I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

Fever

After several attempts, he set his jaw and looked around the camp with narrowed eyes. I followed his gaze, my sight blurry. I saw figures shakily standing, holding their heads.

Jeremiah grabbed me by the scruff and led me away from the camp. I followed on unsteady legs. My head ached with a fierce pounding that felt as if all my blood was congealed in my skull. I shook my head to clear it, only for the pounding feeling to worsen.

Sound returned slowly as we walked, and my steps became less wobbly. I followed Jeremiah closely as we navigated thin alleyways to avoid large groups of skinwalkers. Finally, we arrived at the front steps of our makeshift town hall. Jeremiah pushed open the heavy doors and muffled words left his mouth as he spoke to the skinwalkers caught inside.

The room cleared immediately. Wary, nervous, and sometimes scared eyes surveyed my black fur that so rarely made an appearance in the camp. When the large dining area was empty, Jeremiah closed the doors and silence once again fell on the room.

I felt my bones break and rearrange, and my fur receded as I changed forms. My hands covered my face as I stood upright and waited for the last of my form to recede. I smoothed my hair back out of my face and released a shaky breath.

"What happened?" Jeremiah asked sternly. His arms were folded across his chest, and he stood some distance away from me. He eyed me with a calculated gaze that I hadn't seen from him since our first meeting. "What set you off?"

"It wasn't me," I answered truthfully as I walked around the bar and grabbed a dish rag from the towel rack. I wet the cloth and cleaned the blood from my ears.

Jeremiah scoffed. "Who else-"

"Mai-coh," I answered coldly as I dragged the wet cloth across my skin. My skin was tender and flushed, and everything still sounded somewhat muffled. A weight rested on my shoulders as if the weight of all the bonds I had corralled were pressing down on me. I rolled my head on my neck and felt pinprick pain, like the lingering feeling of fangs.

Jeremiah's eyes widened and he padded towards the bar, his steps light and cautious. "Him? How did- but..." He shook his head as he thought about the white wolf that I had shared scarce information about. The same wolf his former alpha had been hallucinating, which led to his inevitable death. "How did his anger affect us?"

"Not just us..." I said quietly as I wrung the rag. Discolored water dripped into the sink, and I turned the faucet on to clear it out. "Everyone. All the skinwalkers."

Jeremiah fell silent and several long moments passed. "... Why?" he finally asked. He leaned against one of the round tables, his wide, brown eyes fixated on the ground.

"Because I pissed him off," I said as I threw the rag in the sink. I rested my palms on the edge of the counter and leaned forward, staring into the sink. "He wants- he wants to cause the apocalypse. For some ungodly reason, he thinks that's how to keep our species alive," I snapped. My grip on the edge of the counter tightened. "I've seen what happens if the demons win the apocalypse. They'll wipe out everything."

"Then why try to cause it? Why risk it?"

"I don't know... as far as we know, the angels are trying to stop it too. They've been trying to stop the demons from breaking the Seals."

Jeremiah nods along with my words, remembering our case with the Witnesses. "But... if the demons want to destroy everything, isn't he siding with the angels? And the angels want to stop the apocalypse from happening-"

"I don't know," I snapped, glaring over my shoulder into space. "I don't know what he's planning, because he never tells me. But whatever it is, it doesn't make any sense." I balled my hands into fists and pressed my knuckles against my eyes with a hiss. "I blocked him out for now. Whatever he's feeling, we shouldn't feel it... but I don't know how long I can keep him out for."