Outcasts

[22]

Humans weren't the only restless ones, though. Anita and Piper were constantly searching for more information about the kitsune and chupacabra, but even with the mass amount of money and tools at their disposal that came straight from Romeo's private account, they were nowhere near close enough to discover who those mysterious figures were. Connor was in a constant state of distress, constantly trying to prepare us for every little thing that could happen on the battlefield. Romeo's usual cocky attitude and sly smile was replaced with a serious and pessimistic outlook matched with an ever present frown.

Lana seemed to be constantly breaking down, and constantly trying to fix herself back up. She seemed to be hiding something, something that made seemed to stress her out every second we got closer and closer to the battle. She would wake up startled and was constantly lost in her own thoughts, only to be frightened back out of them. It was impossible not to notice how she bit her nails, paced, and murmured in her native tongue.

Scott worked hard, but seemed haunted by Rachel's ghost. His anger seemed to consume. He was angry about everything, everyone, but what was worse, much, much worse, was how he seemed to blame himself for everything that went wrong. He was constantly worried about how his parents would feel when his broken body was returned to him. He constantly played scenarios in his head, scenarios where, by doing something different, we were all safe. Scenarios that were more like fairy tales than reality.

Raven remained a figure in the shadows. After my first meeting with him, I never saw him. There was no evidence he even existed, not even a single black-blue feather.

I must be going insane. I thought. I walked along the edge of the beach, preparing myself for the battle that was to come tomorrow. The moon had begun to rise, making a reflection on the eerily still ocean. The stars were beginning to brighten as the sky turned into a dark, shadowy blue. This time tonight we could be soaking in victory or soaking in our own blood, pale from the hand of death. I'm not meant to be an alpha or a werewolf, I thought.

I stopped dead in my tracks, closing my eyes and taking in a breath of the fresh, salty air. What will my father do if I die? I thought, What will the supernatural world do? The entirety of the fate of the werewolves and the supernatural world rested on my shoulders. I looked out at the moon's reflection, the way it appeared to be a bridge across the ocean to the moon. If only I could run away to the moon. I thought.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rapid fluttering of wings. I turner to my right, and watched as Raven started doing some type of dance in the sand. "Um, Raven, whatcha doing?" I said, skeptically, though I was happy to know he was still alive. Raven ignored me, continuing his dance. Then, as suddenly as he started dancing, he stopped and looked up at me expectantly.

"What?" I said. Raven gently fluttered his wings, looked at me, looked at his work, then looked back at me again. I squinted, thoroughly examining his work. Almost immediately, I recognized it as my native tongue, though I'm not exactly fluent. "Bayaq." I read aloud.

The moment the word left my mouth, Raven disappeared in a cloud of black and blue smoke. When the smoke disappeared, the bird was replaced by a deeply scarred, fair young man. "Hello, alpha." He said, slightly bowing. My mouth went wide open in shock at the sudden appearance of the man. "I apologize for not warning you, but I thought you might be more comfortable in my humanoid form." He said.

Composing myself, I obnoxiously cleared my throat. "Humanoid?" I said. Raven smiled at me, revealing beautiful white teeth. "Yes, there are subtle differences between myself and a human, such as the feathers in my hair." He said.

"May I?" I asked, hesitantly reaching my hand out. Raven smiled, lowering his head so I could better, since he was about three inches taller than me. I ran my fingers through his silky hair, occasionally brushing up against a feather. "Wow." I said, returning my hands to my side. Raven looked up at me again, and with the moonlight illuminating his face, his scars were all the more noticeable.