??A Howl In The Night??
?(she’s Mine)?
?Chapter 18?
Death Just Seems To Love Me
~ Mona ~
Scalding hot, unfamiliar blood is racing through my veins.
This is not the first time I have wished for death, but this time, the desire is much, much stronger. Every breath I take allows icy cold air to enter my lungs, freezing my insides and battling the heat that is enveloping me. I experience the extreme burning, then the excruciating cold. I am bathed in excruciating agony, every second pure torture.
Thinking is impossible, hurt being the only emotion consuming my mind.
My tears are like little ice pellets, dripping down my cheeks as I writhe about. Once again, an all-too-familiar sense of doom impends upon me, entering through the fire and ice. I am a lost cause. Death is here waiting once again. Why does he seem to want me so badly?
Then, a splash of a soothing substance hits my tongue, slipping down my throat like melted chocolate. All tranquility it brings vanquishes, exploding in my stomach like fireworks, only accenting my suffering. What sort of medicine is this? It only makes things worse.
Just let it take me.
Let me succumb to the darkness.
But a warm, deliciously strong body refuses to release its hold on my skin, two strong hands latching onto my consciousness like suction cups. I desperately try to sink into the dark depths, temporarily forgetting everything. What do I really have to return to? Not true love, a family, or even friendship. An infatuated werewolf doesn’t count, by the way, although a sharp feeling stabs my stomach at the thought.
Do I really want to leave him? Is deserting him what I really want?
The forbidden question is now entertained by my delirious mind, and I am unable to avoid it. Do I love him?
My heart pumping, I begin to regain my vigor after only thinking about him. His perfect, statuesque face dances in my memory, his sparkling emerald eyes peering in my thoughts. Everything about him ripples with strength and masculinity. A blush almost forces itself to my cheeks when I realize I am relishing the image.
I quickly stuff my attraction and desire back into the corner of my mind, avoiding the disarming question at hand. I have only been with Xavier for a couple of days, yet he is affecting me so much… but it must be the effect of mating. I can’t be in love, when only a short time before I had never even talked to a guy. Even though he is so enchantingly handsome, distracting me even in this state, I couldn’t have let myself fade away to this alien emotion. I couldn’t have already given in, after barely waging a fight.
For some strange reason, I feel myself begin to lighten. The heat and heart-wrenching cold recedes, and an almost pleasurable experience snakes into my chest. My limbs feel weak and elastic-like, almost like they have just been stretched, my face likewise. It is like the relief you experience after a workout, weariness coupled with a raw satisfaction. The hands wrapped around me release, and I can feel a gaze searing my skin. Worry is emanating off the person, surrounding me like a blanket. At least somebody cares about me.
Not quite thinking straight, my hand reaches up to calm the creature, man or beast, to lift the burden they are carrying. As I touch a head of hair, my hand nearly shrieks in delight at the pure luxury I am fingering. It is the smoothest hair I have ever felt, long and slightly wispy. Instantly, I realize who this person has to be.
Maybe it won’t be so bad to live a little bit longer. I hate to admit it, but he has already morphed into someone I will want live for.
***
I wake to the sweet sound of birds chirping in the breeze.
My eyes slowly adjust to the blinding light streaming through the window, my breathing deep and relaxed. Consciousness returns to me, and with it, remembrance. Last night, I almost died. Maybe I’m actually dead now, and don’t realize it.
Is this heaven?
I shrug off the velvety covers, slipping my feet from the mattress to the cold, hard floor. My surroundings are exactly like the room the pack had given me, with a beautiful view of the forestry and wildlife. Maybe I am a ghost, forbidden to enter the afterlife because I attempted to gain immortality.
Padding to the doorway, I gaze at the hallway, a mirror image of the one at the place I am hesitant to call “home”. Haziness fills my vision, and I stumble along the walls in a random direction. I needed to find somebody. Anybody.
To tell me where the crap I am.
Unintelligible whispers are floating about, voices pounding. My head is reeling with strange sounds and thoughts, screams and laughter. My feet, however, continue on its unknown path, curiosity in each step. For some reason, I feel very different, and as I look down at my feet, questions fill me. Why are they so far away? Why are they a little bit bigger than I remembered?
