‹ Prequel: Alpha
Sequel: Aspen County ›
Streak of Black
Chapter 17
Everyone races out of the house and stops short, eyes going from me to the wall to Lovett to the knife to his bloody palm that's already healing.
Lovett visibly shakes himself, struggling to get Monique out of his head. I realize what she did. After our battle, she had enough strength that she was able to take over my brother's head and make him hide the knife. She then forced him to retrieve it and use it as a symbol of what we'll all be against.
'Pretty and smart.'
'Why Lovett?'
'Because he's the only one who won't have inexplicable burn marks later, and, well...because I can.'
'I'll kill you, you bitch.'
'You can't kill me without killing yourself.'
I run to my confused brother's side. He looks back and forth between his hand and the wall and the knife. He doesn't remember a thing.
"What the hell happened. What does that mean?" He asks, trying to remember anything useful, trying to make sense of all of this.
I sigh, knowing what it means. I don't know if it's because of this connection that I have with Monique or just plain rationalization but I know. "It means that Damien's father knows that our trail was fake." I sigh again and look around at my family, both blood and extended. "It means that he's coming."
'It's also your final warning.'
* * * * *
We all sit in the family room again, even Cannan who lingers in the shadows and is ignored. No one says a word after I explain what happened to Lovett. My brother seems depressed where he sits. Depressed and guilty. I want to comfort him, but I know from experience that there's nothing that anyone can say to comfort him right now.
"How long do we have?" Lunette finally asks, assuming the role of the adult in the situation of scared and confused teenagers. We need her.
"She won't tell me. She's not helping us with anything else right now."
"She said that?"
"She said that the message on the shed is our final warning. I know her. She isn't helping anymore unless she thinks that some new information will torture me as much if not more than it will help." Everyone sags into their seats and thinks. "Look," I say, knowing that any ideas that anyone might have to trick Monique will fail hopelessly. "I've worked with and talked with this thing for a couple of months now. Honestly, patience is key. Eventually, she'll get bored and let something slip so that one of us will do something to amuse her. Just be patient and act like nothing is wrong." I stand up, and Ryder rises to follow me out of the room. "For now, our best bet is to just make sure that we're all physically prepared. The rest will be left up to fate."
'Well, not fate per se.'
'Shut up.'
Ryder and I leave as Monique leaves me alone, but he gently grabs my wrist as I prepare to go up the stairs. He holds his finger up to his smiling lips and leads me to an empty sitting room on the other side of the house. A grin creeps across my face as I realize what his intentions are.
I shut the large French doors and close the curtains over them, pushing Ryder into one of the plushy, one-person chairs. This was a study years ago that my uncle spent a lot of time in. His desk is still littered with papers, and there are two chairs in one corner that Louna and Kenley used to sit in and read while their father was working. I feel a little guilty about using his old study and the chair of a child for the purpose of a make out session, but I shove the guilt down as my lips meet Ryder's and we let the pressure of the past couple of weeks flood out of us in that one kiss. I straddle him as his arms wrap around my waist and mine drape over his shoulders. The kiss deepens as our tongues begin to dance and I press my body more firmly against his, molding myself to him. He presses one hand against the small of my back, holding me firmly against him, while the other gently floats up and down my spine, sending shivers through my body. I moan and tangle my fingers in his thick hair, massaging his scalp.
We eventually pause to come up for air. "Wow," he gasps. "We should do that more often." I smile down at him and press my forehead against his, our heavy breaths mingling in the small space of air between us. We haven't really spent much quality time together lately—even he's been a little wary around me—and it's nice to just let loose for once.
"What made you want to do this?" I ask as I steady my breathing.
"I just missed you," he whispers back, love filling his features. I realize that he hasn't said anything about being in love with me since that night that we were fighting—except in my dreams. Was it just his emotions running wild or did he really mean it? If he really did mean it, does he still?
I realize neither of us has said anything for several minutes. I decide to go for it. "Hey Ryder?"
"Yeah?" he asks wistfully, his eyes gazing adoringly into mine.
I bite my lip and blush. "Remember when Lovett got taken and we had that big argument?"
He seems to realize where I'm going with this. "Yeah…" His voice is hesitant, as if he's afraid of being hurt again
"Did you mean what you said?"
