Gaze (✔)

Chapter Fifteen: Fractures

(Running out of new people to dedicate to, any silent readers want to pipe up and leave a comment? :) :) :) I'll give you imaginary cookies)

An update? And on time, you say? Preposterous. 

Better believe it. Here's chapter fifteen, and it didn't take me a month to write it ;) Thank you for your lovely comments, and enjoy.

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Clara took a deep breath, then another one, then another, until she had calmed her erratic heart rate. Despite her relentless dizziness and pain from the blow to her head, she had stood up and crossed the room, leaving her father sitting on the bed alone. She faced the wall, clutching her head in her hands as she tried to make sense of things. The pounding in her skull didn’t exactly help.

“Clara -” he started.

“Don’t. Just…give me a moment.” She managed, staring at the white wall in front of her. She examined the peeling paint with distant interest, trying to focus her thoughts. Too many things were happening at once, too many worries crammed into her mind and screaming for her attention, even in this silent room. She couldn’t at all fathom how her father was alive, either. She knew her mother would not have helped him, and Sam would have no part in it. Yet escaping a pack of bloodthirsty wolves alone? Impossible.

That wasn’t the only aspect of her father’s life she was curious about. He was a hunter. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised – both Clara and Luke had taken the same path after escaping from the wolves as children.

“How are you alive?” she said, her voice close to a whisper. She turned around and stared at his feet, hesitant to face him again. She didn’t want to start believing that he was really here, and then have it taken away so cruelly if it was all a dream.

“I got out.” She saw him shrug with the words in her peripheral vision. She met his eyes this time, perhaps unintentionally sending him a scathing glare.

“How?”

To her irritation, he smiled slightly at her question. “The same way you did. The night before they were going to kill me I managed to get out of there…and I ran. I decided that no matter how much I used to love Sandra, I wasn’t going to die for her to be happy.”

Clara studied him carefully, doubting his words. There must have been something else, someone helping him to escape. But nobody in the pack would do it, and a human intruder would certainly have been noticed. She let it slide, however.

“And the Faction? Is that what you’ve been doing for the past five years?” this sounded a little more like an accusation. Truthfully, she did feel a little angry that he hadn’t sought her out until now, the worst possible moment. Did he not care that he let them struggle alone in the world as children?

His expression darkened slightly as if he sensed her inner turmoil. “I’ve been doing the same thing as you: hunting werewolves. But don’t think I abandoned you, Clara. I kept an eye on you and your brother this entire time.”

The mention of Luke reminded her of the situation at hand, and her eyes widened.

“Luke…”

Her father continued on, not seeming to hear her exhalation. “And the Faction – I told you: I created it for you and your brother. To exterminate those monsters for good, so that your story will be the last of its kind. And you’re going to help me.”

She shook her head, vehemently saying: “What is it you think I can help you with? I’m done hunting!”

His smile was sad. “I know you are, sweetie,” the words sounded wrong coming from the man who had set up an entire organisation of hunters. “I know all about your time in the Maddox pack, and your knowledge of them is what will help us. They’ll be our first target.”