Misfortunes

As one of those classic runaway brides, Prisana had envisioned her journey to be graced with uplifting hope. But that was far from the kind of journey that shed it's skies and bled her muscles numb. She fought with the raging currents of the rivers, and paddled against rocks and large wooden logs.

But, all to no avail.

The thunderous storm ripped apart the canoe at her knees in two. Rising splashing currents engulfed her body, it's ice cold waters numbing every joint and bone. Prisana struggled to breathe out air as ripples of water came relentlessly crashing down on her one after the other.

This—sob story catastrophe—was her punishment. The bible taught one to be selfless and always forgiving. She chose her heart. Her selfish desires. Maybe the heavens were angry. Specifically, those at her wedding expecting the bride to be at the altar.

Father.

Giovanni.

Prisana wondered if her father was worried. But she knew the truth. It wasn't his darling daughter that he was worried about but his reputation.

News of his runaway daughter would tarnish his celebrity reputation as the grand wedding of the century is called off. Maybe Prisana could be wrong. She hoped to death she was wrong.

Would Gio come look for her, beg for forgiveness, and pledge his undying love? Maybe. His future connections and assets depended on this marriage. He's done this before.

The cheating didn't matter. It only tore and bled at her as the one person she trusted as her own sister turned her back on her. Erica knew it hurt to see the man Prisana would marry, love other women. She knew it hurt but that it wouldn't break her. Erica knew it wouldn't break her unless it was Erica herself.

Prisana clasped her hand onto the dirt landing, wheeling herself onto her feet. Wet drops continued to pour and smear at her already tear stricken face.

"I've been a good daughter! A good bride to be! An obedient stick in the ass! This is how you treat me? Come on, give me everything you got. I'll take it."

Her words were met with a flash of lightning. Her spine jolted in response, not to the lightning but to the large feral being glowering from inside the pine tree shadows.

Another flash of light illuminated monstrous grizzly features—small roundish black eyes, large nostrils, and a snarling jagged open mouth. Her father did not teach her survival skills. Something, she supposed she should have taken into consideration when running out into the wild.

Large male hands stifled her screams.

"Trust me. I would not do that if I were you."

The voice of the owner was gruffly deep, tinged with laboring huskiness. Prisana dared to glance behind to a man whose stature was almost as large as the bear before her. He resembled a caveman. He had long dark hair that reached his elbows. There were scruffy, untamed, wild unruly locks of beard covering his prominent jawline.

Her eyes were completely drawn to the hideous bulging scar that cut through his right eye and slanted down across his cheek. Prisana twisted underneath another flash of lightning that further illuminated large jagged brown scars around his right dark smoldering eye.

Prisana's stalker from the shadows removed his hand from her lips but brought them down to clench one of her shoulders. She wasn't sure that she liked his over the casual touch but frankly at the moment, her shaking gradually subsided.

He seemed to notice her staring intently at his scar and covered it with a half ski mask—the kind with no mouth and a slit opening for the eyes.

On anyone else, it would have looked sinister.

Oh him, it looked stunning as sin underneath the starless clouding black sky.