HUNTED

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Clint stood before her, his blonde hair slicked back, not a strand out of place, and his icy blue gaze locked with hers. His attire was of a black and red chequered shirt with jeans and boots on. Something that seemed out of place with his stone-cold appearance.

Aila noticed like when she previously saw this hunter, there was a chill and murderous aura in the air. He did not seem like an ordinary human; heck, none of the hunters seemed to with such pure hatred and violence in their hearts. But like Silas, Clint could not hide the void of human emotion behind those eyes.

His lips curled into a smile, and Aila's stomach seemed to flip, not from some unknown attraction but more in the sense of nausea. She did not want to be anywhere near this man. She wondered if the smile he wore ever deceived women, though she could plainly see no warmth behind it but ill intent. Was this personal to him?

Clint raised his hands up as though he was calming a feral animal. Heck, she'd prefer if she was feral right now. At least she could rip him to pieces and be done with this nightmare. Wasn't there a horror film with a cabin..

"Hello, Aila. How are your injuries?" Clint's cold voice seemed to snap Aila out of her daze.

"I am sure you are aware the wolfsbane is slowing them down," She replied coolly as her gaze wandered down to his slow steps that came towards her. Every step he took, she instinctively took a step back.

Clint tilted his head to the side, dropping his hands to his sides. "Yes, I apologise for that. But, given the situation, you did attack us first. And so brazenly at that.."

Aila gritted her teeth before responding, her eyes still flickering at every little movement of his. His heart was still crazily beating. It kept her on edge, wondering what thoughts were running through his mind. "We didn't expect to fall into a trap," She admitted and sidestepped, so the sofa was in between them.

Her instincts were telling her not to make sudden movements or to be rash. There might be weapons she could use, but at the moment, she needed to make sure her freedom to the space stayed the same. Her mind wandered to what may be in the basement, and she knew it was not somewhere she wanted to be.

But even with her staying calm and acting as though he was more the animal than her, she could still sense the excitement pouring off him as he neared her. Clint smiled again and abruptly turned his back on her, walking towards the small kitchen, and turned on the kettle. Aila watched in stunned silence as the noise of the kettle filled the room. She stayed still as he searched the cupboards.

"We should talk over a hot tea. Do you drink tea?" He asked over his shoulder as he bent over and pulled out two light blue mugs. Aila looked at him wide-eyed and glanced at the front door. "I would not try anything rash, Aila."

Aila stepped around the couch and assessed her surroundings again. She gulped and decided to go along with whatever messed up game was running through his mind. Her instincts were also telling her to follow along. He was like a madman; she couldn't comprehend what he might do. 

What would be the best spot to be if she did needed to do escape quickly.

The sofa was too close to that basement area, and she didn't like the idea of sitting cosily next to him; though one of the sofas had a view of the front door, it didn't give her any sense of comfort. None of this did. Now that the cosy log cabin had some psychopath in the space with her, it felt suffocating. Not that death loomed over her, but something even worse.

CLINK

Aila jumped on the spot, her eyes snapping to Clint's hands. He pulled the spoon out of the cup and placed it on the side before holding the mugs and placing them on carved wooden coasters set at the round table. Aila inhaled sharply as he gestured for her to sit at the leather chair placed at the table. It was also in the corner of the room. A part that seemed like the worst possible position to be in.

"If you don't sit, Aila, things will become very ugly for you. And I do not want to destroy such a lovely dress just yet." He patted the arm of the leather chair. Aila slowly walked towards it, warily glancing at him and tensing as she came closer, expecting him to jump up and grab her somehow. However, she kept her chin high, not wanting to show any form of fear, even if she was fearful of him.

Aila didn't know why. She was a fricken werewolf and could kill him in one go. Wait, she could just rip his throat out, right? Maybe sitting close to him like this was a good idea. She slowly sat down and faced what seemed like the grim reaper in the seat next to her. Even if she was trapped in the corner, she could just kill him then go.

