Streak of Black

Ryder and I walk slowly into Damien’s mansion, creeping quietly up the grand stair case. I can hear rain pounding outside, but Ryder and I are completely dry. I glance up at him and admire his bare, well-sculpted body, only partially covered by his loose-fitting sweatpants that he usually uses for pajamas or when training. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I’m in my werewolf form.

We find a stairwell further down the hall and through a door that lead up into the heart of the mansion. Following my nose, we silently ascend the steps to the floor that we were held captive on. We follow the trail to our hallway as thunder booms outside. A baby’s sobs can be heard beneath a blanket laid haphazardly over a body on the floor at the end of the hall.

Cautiously we hurry over to the body. Using my teeth, I pull away the rough, grey blanket only to be met with the sight of Damien’s father. A wide sneer is painted across his already hideous face, and a steel gun resides in his hands. He reaches up and pulls the trigger before we can run.

It takes two shots to send us to our demise—one in Ryder’s gut and one in my throat. Having been howling in fury at Damien’s father for shooting at my mate, I’m cut off by the bullet wound.

Ryder immediately falls to the floor in excruciating agony, and I join him, whimpering in pain. Damien’s father stands, walking away and leaving a wicked snicker echoing in my head in his wake. The mansion disappears, taking the snicker with it, leaving Ryder and I by a creek near our home that we like to visit together sometimes.

“Louve,” he whispers in a pain-filled voice. “I love you.”

'Ryder,' I reply in his head, 'I—'

The dream ends, and I awaken in a cold sweat. I jolt up and immediately grab my throat with both hands, exploring the smooth skin to ensure that it’s both bullet and blood free. Next to me in the double bed, Nyx, my recently discovered cousin, stirs. Her eyes open, and she gazes at me in a sleepy daze with the innocent, trusting eyes of a child. “Wha’s ‘appened?” she asks groggily.

“Shh, I’m just going for some water,” I reassure her. “Go back to sleep.”

She nods, already back asleep before her head hits the pillow. I quietly slip out of the bed, stopping by the nearest bathroom for a rag to wash my face. I stay as quiet as possible, trying to avoid waking anyone else—not even Ryder. After slipping in an out of the kitchen, I sneak past where Cannan lies asleep on the couch and out the door with a tall glass of freezing cold water.

“What was that one for?” I demand of Monique; my voice is hoarse, and I'm too exhausted to fight but upset by the dream nonetheless. A shameful tear slides down my cheek, and I angrily wipe it away. I decide to revert to speaking to her in my head so as not to awaken any of my Pack mates.

'Is my current state of panic and anxiety not enough for you? I thought you’d be jumping with joy at the jumble of nerves I’ve become!'

'Good morning to you too. Enjoying the pretty sunrise?' Her voice is as patronizing and condescending as ever, and it infuriates me!

'No, not really. I feel like I’m about to vomit and that dream didn’t help matters any! Don’t you have anything better to do?'

'That was a stupid question. No, I don’t. You’re much too amusing to leave for too long, and I really don’t want to miss out on tonight even though I could very easily conjure up an instant replay later that we can both enjoy.' She begins cackling. 'And just for the record, I don’t jump for anything.'

'Why did you send me that dream? Is something going to happen to Ryder.'

'Aww! Isn’t that cute? You were afraid for your yummy little mate, weren’t you, Louve?'

'Shut up—you know the answer!'

'I do, I just love taunting you.'

'Answer me, Monique! Is something going to happen to Ryder?'

'Desperate, are we? Well, I can neither confirm nor deny that something will happen to your precious little mate, but I will tell you that if it does, it won’t be tonight.'

I sigh with relief. “Good,” I whisper.

'So are you ready for tonight?'

'You know the answer to that: of course I'm not. I’m terrified. I know that Ryder’ll be okay, but will everyone else be?'

'Look, you’d better stop worrying about everyone else and worry about yourself. It’s going to be a very long night—for all of you, so you better be ready.'

'Sorry that I have a soul and a conscious.'

'Yes, I am as well. It would all be so much easier if you didn’t feel guilt.'

“Oh, shut up!” I cringe at the loud echo that my annoyed shout makes in the early morning forest. “That was loud,” I whisper, sinking into myself.

'Was it? I had no idea, Captain Obvious. While I’m not sorry to have offended you, you, you better fix yourself. Here comes some yummy company!'