Walking nearer to my random destination, I begin to hear low murmurs, the same voices inside my head growing stronger. Once I focus, I can begin to detect words, a conversation flowing.
But most of all is the smells.
I can smell the dust, the air, and the ghastly smell of my clothes with sharpness and clarity. But even stronger is the aroma of three mysterious objects, each more breathtaking than the last. One is like peppermint and the other like a delicious, ripe banana. But the last is the one that is most wonderful; a strange combination of flavors I can’t distinguish, yet intoxicating all the same. In an instant, I feel a strange bond to this smell, making it unlike the others. In a hurry, my feet begin to run with excitement, fleeing towards the source.
Everything begins to savagely envelop my senses, a barrage of sound, smell, and breathtakingly rich sight. The light blinds me as I almost gallop into the sunlight, entering the garden. Red, blue and yellow mix to create a spectrum of colors, shown on the brilliant flowers. I barely realize that this is the garden.
Three figures are sitting in the warm grass, gazing into the baby blue sky.
I walk up to the last figure, smiling warmly. I never thought I could feel this happy before. “Xavier,” I emit, my voice barely above a whisper. Strangely, it is as if I am singing, my words having a musical quality I used to envy in Xavier’s voice.
The magnificent man turns to me, his face devoid of emotion except for a small tear running down his face. His eyes slowly turn to look at me, and the others follow his gaze. Beautiful emerald eyes, streaked with such sorrow, morph immediately into pure amazement as he surveys me. They crawl over me, starting from my head to my toes, scanning me for reasons unknown. Then he finally speaks.
“Mona, is that you?” he gasps, “You changed even more since I left you thirty minutes ago!” Xavier grasps his head unbelievingly. “I can’t even recognize you anymore, except by the smell.”
“What happened?” I ask curiously, fingering a strand of my red hair in my slender hands. It did seem to be much longer, stretching past my chest instead of cutting off at the shoulders. My nails aren’t stumpy either, at a perfect, French-manicure length. Even my face feels different, more sharp and angular.
“You didn’t look in the mirror?” the crystal-haired man beside him grins, “That’s a shame.”
“I’m so sorry, Mona,” A figure whirls into the garden, hurriedness in his steps. Ray slides up to me, past Xavier in the grass, “I didn’t think of the risks involved when I tried to convert you. I should’ve told you…”
“Why are you still here?” Xavier immediately snarls at the almost identical werewolf, “You were supposed to leave by morning.” Tension ripples between them, ice in the air.
“I couldn’t leave without apologizing to Mona,” he says angrily, “the guilt would ruin me.”
“That’s the point, idi0t,” Xavier snaps, “I don’t want to look at you ever again, anyway.”
I have had enough. “Ray did nothing wrong,” I fire at him, “I knew the risks. I made the choice. Ray shouldn’t have to leave the pack because of me. I’m here, aren’t I?” My words float in the breeze towards Xavier’s unwilling ears. Indignation pierces me, emanating so everyone can see it.
“But… I almost thought you wouldn’t be,” Xavier stands up regally, and then reaches out with one finger and strokes my cheek. Passion erupts under his touch, boiling beneath my skin. I nearly choke at the sudden wave of desire that almost overwhelms me. Why does his touch affect me so?
The werewolf sweeps me into a hug, which somehow seems gentler. His crushing embrace doesn’t hurt like it sometimes does; only comforting me. Sparks of warmth erupt, and suddenly I feel safer than ever before. Is this what a true hug is supposed to feel like…?
I subconsciously close my eyes, swept away by his evident devotion. Usually I would feel angry at his easily displayed longing, but now, I don’t really care.
I almost lost him.
“Ooh,” a teasing voice erupts from behind us, “we get to watch a love scene.” Hurriedly I jump away from him, suddenly aware of how my face had been moving closer to his. My lips are aching to be touched, stinging with disappointment at the chance that was lost. Even my body is fighting me, begging me to give in to my lust. But I must be stronger.