Even if Aila had wolfsbane in her system, the last time she was at the hunters compound, she managed to attack people without her powers and her claws was starting to show. She placed her hands on the edge of her seat and focused on her claws while staring at the drink, trying not to pay attention to Clint's gaze on her face. She inhaled sharply as the tips of her fingers throbbed, and a tear fell down her face in pain from her claws trying to rip through her nails and skin.

A burning pain shot up her arms, and she shivered. Her eyes snapped to Clint after his hand slowly caressed her cheek and wiped away the tear. She tried to move her head away, but his grip on her face tightened, and she saw a dangerous glint flicker across his eyes. "Although I do love seeing tears on such a beautiful face, I'm afraid it won't do you any good if I get started early. Do not try anything."

Started early?

He released her face and glanced at her tea. Aila gripped onto the mug with both hands and took a tentative sip before looking at Clint once more. She did not want to drink anymore; he could have put something in there for all she knew. She placed the mug back onto the table, keeping her hands on it for the comfort the warmth provided and looked at the hunter from the corner of her eye.

Aila couldn't believe her claws would not come out. How much wolfsbane did he put in her system? She thought her body could take high quantities after what she needed to do to get Malia free. But if this was the case, then he had been injecting her possibly a few times a day. For however long she had already been there.

He was still watching her as he sipped his tea before looking across at the window. "Where are we? And how long have I been here?" Aila asked suddenly. She wanted to know how far she can push him before he snapped. She would not try anything rash but to see if he would answer simple questions.

"This is my place. I come here to go hunting. It is sort of a vacation home," Clint answered calmly. His gaze was still on the scenery outside the window, "The deer over the fireplace is one I caught a year ago. There is also a bear rug and a wolf's.. Would you like to see them after this?"

The way he spoke was just creepy. Even if hunting was the norm in these areas, even as a human, she despised it. She was a vet in love with animals, and hunting as a werewolf was only to survive. This man killed for fun. "That's okay, I don't-"

"I will show you my conquests after," He interrupted dismissively. Aila didn't really have a say anyway. "You have been here four days now."

Aila's brows rose at this, even though her assumption was two to three days due to her injuries still healing. It appears he was really injecting her with high doses of wolfsbane; even if she was a little accustomed to the pain, it didn't mean her body would magically heal itself. Aila took a sip from her drink and sighed before placing her hand on her chest, flinching as she felt the skin where the bullet holes were. They seemed sewn up? Stitches?

"I didn't think it would take three bullets to take you out," Clint murmured. Aila's shocked features looked at him. "Which is why I have been a bit more cautious with your dosage. Though the bleeding of the bullets was too much. I don't mind cleaning, but I had to change your bed sheets a lot, and this was the third dress I put on you."

Aila's face paled at his comments. Third dress, blood.. So it was him who dressed her.

"W-why," She cleared her throat and pushed past her fear, looking directly into the abyss of his wretched eyes. "Why did you put me in a dress?"

Clint tilted his head to the side with a smile, "Because you look lovely in it."

Such words from a handsome face would make any woman blush. Not her. Nope. Even if this weren't her situation, this man just had an aura that screamed she should run away and hide!

However, Aila nodded her head as though it was perfectly normal. "But, why are we here? Do you not need to take me to the hunters?"

Clint slammed his fist into the table, his eyes blazing at her suggestion. "Can you not just SIT WITH ME," He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he appeared to be calming himself from such a rage that exploded within him. "Enjoy a little peace and quiet." He lowered his voice, making her skin go cold.

He abruptly stood, making Aila jump once more. "I will take you to them. But it is not urgent." He turned his back to her and poured his cup into the sink. His heartbeat was increasing once more, and she watched him rake his hand through his hair and leaving it in place, half his hand covering one eye as he turned his head and stared at her. A cruel smile crept up his face as a lust for.. violence filled his eyes.

Her heart dropped at the look on his face. That was the look of a killer!

Aila jumped up and threw the table over, letting the cup fling into his face. She didn't wait to see what he would do and bolted towards the front door. Aila turned the knob and almost screamed in relief when it opened. She jumped over the two steps leading down the partial hill and fled towards the woods away from the cabin.

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