'What are you—'

“Louve?” I look up and see Ryder approaching me from the direction of the road. “What’s wrong? Why are you awake?” I immediately take note of his flushed face and grow curious as to what has him up so early—Ryder doesn’t usually rise from the world of the sleeping until breakfast clatters onto the table.

“Nothing, I just had another nightmare. Don’t worry about it—nothing new. Just come sit with me?” He smiles and immediately obeys, sitting beside me, kissing my forehead, and holding me tight in his strong, warm, comforting arms.

“What was this nightmare about?” he asks softly, resting his cheek in my hair. I feel better just having him so close to me.

“Just another one about tonight.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he squeezes me gently when I shake my head. Another tear slips out of my eye, and he quickly wipes it away.

I clear my throat and look up at him, being greeted by the kind smile that always makes me feel safe. “What has you up so early? You look upset and super exhausted.” I try to read his emotions, but since he and I started practicing mental shielding soon after we returned from Damien’s manor, both of us have gotten pretty good, and he’s able to block me from his feelings of pain.

He looks and pulls away from me, leaning against one of the wooden pillars of the porch. “I visited my mom.”

I look up into his normally calm blue eyes, turned stormy with anger and red with pain, but he still won’t meet my gaze. I try to keep my voice gentle and calm. “What happened? Why did you go?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” His voice sounds choked, and he swallows before continuing. “I guess I just figured ‘Well, there’s a god chance I’m about to die, so I may as well tie up loose ends.’” He rubs his exhausted eyes with the balls of his hands. “Needless to say, it didn’t work out too well.”

I scoot closer and comfortingly rub his arm. He flinches, having been locked in his thoughts, but he doesn’t pull away. “Just tell me what happened.”

He sighs. “Well it seems as though the mama’s boy has gone flocking back to her side—Robin was home when I got there. As it turns out, a lot has happened since I disappeared. It turns out that the bastard went AWOL after we visited that day. I guess my mom called Robin to come home, but he wouldn’t let me get further than the front door. I swear he came out of nowhere and started chewing me out, claiming that that bitch had told him that I had beaten the bastard up, told him to do the same to her, called her a self-centered prissy bitch, beat her to the ground too, and left.” He looks at me with big sorrowful eyes, but I glance down and see his fists clenched with anger. “You were there, Louve. You know that it definitely didn’t go down that way.”

I give him a long hug that he doesn’t want to release me from. I gladly accept the containment of his arms and gently stroke his back. “I know,” I whisper with a muffled voice due to my cheek being pressed against his chest. “But at least your step dad left. Isn’t that what you wanted when we went back after you were Turned?”

“It is—technically—but not like this. Not when I get blamed for and accused of things that I didn’t even do. And now my brother hates my guts! He never liked my mother either—although he never acted the way I did towards her because he's a 'good person'—but now he’s acting like her freaking lap dog! He told me that she’s really sick and needs us both to be there for her but that I could only stay if I apologized. He said that my only other option was to get the hell out of his house before he called the cops on me. So, obviously, I chose to leave before trespassing was added to my rap sheet. Well, before I was charged with it again.”

I sigh, not fond of hearing about his past. “And are you okay now?” I ask, stepping around the topic of his criminal record that he once told me included possession, battery, and driving under the influence.

His eyes look brimmed with tears, but he holds it in just like he always does—he would never let me see him cry. His face is pained and distant as he stares out into the sky. Despite the rising sun, it’s still kind of dark, so the glow is sprinkled with the distant stars. "You know,” he says, his voice not his own, “in town, you can never see the stars."

"Are you okay, Ryder?" I ask gently, taking his hand.

He evades the question that we both know the unfortunate answer to. "They really are beautiful, but you can never see them with the street lamps, especially with human eyes. I could barely see them when I went to see my brother just now. I never look up at the stars just to look at them..."

"Ryder..?"

"...I really should stop and admire the more beautiful things in life sometimes..."

"Ryder, are you okay?”

He looks at me with miserable eyes. "Can we just stay out here for a little bit? I don't really feel like going back inside."

"Of course."

“And can you please not tell the others about last night? I don’t want them to pity me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I whisper.

We sit out there in silence for about an hour before I fall back into the dark clutches of sleep, able to relax next to Ryder, knowing that he’ll never let anything hurt me.