He knows exactly what I'm referring to. "Every word of it."
"How did you know?" I ask cautiously. He smiles at me and I let him shift me so that I sit in his lap with my head resting against his chest. I can feel his heart beating below my cheek.
"Don't laugh at me," he warns, looking at me seriously. I nod. "That first night—the first time I Changed—under the Full Moon, I saw you as you really were. You were strong, but you were vulnerable. I think that when I first saw you in your natural form, I fell. When I first saw you after that, the human you, I was in love. You were the reason that I would wake up in the morning with a smile on my face. I would look at you and all of the darkness in the world disappeared. When I was away from you, I was sad, and I would spend that time thinking of you and how to surprise you or make you laugh the next time I saw you. When you were sad, I felt like a part of me was going to die until the next time that you smiled. In my eyes, you shined as bright as the sun, but you were as beautiful as the moon. I meant what I said to my brother—you made me want to be a better person."
I look him in the eyes. He's scared, scared that he went too far, scared that he shouldn't have said all of that. I press my lips against his again, but he's a bit reluctant at first to respond. I realize just how scared he is of rejection, afraid that I don't feel that way towards him. I open my eyes, and the way I look at him makes him melt. His lips press against mine hungrily with the same passion that I have towards him.
When we finally come back up for air, I barely separate from him, only pulling my lips away so that I can breathe. "I love you, Ryder," I whisper, my voice barely audible. But I know that he heard me.
"I love you too."
* * * * *
We leave the study after a few hours. The sun has already set in the distance. Ryder and I didn't really kiss much after I said the L-word. We hadn't really said much either. We just sat there in the darkening study, me on his lap with my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. We had watched the sun set, but we just didn't want that moment to end. While we were in there, there was no one else, just us. There was no Voice, no Pack, no impending doom. Nothing but that little bubble that was us.
But of course it couldn't stay that way. Because we live in a world where nightmares come true, voices in your head speak the truth, and evil men hunt you down just because you're different.
Everyone we pass looks at our intertwined hands and then at our faces knowingly. I blush and wrap my arm around Ryder's so that I'm pressed even tighter against his side. He chuckles, pulls his arm from my clutches and wraps it around my shoulders. My aunt looks up as we pass the dining room to go upstairs and nods her approval.
In the werewolf world, since there are so many fewer of us than humans, we don't often meet. We come across each other every now and then, and there are clans like Cannan's, but for the most part, you stay in the Pack that you were part of since you were young. If you meet someone, even as a teenager, it's almost like you're Bonded for life to that person. In my aunt's eyes, Ryder and I are a done deal. And as the only adult figure I have left to look up to, her approval is a big deal to me.
* * * * *
We spend the next few days after that together pretty much all day. If we're alone, we're usually in the study, not just kissing, but also talking. Telling each other little things that the other didn't know or just rambling. If we're with the group hanging out or relaxing, we're holding hands or glued to each other’s side. If we're supposed to be practicing and preparing for the upcoming battle, the guys literally have to drag Ryder away—Lovett doing it gladly—and the girls have to do the same with me. We aren't even allowed to be sparring partners. We only have one thing on our minds: each other. Ryder blames teenage hormones and my beauty.
During the Full Moon, we run together, hunt together, play together. No one bothers trying to separate us. I think that everyone kind of figures that we're just trying to get as much time together as possible before it's time.
And on the last night of the Cycle, I smell them.
Ryder and I are chasing each other through the forest, racing across the leaf-littered ground, crawling under bushes and zigzagging all over the place to throw each other off. And then I pause, having caught a waft of something—of someone. It takes me a moment, but I place it, and I'm off. Now more desperate.
I turn around and race past Ryder to retrieve the Pack. I whine to alert them to find me. Ryder realizes the severity of the situation and stops playing. Everyone meets up with us, and I whine again, jerking my head in the direction that we came from, trying to translate to everyone to follow, but afraid to make too much noise so as not to alert the men of our closeness. I turn and start walking, sniffing the ground as I try to pick the scent back up. I do, and lead everyone deeper and deeper into the forest.
We arrive at a clearing. In it, tents are set up around a campfire. Men sit in little huddles or spar much as we were. Pacing the perimeter are more men. All of them are tall and muscular, wearing ridiculous suits, much like Damien's goons. And sitting there by the fire, eyes closed as he listens to his servants, is Damien's father.
