Golden: A Paranormal Romance

by Ellis Marie

  He’s told Trent.

  “We need to get Kristie and Tom out of here,” she says quickly, her words grim as she glances around frantically. “They can’t see whatever is about it happen.”

  Lee’s friends split off from him and head towards the two people who are walking back to us. They’re laughing casually about something between them and completely unaware of the events that are about to unfold.

  Lee heads for us.

  “Why would you do that?” I whisper. “Why would you act like that?”

  I finally pull myself free of Cam as he goes to speak, but I turn away from him. I tear up as I look at Scarlette who’s shouting at Lee.

  “Elle asked you not to tell Trent, and what did you do?”

  “He was hurting her! Like I wasn’t about to tell my alpha when someone is threatening his luna.”

  Cam tries to grab my attention, but I feel almost numb, my worry so prominent that there’s a cold sweat taking over my skin.

  “Elle,” Cam tries, reaching for me again. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  My mind races through the endless possibilities of how this could go.

  “They’re here,” Scarlette announces, ducking under the net and running to me while turning to check how far away our unaware friends are. “Cole’s trying to calm him down, but I don’t think it’s—”

  The deafening sound of a car screeching to a halt shatters any hope that I have, the dark shadow of it contrasting to the still sunny beach that it parks on. Instantly, the doors on both sides swing open and two figures advance, one trying to talk to the other, but getting nowhere.

  Trent’s body is shaking like a volcano waiting to erupt. His expression seems to burn anything in the vicinity of it, causing Cole to back away and walk beside him in silence. Scarlette slides past me and runs to Trent, her arms open while trying to explain. Cole continues towards us, ignoring her.

  I can hear my blood rushing in my veins. The look that Cole shoots me is apologetic as he appears at my side, moving me out of the way as he grabs Cameron who proceeds to shout and resist. Lee steps forward and grabs the other side of his body.

  “Cole, what are you doing?”

  “Let go! Get off me!”

  The boys ignore our words as they twist his arms behind his back, forcing him to bend forward and his limbs to twist in an unnatural way. His yell of pain makes any words die in my throat.

  “Trent,” Scarlette tries while walking backwards, her fearful eyes glancing over to me more frequently the closer she gets. “Lee overreacted. He—”

  “You do not speak,” a voice that I don’t totally recognise hisses, the darkness behind it making my bones shake. “I will deal with you later. Now, move.”

  I don’t blame the poor girl for moving out of the way. Even without the added aspect of his position of power and her wolf’s automatic reaction to obey him, the fear that his words instill alone would be enough for any sane person to listen to.

  When she moves, I finally see his face.

  And it’s not Trent.

  It looks like Trent, but his eyes are dark and his mouth snarled into an image that can only be described as a predator ready to attack with his gaze unmoving from its prey. He doesn’t even glance at me, despite the fact that I’m standing in front of Cam. It’s like I’m not here. Scarlette grabs my arm and pulls me out of the way with a solemn expression on her face.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I whisper, watching as he stalks forward and towards the shaking boy who’s grunting in pain. “What’s happening?”

  “Elle, I’m sorry,” she says, defeated. “His wolf’s in control, there’s nothing we can do.”

  I hear the words she doesn’t say as his body towers over the shaking figure, a growl like sound echoing out to us.

  He’s going to kill him. Trent is going to kill Cam. It’s the only thought that keeps running through my head as I watch them force Cam to his feet. Alarmed, I look down to the trail that leads to the house, not knowing how to feel when I see that no one is there. It would be difficult to explain what is going on, but another human might stop him from losing full control.

  “There has to be something we can do,” I whisper, not really knowing if I’m talking to anyone but myself. “There has to be.”

  Trent’s body seems to grow as he steps up to Cam. His bare shoulders widen and his head tilts as he assesses the person before him, his teeth glinting. This isn’t the gentle boy who made me pumpkin pie and slept at my door to make sure I didn’t have nightmares. He’s unrecognisable.

