A deceitful game || Libby & Derek
The blonde had been laid there for over a day, but luckily no hunters had passed by. In Libbys head she was back at home, all the arguments she had left behind were ever present again. Then her train of thought shifted to the night she had received the bite—the alpha—the unknown face—the fear and she groaned, shifted position, which brought her around and back to reality. That’s when she felt sick and her eyes slowly opened. She didn’t know how long she had been there, only the male who had attacked her and even then, she had no recollection of him clawing her the first time, or how he had wiped her memories since arriving in Beacon hills. Her thoughts were hazy, she remembered being bitten, the authorities removing her from her home because of her parents and then…..some stranger— some wolf with red eyes throwing her against a tree and slashing her arm. The girl was full of confusion and a well of panic washed over her as she moved to sit up and lean against the trunk of a tree. She flinched as the wound to the arm still hadn’t healed properly. How long had she been there—and where the hell was ‘there’ anyway?
Every part of her wanted to scream out in panic and fear, she didn’t know what the hell was happening—but the feelings she had were exactly the same as the first day she arrived in the town—no control of her wolf side—only with the amnesia too, she felt vulnerable and Libby hated feeling that way, so to mask it, she covered it with the only defence mechanism she knew how—anger.
Dragging herself up from the ground, looking everything like someone who lived on the streets, all unkempt and dishevelled—the blonde looked around the woods, her blue hues zoning in on the tree with the clawed words on it, saying, ‘welcome to Beacon hills’ She swallowed down a low growl, she was hungry and felt like she could eat anything…attack anything—but that damn fucking nausea wouldn’t leave, and her brow furrowed as she brought her hand up to the back of her neck, where the puncture wounds were. Where the hell am I?…what’s happening to me?? The inner voice she held was asking all the questions, but she had no answers.
