Gaze (✔)

Chapter Seven: Thrown to the Wolves

Chapter Seven: Thrown to the Wolves

Clara hadn’t been allowed to leave the house at all for the past few days.

It had been tough staying cooped up at all hours, but Dylan was usually with her. She didn’t mind his company at all anymore – he was a refreshing break from the seriousness of the current situation.

Wyatt was away frequently meeting with his pack members, and never looked very happy when he returned in the evening. It seemed that his “talks” weren’t doing much to convince the other wolves that she wasn’t the enemy anymore.

Of course, she couldn’t blame them. A few weeks ago, she would have murdered a werewolf among them immediately. But now, she realised she didn’t want to hurt them anymore. It was an attachment she had fought through restless nights in their house, but still: she knew she couldn’t return to her life of hunting.

Luke had been calling frequently to the mobile phone she had “borrowed” – which turned out to be Dylan’s. Needless to say, he wasn’t very happy about this. She had ignored most of his calls after answering the first few only revealed that he wanted the same thing: for her to come home. And she wanted to. It was a growing desire, to flee this place and rid Wyatt of her.

Despite his refusal to admit it, she had become a problem. He was arguing with his own pack for her sake, and her guilt was only building. She cared about him – maybe it was their mate bond, or maybe it was her own feelings, but she didn’t want to see him get hurt because of her.

It was when Wyatt came home with a split lip and a bruise across his cheek that she made up her mind.

“Are you okay?” she blurted the words with more concern than she’d intended in her tone, hurrying over to where he stood in the front room. He attempted a smile when he saw her, but grimaced at the pain it caused his lip.

Without thinking, she placed her hands gently on his face, turning it so she could see the bruise fully.

“I’m fine.” He replied with a sigh, taking her hands in his own and lowering them. “It’ll heal by morning.” Dylan walked in, raising an eyebrow at their proximity before he spotted Wyatt’s – minor – injuries.

“Whoa, what happened to you, man?” he asked, scratching his chin. Clara noticed that he still held her hands tight in his, but didn’t comment.

“Someone wasn’t exactly happy to follow orders.” The Alpha responded bitterly. Dylan nodded in understanding.

“Howard?”

Wyatt nodded his reply. “And his friends didn’t exactly intervene.” He growled. As if sensing Clara’s unease, “Just forget about it, he’ll be half way to the next pack by now.”

Once Dylan had left, she turned to face him, wincing at the sight of his cut. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt.” She told him. “For causing all of this. If it weren’t for me, your pack would be fine -”

He narrowed his eyes at her, silently telling her to stop talking. “None of this is your fault,” he said. A pause. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.” She quietly agreed to this, the weight of the decision she had made making her throat tighten. She held his hand all the way up the stairs, to where she turned abruptly into her bedroom, closing the door swiftly behind her.

*     *     *

Clara waited an hour before she got ready. She sat on her bed the entire time, fiddling with the phone she had snagged from Dylan earlier in the day – just in case. Besides, he hardly used it.

Once she was sure that Wyatt was in his bedroom, and probably asleep, she pulled on her boots. They were still muddy from her last venture through the forest, but sturdy nonetheless. Next she zipped up her dark jacket over her blue shirt and scraped her tangled blonde hair into a ponytail. Besides the clothes she had purchased with Dylan, she didn’t have any belongings here – nothing to encumber her. She was going to need to run, fast.

Without any more hesitation, she opened her door slowly, praying it wouldn’t make a noise. It didn’t. She crept out into the hallway, fighting the urge to run before she was caught. She clutched the phone tighter in her hand as she walked, treading carefully on the stairs.

She reached the dark ground floor quickly, noticing to her relief that it was empty. Just as she was heading for the door, the phone buzzed in her hand. She stared at it with disbelief for a moment, before recognising the number as her brothers. He had oddly perfect timing. She ducked into the kitchen before answering, simultaneously looking around for something useful.

“Clara!” Luke yelled through the phone. “Why the hell haven’t you been answering? I thought you were -”

“I’m fine,” she whispered urgently. “But I need you to pick me up as soon as you can get here.” He paused for a moment, and she swore she could hear an engine in the background.

“I’m sort of…on my way already.” He admitted. “When you stopped answering my calls, I decided to go and get you myself.” She sighed with exasperation. Of course he did.

“Alright.” She rattled off general directions she had memorised from their trip to the mall. She wasn’t sure if they were very accurate, but hoped he would get the picture.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He promised, before hanging up.

She was left on her own in the silence as she found what she needed: a knife. It wasn’t much, designed for kitchen use, but it would have to do. She wasn’t sure what kind of trouble she would run into tonight.

She wasted no more time, and headed straight for the door. Just before she stepped outside, she couldn’t help the glance she spared for the house. She might actually miss it.

Wyatt’s property was placed in a large clearing in the woods, with a single path only large enough for one car leading out of it. She headed straight for the trees, ducking slightly as she crossed the open space. It was a cold night, as most were in Maine’s autumn, but the snow hadn’t yet fallen.

She sighed with relief once she was under the trees, amazed that she had made it so far. It was a lot darker under the canopy, but gaps in the leaves above gave her some guidance. With the phone in her back pocket and knife in hand, she ran through the forest with as much speed as she could muster, striding over the undergrowth with careful footing. She knew she was heading in the direction of the road, but had no idea how far it was.

After about ten minutes, she was down to a fast walk, her muscles tired from pushing her speed. In her tired state, she didn’t notice the rustling in the undergrowth around her until a growl sounded through the area.

She spun around, holding the knife out in front of her. She took a step back as her enemy approached. The animal was large – definitely a werewolf. He bared his teeth at her as he stalked forward. After a moment, he was flanked by two more. Clara’s heart raced as she realised she was outnumbered. Three against one would be damn near impossible.

But to her horror, she noticed another three come out of the woods around her. There were six of them, each growling and snapping their teeth with anticipation. They would rip her apart, and all she had was a kitchen knife.

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This chapter is very short - sorry about that. Still, I hope you liked it :) The next one is almost finished so I should have it up soon.

Dedications go to commenters, so it's @Juliette17 for this chapter! :)