  “Rogueee.” The word is dragged out, like a lion stretching in the sun, testing its legs before hunting. “Do you have zero respect for the law, or did you just want to die today?”

  My shallow breaths catch as I try to not shake with fear, watching the way the creature’s head rolls around slowly, taking its time with its show. Cam’s neck strains upwards as they force his chin forward, his eyes determined to not shrink away despite how disadvantaged he is.

  “F*ck. You.”

  The head stops moving and snaps upright. He growls so deep that as it emits from his body, it feels as though it shakes the ground beneath us.

  Don’t just stand there, do something.

  Scarlette pulls me back as I automatically go to stop the arm that flies out and wraps around Cam’s throat, cutting off any more of his words.

  “Death it seems would be your choice, then.”

  Do something, Elle.

  I look to the two boys on either side of Cam for help, but their heads are turned away from me. Their eyes are downcast as they cringe back from the raw power oozing out of their alpha. Lee seems to be too afraid to look up while Cole seems to be fighting with himself internally, but no one is going to do anything.

  I look to the girl holding me, her arms delicate but with an unyielding strength that comes from a place of protection.

  “You told me Trent would never hurt me,” I bargain, frantic to find some chance at stopping this. “You said he could never. This is going to hurt me!”

  “Trent couldn’t, Elle,” she cries, “But his wolf doesn’t think things through. It won’t even realise until it’s too late.” Scarlette’s words are apologetic and resigned, as though she’s seen this before and already knows how it’s going to end. Because it has happened before.

  “I’m glad we’re beside the water.” He chuckles sinisterly. “I’d hate to spill tainted blood on my land where it couldn’t be washed away.”

  “Trent,” I gulp, watching how his body doesn’t even react to my voice. “Trent.”

  “It’s no use,” Scarlette insists, trying to hold on, desperate for me to understand her words. “His wolf won’t listen to anyone. Not even Trent.”

  A deep horror seeps into my core as I see the fear behind her eyes—the truth.

  When she mentions how he used to act before I met him. How the younger boys cower at the thought of him being angry. His struggle to gain control that day with Carter. The look in his eyes when he told me that he has nightmares. This is the part of himself that Trent is afraid of . . . because it’s already hurt someone that he cares about.

  “Alpha.” The word passes my lips softly, like a woman calling across a bedroom to her lover in the early hours of a warm morning, inviting them back to bed with a curl of her finger and an open blanket.

  His hand twitches. He hears me.

  I slide my arm out of Scarlette’s grasp, taking advantage of her shocked reaction and the loosening of her hand while ignoring her hushed warnings and pleads for me to stay beside her. I cautiously step forward, breathing deeply to try and knock the shake out of my voice. I block out the panicked expressions of those around me.

  “It’s me,” I say softly, my dry tongue heavy in my mouth as I take another step. My bare feet curls in the sand. “I’m unharmed and right here.”

  His shoulders tense as I lift my fingers, hovering them over his bicep. I’m terrified that one wrong move could set him o
ff. That flicker of recognition is enough for me to know that he isn’t completely gone, but I still don’t know his wolf or what his response will be.

  I need to convince him.

  “Your luna.” A gasp leaves my lips as he grabs my hand from the air, stopping it from touching him as I mean to. His eyes are still unmoving from Cam. He clicks his tongue.

  “I know who you are. You’re the only thing we’ve thought about all day,” he replies simply, as if talking about the weather. “Do you know how maddening it is, trying to think straight and piece together the facts while every minute he’s just worried about you and your safety?”

  A look of alarm passes over Cole’s face as his voice rises, narrowing his eyes at my arm, but I shake my head subtly, warning him to not move. Despite how it looks, I don’t feel in danger. He isn’t hurting me.

  “That’s Trent,” I laugh gently. “Always worried about me, even when I’m perfectly fine.”

  He pulls lips back in a quiet snarl, hardening his gaze with my words.

