of complete shock etched on his face, and Miss Redhead. She’s huddled in a ball on the side of the stage where she’s been allowed to go and venture off. Everyone is silent from both terror and surprise while Lizzie is shrieking and crying, held tightly to the mammoth shifter’s chest. Her fists beat against him, not doing any good, but the werewolf allows it, making no move to stop her. It’s useless and he lets her waste her strength.
After repeating his command, I’m slowly released by the beast of a man holding me. I nod and the tears that had gathered in the corners of my eyes slowly trickle down my face while quiet sobs rock my body. Not Lizzie. Not my best friend. They can’t take her. The realization finally hits me as I’m lowered. They’re taking Lizzie. As soon as my stilettos touch the ground, I dart over to her, the trance broken. I wrap my arms around the part of her torso I’m able to reach, the part not restrained.
It’s surreal. I would give anything in the world to deny that this is happening. That it’s only a nightmare. The glare behind me sinks deep into my back and I remember his wish: calm her down.
“Lizzie!” I have to shout at the top of my lungs for her to hear me. When she doesn’t respond, I yell her name again. It doesn’t stop the wretchedness that wreaks havoc inside of me.
“Lizzie!” She stops shrieking for a moment and looks at me with frightened, glossy eyes as she grabs me with the half embrace that she can manage, yet with such force that I’m surprised I don’t fall over. As soon as she’s quiet, stifling her sobs in the crook of my neck, the shifter holding her gently places her feet on the ground. She nearly collapses as her spiked black heels scrabble to find purchase on the stage. I’m vaguely aware that the people watching us are a mix of emotions. Some are crying, while others have started screaming. But all I can really focus on are Lizzie’s whimpers.
A force flows through me; I need to try and say something to calm her. It’s like a wave, but I stop it. My body stiffens as I feel the werewolf from earlier approach me from behind. His hand comes down and lands on my shoulder. At first he squeezes firmly, causing me to go rigid, but then his hold loosens and his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles against my nape. I blink away the haze of fear and confusion to look up past Lizzie, who still has her head buried in the crook of my neck. She hasn’t stopped crying hysterically.
“It’s okay,” I say. The words rush out of me even though I know it’s a lie. My breath is warm in the air between us and my heart pounds in my chest so hard I can hardly hear myself.
I hold her tighter when I see the face of the werewolf behind her. He’s staring at me with darkness in his eyes, like I’ve stolen his prey. I suppose that’s exactly what I’ve done. His chiseled jaw is covered with dark brown stubble and his narrowed eyes are silver, but beyond that he looks human. He would look utterly breathtaking if he could turn his scowl into something less menacing. At his stern expression I take a step back, survival instincts warning me to take flight, but I’m prevented from escaping by the shifter holding me tight from behind. We’re trapped. Lizzie looks up at me when I flinch at the thought. My eyes dart from hers to the silver stare of the wolf behind her. My body goes rigid as two hands grip my hips to steady me.
“Follow him and bring her with you,” the dominating man behind me whispers and again I feel his hot breath tickle my neck as his lips brush against my ear. He releases me without another word and I try to walk while supporting the bulk of Lizzie’s weight. We stumble and I almost fall, but the strong hands behind me reach out to steady us before forcing me forward. My chest heaves and my body shakes when I realize I’m going to lose Lizzie forever. They’re using me to calm her down and lead her to some unknown fate.
“No,” I whisper in defiance. “You can’t take her.” I try to protest, but the hand is strong and then something else, something I’m not able to fight, grips ahold of me.