28: Ninja Granny
VERENA
I gasp as I feel my body being propelled towards the tracks, with the train inches away. In a flash of light, I regain my balance and step away from the edge of the platform.
The sound of the train tires passing through the platform overcomes the sound of my racing heartbeat as I stare at the old lady with wide eyes. My body would have been smashed by the train. Did she push me mistakenly?
“Why did you-” I stop as I notice how the old lady straightens her back and flexes her arms. A shadow falls on her round face while her eyes glint yellow with a hint of danger in them.
“Tch. So close,” she clicks her tongue.
I gulp the lump down my throat while positioning my body in a fighting stance, “Who are you?” I ask in a serious tone.
The old lady pulls a knife from the pocket of her pink sweater and flips it in her hand like a pen. Her lips curl upward in an unnerving smile. Aw, don’t be scared, angel. I’m just going to hurt you a little.”
Then, in a second, the knife is inches away from cutting my face. I gasp at her speed and narrowly dodge the tip of the blade. The woman is so quick I can’t even blink while dodging her attacks. Her fragile, bony arm wields the knife like an expert, her movements quick and precise, aiming for my eyes.
My defense feels inadequate as the blade makes contact with the side. of my face, above the mask, making a sharp cut. I hiss as the cut burns in the cold air.
The knife hurtles toward me, and instinctively, I arch my body backward in a clean backbend. Glinting under the dim station lights, the knife sails over me, narrowly missing its mark by inches. In that position, I drive my knee upward at lightning speed, aiming for her
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midsection. The strike connects with a satisfying thud, eliciting a grunt of pain from the ninja granny as she staggers backward.
I straighten my back, feeling a twinge of guilt as I watch the old woman groan in pain. It’s hard to believe she’s the same person who looked so cute and helpless just minutes ago.
Ninja Granny scowls as she looks at me. “They said you’d be easy to finish off. But you’re good.”
My eyes narrow at her words. I no longer feel guilty for hurting her. But ‘they‘? So there’s more than one person behind this.
“Who are they?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on her. Someone who must have known that I’d be here. Was I being followed?
She coughs, then says, “They-” But she doesn’t finish, and my eyes. widen as the knife inches closer to plunging into my belly. My pup!
At that second, my body moves on its own, and a sharp thwack sound fills the air as the blade penetrates my flesh. Droplets of blood fly across the old woman’s face as she watches me with wide eyes. The blade pierces through my hand while my belly is unharmed.
I groan in pain as the skin of the cold blade pierces my flesh. The old woman’s face contorts in anger, “You bitch! Why do you ruin everything?! That’s my favorite knife” she shouts. What a weird
granny.
I use that opportunity to swing the heavy suitcase at her head. It renders her unconscious on the platform. It was one of her suitcases, and I grabbed it with my unharmed hand when she was distracted.
I stand to catch a breath, then sit on the platform feeling exhausted. When I lived in the orphanage, I did not have access to pack training. I had to go through a lot of bullying, so to protect myself, I sneaked into the pack grounds and watched the warriors spar. It was through observation, practice, and experimenting that I taught myself how to fight. But never did I imagine those harsh self–training days would pay off battling a granny.
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I wince as I move my hand. My gaze shifts to the old woman. Who sent her? Who’d want to harm me?
My left hand goes through her sweater pockets to see if I can find anything. But then I hear footsteps, and find Carlisle entering the platform with his men. He looks at me, his eyes widening.
“Fuck!” He rushes towards me and helps me stand on my feet. He pulls my injured hand, his face morphing into dire concern. “How did this happen?” he asks.
“I was attacked by this old woman,” I point beside me, and he follows my finger.
“Who?” He asks, his brows furrowing.
“Huh?” I whirl my head to my right, and find both the old lady and the train to my peaceful life gone. “She was here!” I say, and point at the suitcases that she brought with herself.
We head back to the packhouse, and the walls of my room echo with my screams as the knife is pulled out of my hand. Carlisle tries to do it as carefully as possible, but it still hurts a lot.
An hour later, tears stream down my face, soaking my cheeks as my hand trembles, the wound from the knife leaving a large gash, flesh peeking through. “I shouldn’t have let you go,” Ruth says, her own eyes welling with tears as she tends to my wound.
I’m about to reassure her when the doors open, and Carlisle strides in. His jaw is clenched, his gaze fixed on me with suppressed anger. Ruth, leave,” he commands in his Alpha voice, a tone I rarely hear him.
use.
Ruth gives me an apologetic glance before obeying, stepping toward him. She halts in front of him, her voice firm as she says, “Don’t be too hard on her.”
Carlisle’s brows knit together as he responds, “You knew about this. Yet you kept it from me,” hurt evident in his tone.
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Ruth keeps her chin up, and without a hint of guilt replies, “It was for Verena’s good.”
He scoffs, “Yeah, we can see the good that has come out of it,” he mutters sarcastically, pointing towards my hand.
Ruth’s eyes flash with guilt, and I say without thinking, “It’s not her fault. I am the one who wanted to do this!”
Carlisle’s eyes snap at me, “Shut up, Verena. You betrayed me. If I hadn’t figured it out, you would have run away.”
I swallow hard at his words, and look away, “I had no choice,” I whisper.
“Why?” he asks, staring intensely at me. When I don’t answer, he turns to Ruth and asks, “What is the reason?”
Ruth purses her lips. “I can’t tell you.”
He raises a brow while glaring at her. “Is Verena more important to you now?”
She shakes her head. “The secret she’s hiding is a heavy one. It can change everything.”
Carlisle sighs and places a hand on his hips. He asks me, “Will you tell me your secret if I tell you mine?”
My eyes dilate. “Your secret?”
He nods. “I have one that’s very important to me just like you do. A secret for a secret. What do you say?”
I purse my lips in hesitation but then decide to hear him out. “Alright.” His shoulders relax. “Good. But I can’t tell you. I have to show it.‘
Minutes later, he takes me to the door he forbade me to enter in the past and opens it. I am a little nervous as well as excited to know what’s inside. But when the lights turn on, extreme shock takes over