Jake laughs at my embarrassment, being able to see right through my guise. “Look,” he continues jeering, “she’s blushing.” I cover my face with my hands, hoping that Xavier didn’t catch my tomato red cheeks. Wes is chuckling also, Ray rather hesitant to join in. He looks bedridden, bedraggled with sadness and… annoyance? He doesn’t seem to feel very guilty, disguising this strange fact under humility. I can almost spot a tidbit of triumph and pride searing through him as he looks at me, biting to be let through.
I can tell Xavier is melting as he turns his gaze towards the accused, softening as he looks at the almost identical copy of his face. I am trying desperately to stare holes into Xavier’s head, willing him strongly to accept the wily werewolf slumping beside me.
Finally, almost regretfully, he nods. Ray lights up like a light bulb, racing back into the mansion like a little rabbit, a blur of energy. I smile up at Xavier with approval.
“So, Mona,” Wes begins, smiling flirtatiously, “what can you do? How do you feel as a Spier?”
I only stare at him for a few moments, completely devoid of recognition. “Remember?” he probes, looking at me with concern.
“I’m not… dead?” I question softly, looking once more at my hands. They definitely seem real.
But I can’t be alive. Not after what I had been through the night before.
“Of course not!” he laughs, “You’re as alive as I am.”
Maybe my suffering was only a dream. Maybe I didn’t truly experience the torture. “What do you mean?”
“What abilities do you have?” Wes is relentless, buzzing with energy, “Can you run super-fast?”
I guess I am alive.
Xavier notices my sudden awkwardness and glides to my side. His fingers reach for my hand, but I quickly snap it away before he is able to clutch it. Wes grins.
“Just run somewhere. Anywhere close by,” he gestures to the wide outdoors, “and think about getting there quickly.” His instruction is clear as crystal, yet quite embarrassing. I don’t want to run in front of these super-werewolves. I’ll look stupid.
Xavier gives me a slight nudge, and I give it, starting off on a slow chug to a nearby tree. Dirt kicks into my face from my slow jog, and I begin to wish for a hat.
“Pick it up!” Jake calls, laughing as I start to zoom with my strangely not-stumpy legs towards the goal. My breathing is heavy and labored as I run towards the bark, and it seems to get further away with each stride.
Another second and Xavier is by my side, laughing quietly. “You don’t have super speed,” he informs me, “that’s for sure. You did run about forty miles per hour though, which is pretty fast.”
FORTY?!
Struck silent with wonder, I let him lead me back to the others. “Cool!” Jake smiles, “you’ve improved, though you are not quite ‘super’.”
“Strength?” Wes suggests slyly, and I have to grin.
“There is no way I am going to arm wrestle one of you. You guys will drive my hand through the table and into the ground. There is no way.”
“What about that tree?” Jake points at the gigantic trunk a couple feet away, “try to break it!” I stare at him, dubious. Me, break that monster?
I walk towards it, and encircle it with my slender arms. With force I didn’t know I had, I squeezed it tightly, causing cracks to run through it. But I can’t do more, no matter how hard I tug.
“Not super strength, either,” Wes notes, pulling me from the plump tree, “what do you think, Mona?” His beautiful green eyes are sparkling, so similar to the ring on my finger.
“Well, I can smell,” I shrug, “and see far away.” Definitely that is a plus, although I am rather confused. Why are they testing me for Werewolf abilities, when Ray converted me into a Spier? He told me that the only thing a Spier can do is conjure spirit spears and live forever. I would have to build my own strength.
The wind brushes past me as Xavier surprisingly nods. “That’s one,” he smiles, “and her appearance has definitely changed, so that makes two.”
I examine my slender fingers, and perfect toes. “My appearance changed?” I finally ask, trying to make the pieces come together. “Why? I thought that only happens to werewolves.”
“Well, see,” Xavier tries to explain, “I sort of… intervened at your Awakening.” He looks down at the soft green grass, almost seeming ashamed. “It was failing.”
“Failing? I was going to die?” Alarm sears through me at his words.