A low growl builds in Lunette's throat next to me, and I huff at her. We can't let them know that we're here, not yet. We were planning like we would fight them as humans, not wolves. And watching them right now might give us the upper hand. On the other hand, we may not have a better chance than this one. They'll be surprised by us. We might be able to take them. There are 12 of us and about 40 of them. We might not be able to take them later. Wolf form is the best for us.
'What do you guys think?' I ask. To Monique, I ask, 'Are we supposed to fight now.'
'There will be a different outcome now than if you wait. Either way, it will be an eye for an eye—a life for a life.'
My Pack sends me conflicted opinions, but the greater opinion is to fight now. I get an idea.
'Everyone wait here. Keep Louna, Kenley, and Lunette here. Wait for my signal and charge.'
'Are you going to do something stupid again?' Lovett asks.
I choose not to answer and instead leave them and walk around to the opposite side of the clearing. I stick my snout only through the underbrush so that my Pack will be ready. And then I howl.
All of the heads in the clearing turn toward me, a lone wolf who pushed through the foliage to sit down before them all. Guns, swords, and daggers are pulled from waist belts and sheaths and pointed at me. Damien's father walks through all of his men, weaponless.
'Wait for it.'
"Ah, I take it that you would be Louve. Men, don't shoot her…yet. He stares at me with great interest. My son told me so much about you—about your bravery, nobility, and ignorance. I am going to assume it was you who killed him, something that you will, of course, pay for."
'Wait for it.'
I growl at him, and he pricks an eyebrow at me.
"I must say. Well done. Not many would have the guts to walk out here alone. But you are not alone, are you. None of you creatures ever are. You wolves are stubborn, loyal things. I must commend you for that. But you are also despicable and unnatural. It is only civil and for the best of humanity that I kill you. Really, it’s not for me that I hunt you—it’s my civil duty to destroy as many as your kind as I can. But I need my granddaughter back so that she may be prepared to take my place once I depart from this world." He casually pulls a gun out of his waist band and points it at me. "Now, where's the pack."
'NOW!'
My pack charges into the field, and I attack the man of my nightmares.
Lovett visibly shakes himself, struggling to get Monique out of his head. I realize what she did. After our battle, she had enough strength that she was able to take over my brother's head and make him hide the knife. She then forced him to retrieve it and use it as a symbol of what we'll all be against.
'Pretty and smart.'
'Why Lovett?'
'Because he's the only one who won't have inexplicable burn marks later, and, well...because I can.'
'I'll kill you, you bitch.'
'You can't kill me without killing yourself.'
I run to my confused brother's side. He looks back and forth between his hand and the wall and the knife. He doesn't remember a thing.
"What the hell happened. What does that mean?" He asks, trying to remember anything useful, trying to make sense of all of this.
I sigh, knowing what it means. I don't know if it's because of this connection that I have with Monique or just plain rationalization but I know. "It means that Damien's father knows that our trail was fake." I sigh again and look around at my family, both blood and extended. "It means that he's coming."
'It's also your final warning.'
* * * * *
We all sit in the family room again, even Cannan who lingers in the shadows and is ignored. No one says a word after I explain what happened to Lovett. My brother seems depressed where he sits. Depressed and guilty. I want to comfort him, but I know from experience that there's nothing that anyone can say to comfort him right now.
"How long do we have?" Lunette finally asks, assuming the role of the adult in the situation of scared and confused teenagers. We need her.
"She won't tell me. She's not helping us with anything else right now."
"She said that?"
"She said that the message on the shed is our final warning. I know her. She isn't helping anymore unless she thinks that some new information will torture me as much if not more than it will help." Everyone sags into their seats and thinks. "Look," I say, knowing that any ideas that anyone might have to trick Monique will fail hopelessly. "I've worked with and talked with this thing for a couple of months now. Honestly, patience is key. Eventually, she'll get bored and let something slip so that one of us will do something to amuse her. Just be patient and act like nothing is wrong." I stand up, and Ryder rises to follow me out of the room. "For now, our best bet is to just make sure that we're all physically prepared. The rest will be left up to fate."
'Well, not fate per se.'