  “But you weren’t fine.” His fingers flex. “He threatened you.”

  The sound of Cam’s breath being cut off again is chilling. I watch as his feet scrape along the sand, toes stretching for ground that’s just out of reach.

  You need to get through to him.

  With a gentle touch, I pull back my arm that he’s holding. I guide his tanned hand into my own as I try to tug him around to face me, ignoring the way that every one of my nerves is itching for me to flee.

  I’m not running away from him, not again.

  “I’m fine,” I repeat, no louder than a hush as I step into his body, leaving only a small bit of space between us. Everyone tenses, senses alert to the new potential harm that I’ve just put myself into.

  “Elle, don’t—”

  The look I give Cam is enough to shut him up instantly, but his voice still makes Trent’s lip curl and my panic rises.

  I need his attention. Quickly, I place his hand onto my waist, pushing through the goose bumps that erupt all over me at the single touch of his skin on somewhere unfamiliar. His hand shakes for a moment, fingers splaying out, as if testing the water of a hot bath—scared to fully submerge.

  “Feel me,” I rasp, watching the twitch of his brow as I trail his hand across my stomach. “I’m right here.”

  The coil in my core curls at the sensation. I’m highly aware that I’m in nothing but a bikini as I coerce his hand around to my back, wrapping myself in it. As I slide into the crook of his arm, I glide my fingers upwards, following the veins in his wrist through to his elbow before slowly tracing the bones across his collarbone.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever felt him like this. The first time I’ve ever had my body so purposefully pressed against him. The first time his fingertips have ever graced a place usually covered by clothing. It’s not exactly how I imagined my first time being so exposed to him, but that’s why I know that it might be able to drag him out of the depths of his own hellish mind, that the sparks that are rushing in my bloodstream might wake him up when he feels them, that it might coax him out of the shadows.

  Or at least, it might distract his wolf.

  It’s almost torturous, being this close to him yet knowing that he’s so far away—lost in his own mind and self-inflicted turmoil.

  As my palm turns upwards and begins to curl around his jaw, his head snaps to me. With eyes of fire, he drops Cam’s choking body and engulfs me in his arms and pulling me flush against him as his grip on me tightens. I don’t dare to breathe as he burrows his face into my neck, his lips and hot breath brushing against it roughly.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Scarlette motion for me to stay still. Her expression is one of concentration as she tries to move closer. There’s a brush of sand as her feet hit something, and Trent’s body stiffens in response.

  I remain still. I can’t panic him.

  I hold my hand out to her, stopping her advance as I feel his nose trail along my neck, inhaling deeply.

  You help. That’s what he had told me before; maybe it still meant something even now.

  “I know you’re trying to protect me,” I whisper, fluttering my eyes closed as I try to focus on keeping my body calm and mind collected. “But I can’t let you do something that Trent is going to hate himself for afterwards.”

  There’s a grumble from his throat, not quite a growl but a sound of dark amusement that seems almost more threatening than anything that’s happened yet, as if resigned to the darkness.

  “He already hates himself, he hates me.”

  I knew it.

  Lost in our conversation and his inner thoughts, the pressure of Trent’s head lifts from my neck. He loosens his arms slightly as he straightens up, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “He tries to keep me back, to stop me from being heard,” it whispers, like an abandoned child. “He pretends that I am not a part of him, that every one of my thoughts and feelings isn’t his. Like if he tries hard enough, he can forget that I exist.”

  His eyes meet mine, pulling me into their deep sadness like a pot of treacle while suffocating me with the pain that’s embedded in them. The sparkling, golden colour is completely void, as if it too is drowning.

  His wolf is in anguish.

  “I embarrass him,” he admits, thoughts glazing over. His eyes are brooding. “He’s ashamed of who he becomes when I take over. He hides me from you because he’s scared of what you’ll think of him. Of me. Of what we can do. He blames me for . . .”

