Fear of death?

At that precise moment, Ophelia was unable to comprehend what was happening. A dream, perhaps? And if she was, why was she dreaming about a man she had never met before?

He was just too gorgeously ethereal, like he belonged in a dream.

His piercing crimson wolf eyes informed her that he was a werewolf, but she had sharp enough senses to recognize him as a powerful wolf shifter who was likely a purebred.

If she was having a dream? Why on earth was a strange werewolf in her dream, and why on earth was he so stunningly attractive.

He was practically a silhouette in the darkness, so she hadn't even gotten a good look at him, but she could tell he was built and very tall, likely the same height as her brother.

His words—a firestorm? Ridiculous. All she needed to know was her location.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She demanded sternly that he respond to her questions right away.

He laughed in a chilly, dark tone. He kept his cheeky grin on his face. "I am as eager as you are, firestorm, but I am not complaining." Ophelia's eyes widened as he spoke softly, showing that she had no faith in him at all.

"Stop calling me that." She murmured, attempting to contain her impending rage. Why would anyone refer to her as a firestorm?

"Calling you what?" He asked acting fool, but his voice was surprisingly having an unexpectedly positive effect on her.

"I'm not here to listen to your nonsense," Ophelia snapped, then moaned and dug her fingers into her hair in anger. "I have no idea why I am even here." She grunted.

"Perhaps you are here because you are thinking about me," He cooed, and Ophelia's eyes twitched, seeing amusement in those blazing eyes.

It was almost as if they were in a dark cavern with her at the entrance and him at the far end yet, she could feel his strong, violent, dark, and mysterious aura that reeked of death. Her heart actually skipped a beat as fear swept through her body like never before.

"I don't even know you, so how can I be thinking about you." Ophelia asked incredulously, having done a perfect job of holding back her fear for him.

Her mind was constantly warning her that there was danger, but for some reason neither her legs nor his seemed to be moving.

"Why bother?" With a deep chuckle and a click of his tongue, he inquired. "The last thing I remember is falling asleep." He abruptly added.

"You haven't slept in days?" When he nodded, Ophelia exclaimed, "I'm shocked!" and frowned slightly.

"Based on your reaction, you are in the same situation as me, but trust me when I say that mine is much worse." He told her while grinning a little.

Ophelia snorted. What could be more terrible than her life?

"You are a werewolf." She narrowed her eyes at him and whispered deeply."

"You are a dragon." He adopted her tone. "You shouldn't put too much pressure on yourself; it will only lead to death in the end, and everyone will forget about you; you won't matter anymore." He continued slowly this time with his deep, dark tone.

Ophelia noticed something strange about him, the way he spoke... but couldn't explain why or how it affected her.

"By the way, I prefer to be referred to as a lycan because I am a lycan."

"Pure bre..?"

"Pure blood." He abruptly cut in.

Ophelia's mind jumbled as she processed that information, and as her mind cleared, she began to deny that he couldn't be who she thought he was.

Just because he was a pure blooded lycan didn't mean he was who she thought he was!

"We are adversaries." She snarled.

"Did I murder your father?" Unexpectedly, he asked with a flat tone.

"What? No!" Ophelia found it impossible to believe him at that moment.

"So why are we at war with each other?" He continued by asking, sounding innocently sarcastic. His voice was just too low, smooth, and effortlessly seductive.

Who was this man? How could his voice have such an unusual effect on her? She couldn't even comprehend or articulate how she felt.

"Are you kidding me?" She rolled her eyes and scoffed. To her, his question was completely stupid and absurd.

"Actually, I am not." She clenched her fist in readiness to strike if he attacked because his voice sounded so grave this time. She didn't have the slightest faith in him and yearned to be awakened from her protracted sleep.

She could no longer see that gorgeous face that she had only partially seen; it was now just his silhouette. She felt her heart quicken as fear overcame her as she heard his cold, deep laughter erupt in the dark. Although it didn't seem to be directed at her, she could feel his anger, which seemed to be a part of him.

She hadn't felt this terrified in so many years. He wasn't even attacking her, but despite her best efforts to hide it from her face, she was terrified of him. He was a lycan, a pure blood one to be exact, and because of this, he could hear her heartbeat clearly and smell the fear she was trying to hide for him.

He said calmly as if he were saying "Hello," "Well, I have to go now. I would have loved to stick around but I am coming out soon, which means I have so many to meet, places to be, and people to kill."

Ophelia laughed apprehensively but stopped when she only saw his blood-red eyes staring menacingly at her. She thought she was going to be split in half by the piercing gaze. His eyes were icy and resembled an endless, bloody void.

He was serious when he spoke, but what did he mean when he said "coming out soon"?

"Is the fire storm scared?" He asked.

She heard him call her that, and an automatic frown of annoyance appeared on her face. "Fuck you!" She hissed.

"How brazen of you to say, Fire Storm, I will undoubtedly track you down and give you the green light to act."

"W..what?" Ophelia stumbled in complete shock. He caused her to stumble on her words, and she couldn't believe it! Sheldon despised that and has made sure she never falters when speaking. The next instant, she maintained her composure and said, "If you come across me, I'll rip your head off of your body. Absolutely repulsive!" She snapped, and for a brief moment she felt his rage shoot at her like an arrow.

"I can sense your hatred, but I'm confident you can sense my rage." This time, his voice was so forceful and menacing that she almost believed he was going to attack her.

Ophelia forced herself to swallow her fear, which was quickly replaced rage. "I'll tell you right now, your kind are nothing but heartless dogs. Nikolai Novikov, you are going to be my first victim when I kill you all!" She suddenly disappeared into the shadows, her golden reptile-like eyes fluttered open, and they sharpened with intense rage.