6. Straight Ticket to heaven.

Elena.

Is he kidding me? Of course, the name rings a huge bell!

My body froze as I stared at the man standing in front of me. I was so speechless, as I felt my body going numb.

No. It couldn’t be. My heart drummed in alarm as I stared into his unmoving, cold eyes.

Oh God. Please, no. It couldn’t be him. It should never be him.

My stomach twisted painfully and my vision blurred. I felt myself stumbling forward even while on the chair that I was at. Dread and horror filled me. I thought I ran away from dangerous men, but this man standing in front of me was more dangerous than any of them. He was feared by all. But most importantly, this man was the greatest enemy of my family.

The Ferrari Pack. From Alpha Alessandro, his father to him, Deangelo, the son. The cruelest set of werewolves ever.

The Amato pack and the Ferrari pack had been enemies for so many decades and their enmity ran deep.

I can not believe that I was standing in front of their Alpha, who would kill me mercilessly if he found out that I was an Amato. It made me so grateful that I had chosen chosen lie, that I had stood my ground too.

This was a straight ticket to heaven. Or hell.

I ran from a deadly man, and now I was awaiting my fate in front of another. A deadlier and more dangerous one. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. My body still shaking with silent tremors, I sat up straighter.

"From your reaction, I guess it does and that's not weird at all, I'm known quite well afterall, but then I'm curious as to what you know me as..." He said, sternly.

All I could do in this tense and fearful moment was to stare at his face. It was clenched tight, every little line, every taut muscle on display. He was anger personified with his ticking jaw and gritted teeth.

I was supposed to answer him, I knew that. But my tongue was suddenly swollen. I stare at the five o’clock shadow on his square, killer jaw. Tanned, enticing skin. Spiky, messy hair. Black eyes dripping with rage. And veins.

God, he has so many veins, running just under his skin. One of them goes down his taut neck. It bumps over his collarbone and then disappears beneath his muscled pecs. His chest was massive and the curves of it make a tight valley that then changes into the ridges of his abdomen. I go to count those ridges and I was pretty sure that he’s got a six-pack. Could be eight too.

"Cruel? A beast? Dangerous? Heartless? Uh... deadly? I'm called a lot of these, I like them though." He said again as he chuckled and I shrinked into the chair I was on even more. Then I stood up and moved back towards the wall instead, acting like I was escaping even though I knew that I wasn't getting anywhere.

He puts his right arm out and splays it wide on the wall behind me, then he leaned towards me, he then spoke in a raspy tone, “but I can make you call me something else though, daddy for instance."

The way he said whatever he said sent shivers down my spine as I instantly remembered the little display that had occurred between us, i could help but be focused on the way his lips moved and his tongue molded around the word and gave it a life.

A dangerous kind of life, and suddenly, I’m bombarded with all these ideas. Of what he can do to me. Swallowing, I look at the curl of his biceps. They are huge. He could crush me, if he wanted. He could wrap his large arms around me, restrain me with his body, cover me and hide me under him. And it would take days for someone to find me.

“Uh.” I cleared my throat, my eyes still stuck to his rippling muscles, as my lungs are running out of air. Like a puppet, I looked at his arm. My gaze hooked on to something that wasn’t there before. It was a tattoo, a sentence running along one side of his wrist: Forgiveness is a sin.

He looked down at it, and then up at me. I must look like a trapped animal, all wide eyes and panting breaths. A frisson of current flashes across his face as he noticed that the tattoo was what caught my attention.

I knew that I should be fearing for my life since I was literally in the lion's den but I could cross the attraction I felt either and I felt stupid about it.

'He might be handsome, but he was a monster.' I chanted mentally as if trying to drive something away.

It got worse when he moved even closer to me and I barely manage to not squeak. He was bringing his dangerous, half naked bulk even closer to me. Again.

“If you come any closer, I’m going to scream,” I warned him, surprised that I even found my own voice. Where was this voice whenever I needed it, it seemed to dissappear when I used it so much and it was always ignored by Salvatore and my father.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not joking. Please, stop doing this to me.” I said, swallowing my saliva.

He cocked his head to the side, still advancing toward me. “Scream. Scream for me." He said, as if daring me.

I stick my hand out, careful not to touch him. “C... c... can you please stop with the sexual innuendos? Please." I resorted to begging.

He stopped, coming to a sudden halt in his tracks. “What?”

He remained silent but watching. There was no expression on his face as whatever was on it before seemed to disappear. All I voild see was nothing but pure intensity, and I couldn't look at him anymore.

He was too close. Too large. Too naked. His smell and the heat of his skin surround me like two strong arms and I can’t break their hold. When I felt him leaning toward me, I snapped my eyes up at him. My heart was in my throat, ready to fly out of it as I realized that any second he might touch me. Again.

"Guys, untie her. She needs to have her bath." He said, still looking at me..

He then continued, "she stinks!"