“You were this close,” he holds two fingers barely more than a hairsbreadth apart, “to dying.” His face grows slightly red, sadness washing over him like a flood. The air feels even colder than when Ray and Xavier were standing across from each other, chilling me to the bone.
“Then what?” I ask.
“I used a drop of my blood,” he says slowly, “and tried to convert you into a werewolf.” Doom impends upon me, anger rippling through the thick atmosphere.
“WHAT?!” I nearly shriek, “I don’t want to be a werewolf!” It is strange to think this, especially at my young age, but I want children. Becoming a werewolf would make me unable to have one of my own.
“Why?” Jake asks, “There’s not much difference.” He shrugs, laying belly up in the dirt, staring at the spotted skies.
Wes seems to guess at my concern, his eyes widening slightly, then shoots me a wink. “I’ll keep your secret safe,” he mouths, grinning like crazy. He seems to find it amusing that a cold person like me would want kids.
“Anyway,” Xavier continues, “you slept for almost 20 hours. It’s almost nightfall.” I stare at the hints of pink and orange shooting across the sky, the sun beginning to drop towards the earth.
“How do you conjure a spirit spear?” I ask, getting right to the point. Xavier shakes his head.
“You have to learn that on your own. As a Spier, it is important to meditate to immerse yourself in your spirit, and then it will be easier to call upon a spirit spear. If you are to be part of our pack, you will have to develop this talent,” Xavier informs me.
“But I thought I was already part of your group!” I protest, almost feeling excluded.
“Not part of the six,” Xavier clarifies, “but with us all the same.”
I huff, angered. Usually I would be happy to hear those words, but for some reason, it only irks me now. “I’m going to go rest,” I say dismissively, retreating back into the mansion. This is almost too much for me to take in. Xavier moves to follow me, but I hold up a hand and he ceases moving.
As soon as I am away from the watchful eyes of Wes, Jake, and Xavier, I hurriedly examine my body with my eager eyes. I am suddenly excited to see how my form has changed. With quick steps, I race into my room, shutting and locking my door.
Everything smells so sweet now, the little pot of flowers by the door tingling my senses, enriching the room. If I look hard at each petal, I can find each tiny detail, every mistake that separates it from being perfect. At first it almost hurt, but now this strange enhancement feels normal.
I cross over to the mirror, and close my eyes. Should I look? I am afraid now to see how I have changed. What if it is for the worse?
But when my eyelashes flutter as they creep open, I find that I shouldn’t have worried. A whole different person is staring in the mirror. There is no way that is me. The mirror must somehow being dysfunctional.
I laugh, slightly, then walk over to the bathroom and look into that mirror. Anger begins to seep over me as the same strange person stares back. What is going on? Why am I not the one shown?
I race to another mirror, and am alarmed to see the same girl standing in front of me. There are no other mirrors to turn to. I am trapped with this beautiful woman that strikes incredible jealousy in my heart.
This can’t be me, for that doll-like girl is flawless.
Long, ruby red hair dances past her shoulder, smooth and not frizzy at all. Her face is in a perfect heart shape, with a pair of exceedingly bright green eyes and luscious red lips. Her body is slim and much taller than mine, about five inches added to her long, enviously curvy legs. She has a little bit more of a chest than I do, and long arms with slender fingers. Her skin is tanned and smooth.
But why is she wearing the same clothes as I was yesterday? And why do I see some stark similarities between me and her; in our eyes, hair, and face?
I reach up with one hand and slowly touch my lips. The strange, breathtaking girl follows suit, mirroring my actions. I smile, and she smiles also, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. Pulling my hair, I watch as she copies me, in perfect sync with my movements.
Who is this girl behind the glass? She obviously knows what I am thinking, to be able to copy my movements so gracefully. Every move she makes is like a ballerina’s step, doing the exact same thing as I am with an added beauty. Everything about her is beautiful. She outshines a girl like Sidney easily, drawing all the attention. She is nothing like me.
Suddenly unnerved by her, I back off from the mirror, going to sit on my wonderful bed. My body sinks into it, suddenly surrounded by the deep mattress. It is hard to believe that I can be special, someone that can benefit Xavier’s pack. What I can do now is amazing.
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