'Shut up.'
Ryder and I leave as Monique leaves me alone, but he gently grabs my wrist as I prepare to go up the stairs. He holds his finger up to his smiling lips and leads me to an empty sitting room on the other side of the house. A grin creeps across my face as I realize what his intentions are.
I shut the large French doors and close the curtains over them, pushing Ryder into one of the plushy, one-person chairs. This was a study years ago that my uncle spent a lot of time in. His desk is still littered with papers, and there are two chairs in one corner that Louna and Kenley used to sit in and read while their father was working. I feel a little guilty about using his old study and the chair of a child for the purpose of a make out session, but I shove the guilt down as my lips meet Ryder's and we let the pressure of the past couple of weeks flood out of us in that one kiss. I straddle him as his arms wrap around my waist and mine drape over his shoulders. The kiss deepens as our tongues begin to dance and I press my body more firmly against his, molding myself to him. He presses one hand against the small of my back, holding me firmly against him, while the other gently floats up and down my spine, sending shivers through my body. I moan and tangle my fingers in his thick hair, massaging his scalp.
We eventually pause to come up for air. "Wow," he gasps. "We should do that more often." I smile down at him and press my forehead against his, our heavy breaths mingling in the small space of air between us. We haven't really spent much quality time together lately—even he's been a little wary around me—and it's nice to just let loose for once.
"What made you want to do this?" I ask as I steady my breathing.
"I just missed you," he whispers back, love filling his features. I realize that he hasn't said anything about being in love with me since that night that we were fighting—except in my dreams. Was it just his emotions running wild or did he really mean it? If he really did mean it, does he still?
I realize neither of us has said anything for several minutes. I decide to go for it. "Hey Ryder?"
"Yeah?" he asks wistfully, his eyes gazing adoringly into mine.
I bite my lip and blush. "Remember when Lovett got taken and we had that big argument?"
He seems to realize where I'm going with this. "Yeah…" His voice is hesitant, as if he's afraid of being hurt again
"Did you mean what you said?"
He knows exactly what I'm referring to. "Every word of it."
"How did you know?" I ask cautiously. He smiles at me and I let him shift me so that I sit in his lap with my head resting against his chest. I can feel his heart beating below my cheek.
"Don't laugh at me," he warns, looking at me seriously. I nod. "That first night—the first time I Changed—under the Full Moon, I saw you as you really were. You were strong, but you were vulnerable. I think that when I first saw you in your natural form, I fell. When I first saw you after that, the human you, I was in love. You were the reason that I would wake up in the morning with a smile on my face. I would look at you and all of the darkness in the world disappeared. When I was away from you, I was sad, and I would spend that time thinking of you and how to surprise you or make you laugh the next time I saw you. When you were sad, I felt like a part of me was going to die until the next time that you smiled. In my eyes, you shined as bright as the sun, but you were as beautiful as the moon. I meant what I said to my brother—you made me want to be a better person."
I look him in the eyes. He's scared, scared that he went too far, scared that he shouldn't have said all of that. I press my lips against his again, but he's a bit reluctant at first to respond. I realize just how scared he is of rejection, afraid that I don't feel that way towards him. I open my eyes, and the way I look at him makes him melt. His lips press against mine hungrily with the same passion that I have towards him.
When we finally come back up for air, I barely separate from him, only pulling my lips away so that I can breathe. "I love you, Ryder," I whisper, my voice barely audible. But I know that he heard me.
"I love you too."
* * * * *
We leave the study after a few hours. The sun has already set in the distance. Ryder and I didn't really kiss much after I said the L-word. We hadn't really said much either. We just sat there in the darkening study, me on his lap with my head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. We had watched the sun set, but we just didn't want that moment to end. While we were in there, there was no one else, just us. There was no Voice, no Pack, no impending doom. Nothing but that little bubble that was us.
But of course it couldn't stay that way. Because we live in a world where nightmares come true, voices in your head speak the truth, and evil men hunt you down just because you're different.
Everyone we pass looks at our intertwined hands and then at our faces knowingly. I blush and wrap my arm around Ryder's so that I'm pressed even tighter against his side. He chuckles, pulls his arm from my clutches and wraps it around my shoulders. My aunt looks up as we pass the dining room to go upstairs and nods her approval.
