THE CLAIMING (The Chosen Series #1)

MORNING AFTER

I rub my eyes, adjusting to the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, and sit up with effort. Glancing down, I let out a sigh; somehow during the night, I ended up in just my underwear. My thoughts feel scrambled as I try to piece together the last few hours. Turning to the left side of the bed, I find only vacant sheets.

Empty. Completely empty!

A surge of panic prompts me to mentally replay the events of the night and go over my dream. Instinctively, I check for any signs of forced entry to my lady parts, reassured to find that everything feels normal and my body confirms that there were no unexpected visitors last night. But where could he have gone?

Leaping out of bed, I land heavily on the wooden floor, feeling a twinge in my joints as I steady myself. I spot my clothes neatly folded on the rocking chair, hastily dress, and continue scanning the room for any clue of my absent companion's whereabouts.

Hoping he's just in the bathroom, I make my way to the barn door while hurriedly pulling on my pants. I slide it open and peek inside.

Nothing. Shit, shit, shitty McShit!

I quickly tug on my crinkled blouse, pulling it over my bra as I rush to the landing. Looking down—still nothing. I bound down the stairs two at a time and fling open the front door, but there's no sign of my mysterious stranger. I check every conceivable hiding spot as I grab my bag, finding my belongings untouched.

Phone, wallet, keys—all accounted for. My cash and cards are just where I left them. It's as if last night never happened. How many drinks did I actually have? Stepping outside and slipping on my boots, I head to my car to check for any signs that affirm last night really did happen. Bending down to the front panel, I find a small dent and what looks like dark rust.

"Double shit, where the fuck did you go?"

It really happened! I hit someone with my car, brought them home, and put them in my bed. I thought last night was bizarre, but this vanishing act certainly takes the cake.

Turning back towards the porch, I spot something furry and red beside the welcome mat. I must have missed it earlier. As I move closer, I gag when the furry object reveals itself as the torso of what was once a rabbit, now horribly mangled. My stomach churns, and I vomit over the side of the railing. My head spins as I take several deep breaths, trying to regain composure. A missing naked man, a headless rabbit—WTF! Where's my goddamn tranquility?

After muttering a few choice words to steady my nerves, I head into the kitchen to grab a pair of tongs and a garbage bag. Holding my breath and fighting the urge to gag, I carefully dispose of the unfortunate rabbit, placing its remains in the trash along with the used utensils.

Still feeling shaken, I return to the warmth of the cabin and make sure all the doors are securely locked. Then, I go to the bathroom to thoroughly wash my hands, scrubbing away any last traces of the ordeal. As I look in the mirror, I barely recognize the person staring back—hair tangled, curls unruly, brown eyes red-rimmed, and skin unnaturally pale.

Burning my hands under the steaming hot water, I try to erase the chaos of the previous night, then head to the bedroom. I close the curtains, strip off my clothes, and slide under the covers. Snuggling deep into the duvet, I'm enveloped by a faint scent of pine and spice, which proves unexpectedly calming. Closing my eyes, I let the soothing aroma help me drift off to sleep.

.....................................................................................

It's mid-afternoon by the time I finally wake up, feeling a bit sore from oversleeping. I drag myself out of bed and head to the bathroom for a shower. As I brush my teeth and let the hot water soothe my aching lower back, I crack my neck and notice that my muscles are swollen and tender, almost like premenstrual symptoms. But since I just had my period last week, it must be stress. Considering the screwed-up events of last night, it's no surprise they're taking a toll not just mentally, but physically too.