  The memory itself seems too painful for even his wolf to think about as it rapidly blinks away the thought, refusing to dive into that particular confession. In response, he grits his jaw.

  “As if the anger that I feel isn’t his own. As if I will give up on the feeling that burns in my soul every day and every night. Like refusing to acknowledge it will just let it slip away.” He swallows. “But it won’t.”

  My heart breaks at the terrified look that I see flash across his features before it’s back to the hardened glare, the mask of strength and power hiding what is truly happening in his head. His hold on me begins to retract. I quickly grab onto him, my fingers holding his neck in place and stopping him from turning.

  “You’re angry,” I breathe. “And you have every right to be.”

  The look of surprise on his features is enough for me to know that he’s listening, that despite his anger and nature, Trent’s wolf is still Trent.

  And that means that he can hear me.

  “But I can’t let you hurt Cam.” My voice is as shaky as my hand that slowly trails down his arm with a featherlight touch.

  “Trent promised me that I would never suffer,” I explain, gently pressing my forehead to his as I reach down. I curl my finger around his outstretched hand. “And you know that I could never forgive him for hurting my best friend.”

  It’s like I’m watching a plug being pulled from a sink full of water. The darkness in his eyes melts into the pupil, sinking away to reveal the familiar soft glow that I’ve come to adore. It isn’t quite there yet, but it glimmers—a coat of paint brushed over that’s too thin to hide. The anger and tension in his muscles seeps away until his brows furrow together and his chest begins to rise like he’s catching a breath after breaking the surface of water.

  “You can let him go.”

  The relief I feel as I hear his baritone voice is immediate, my lungs dusting away the cobwebs after being held unmoving for so long. I see the looks of confusion and awe between the boys beside us as they hesitantly drop the arms of their captive, stepping away from him instantly. Cam yanks his limbs to freedom, rolling his shoulders with tightly gritted teeth as he inches closer, muttering something to himself.

  I don’t dare let my eyes leave Trent’s as I clear my throat, holding his gaze and attention in fear of it spiralling again. My loud heartbeat alerting me that, yes, that did really just happen.

  “Cam?” He looks at me, waiting. “You need to leave
.”

  It’s not exactly what I intend to come out of my mouth, but as I say it, I know it’s the only thing that I can. Just because I’ve managed to reign in the murderous tendencies of the wolf, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still there. Cameron needs to leave before he snaps.

  With a resigned sigh, I think he’s going to listen and leave, but he does the opposite.

  “Elle—”

  I feel the wind on my face and the sound of a fist flying before Cam is even able to touch me with his outstretched hand. It’s only when he hits the ground that I register that Trent has punched him square in the face.

  “Do not touch her.”

  Cam’s body is crumpled below him. His—no doubt—aching cheek cupped in his hand as he lies face down in the sand, his laboured breath the only sound. Scarlette and the boys move closer, their instinct to defend their alpha coming naturally as they surround the pair, standing in the perfect attack position.

  I, along with everyone else, wait for Trent to pounce.

  That’s why, when he turns to me and takes my hand in his, his feet moving him in the direction of the car and not to the body before him. I’m too shocked for words and just let him lead me. His feet pad along the sand. He passes Scarlette without so much as a glance, ignoring her bewildered expression that follows us.

  Had that actually worked? Are we about to walk away from this with a punch being the only outcome? Could I talk his wolf down enough to actually disappear?

  “You don’t deserve her.”

  I’ve never experienced someone thrusting their hand down my throat and grabbing my heart before, but if I had? It would definitely feel like what I’m experiencing right now.

  The crushing feeling of hopelessness that makes your bones ache and your chest contract, the shock as the victorious feeling that you celebrated too early is wrenched from your grasp, all thoughts of peace scattering like your breath.

  Looking back at Cam, I watch him push himself to his knees while spitting in Trent’s direction. The sand turns red where it lands and as he wipes his hand across his mouth, I see his skin change colour too.