In the werewolf world, since there are so many fewer of us than humans, we don't often meet. We come across each other every now and then, and there are clans like Cannan's, but for the most part, you stay in the Pack that you were part of since you were young. If you meet someone, even as a teenager, it's almost like you're Bonded for life to that person. In my aunt's eyes, Ryder and I are a done deal. And as the only adult figure I have left to look up to, her approval is a big deal to me.
* * * * *
We spend the next few days after that together pretty much all day. If we're alone, we're usually in the study, not just kissing, but also talking. Telling each other little things that the other didn't know or just rambling. If we're with the group hanging out or relaxing, we're holding hands or glued to each other’s side. If we're supposed to be practicing and preparing for the upcoming battle, the guys literally have to drag Ryder away—Lovett doing it gladly—and the girls have to do the same with me. We aren't even allowed to be sparring partners. We only have one thing on our minds: each other. Ryder blames teenage hormones and my beauty.
During the Full Moon, we run together, hunt together, play together. No one bothers trying to separate us. I think that everyone kind of figures that we're just trying to get as much time together as possible before it's time.
And on the last night of the Cycle, I smell them.
Ryder and I are chasing each other through the forest, racing across the leaf-littered ground, crawling under bushes and zigzagging all over the place to throw each other off. And then I pause, having caught a waft of something—of someone. It takes me a moment, but I place it, and I'm off. Now more desperate.
I turn around and race past Ryder to retrieve the Pack. I whine to alert them to find me. Ryder realizes the severity of the situation and stops playing. Everyone meets up with us, and I whine again, jerking my head in the direction that we came from, trying to translate to everyone to follow, but afraid to make too much noise so as not to alert the men of our closeness. I turn and start walking, sniffing the ground as I try to pick the scent back up. I do, and lead everyone deeper and deeper into the forest.
We arrive at a clearing. In it, tents are set up around a campfire. Men sit in little huddles or spar much as we were. Pacing the perimeter are more men. All of them are tall and muscular, wearing ridiculous suits, much like Damien's goons. And sitting there by the fire, eyes closed as he listens to his servants, is Damien's father.
A low growl builds in Lunette's throat next to me, and I huff at her. We can't let them know that we're here, not yet. We were planning like we would fight them as humans, not wolves. And watching them right now might give us the upper hand. On the other hand, we may not have a better chance than this one. They'll be surprised by us. We might be able to take them. There are 12 of us and about 40 of them. We might not be able to take them later. Wolf form is the best for us.
'What do you guys think?' I ask. To Monique, I ask, 'Are we supposed to fight now.'
'There will be a different outcome now than if you wait. Either way, it will be an eye for an eye—a life for a life.'
My Pack sends me conflicted opinions, but the greater opinion is to fight now. I get an idea.
'Everyone wait here. Keep Louna, Kenley, and Lunette here. Wait for my signal and charge.'
'Are you going to do something stupid again?' Lovett asks.
I choose not to answer and instead leave them and walk around to the opposite side of the clearing. I stick my snout only through the underbrush so that my Pack will be ready. And then I howl.
All of the heads in the clearing turn toward me, a lone wolf who pushed through the foliage to sit down before them all. Guns, swords, and daggers are pulled from waist belts and sheaths and pointed at me. Damien's father walks through all of his men, weaponless.
'Wait for it.'
"Ah, I take it that you would be Louve. Men, don't shoot her…yet. He stares at me with great interest. My son told me so much about you—about your bravery, nobility, and ignorance. I am going to assume it was you who killed him, something that you will, of course, pay for."
'Wait for it.'
I growl at him, and he pricks an eyebrow at me.
"I must say. Well done. Not many would have the guts to walk out here alone. But you are not alone, are you. None of you creatures ever are. You wolves are stubborn, loyal things. I must commend you for that. But you are also despicable and unnatural. It is only civil and for the best of humanity that I kill you. Really, it’s not for me that I hunt you—it’s my civil duty to destroy as many as your kind as I can. But I need my granddaughter back so that she may be prepared to take my place once I depart from this world." He casually pulls a gun out of his waist band and points it at me. "Now, where's the pack."
'NOW!'
My pack charges into the field, and I attack the man of my nightmares.