The Hunters

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cheshire

I love the concept of dreaming. Dreaming and sleeping. They both take me away from this living nightmare. But, my short-lived victory washes over to the sound of his voice waking me up.

    "Amaia," he whispers and shakes my arm, "you need to get up now."

    It's dizzy as I return back to reality. It's strange. Everything that happened seemed to be like a dream, but I remember every detail. I remember my father dying. I don't have a father anymore. I feel empty.

    "Cyprian-" my voice catches.

    "I'm right here, darling, I'm right here. You're alright now."

    "But- where are we?" I notice my surroundings. We're in the forest. This isn't right, I think. I hope this is just a twisted, twisted dream.

    "I'm sorry- I had to get you out of there- it's a mess," he doesn't meet my eyes.

    "Where's Aramis?" My heart skips a beat and I sit up and look around.

    "He's here, he's alright," he pauses and his lips tighten together, "he helped me get you away from Kane. He's after you, he wants to take you captive, so we have to keep you guarded at all times."

    "But I don't need to be taken care of. I can take care of myself-"

    He cuts me off and I'm suddenly terrified by the fire in his eyes, "You don't understand, Amaia. You say that you are capable of taking yourself and God, I want to believe it, but I don't because you become weak when you're around Kane. What is it about him that you allow him to control you?"

    I look down at my black boots and whisper, "I believe there is good in him. There has to be. No one is born that tortured; something happened to him that changed him. That made him so- monstrous."

    Cyprian sighs, "He's a werewolf, Amaia. Isn't that a good enough reason for him to be monstrous? Because I know I think it's hell of a good reason."

    "You're not always right," I mumble, "everyone has to be wrong sometime."

    I finally look back up to him and he sits quietly, just staring at me. Then, after sixteen seconds of silence he whispers, an inch away from me now, "God, darling, I love you when you voice your thoughts."

"My father..." I whisper, "he's dead."

"I'm afraid so-"

Cyprian is cut off by a shout, "Cyprian! Amaia!"
A familiar red-head comes running over through the woods. I feel my fists clench. Sullivan. Every muscle inside of me tightens. Whether it's in anger or alert, I'm not sure.

    "What do you need?" Cyprian stands up to face Sullivan. He's not very happy about his arrival either.

    "I-I just- Amaia's dad-" he pauses, "Who'll lead us?"

    Cyprian tenses as well, "I will. Amaia's father swore me into leadership before he died."

    Sullivan scolds, "Is that really true, Amaia? If anything I thought your father wanted me to be leader."

    "Cyprian's leader now," I sigh, "and why is it so important to you to know who my father declared leader?"

    I want to be the leader, deep down. I love it that Cyprian is now, but all those years  I thought I'd be the one with the title. I was the leader's daughter, wouldn't that make me the leader next? I don't know whether I'm hurt because of my father's death or because his last breath declared Cyprian leader.

    "Because," Sullivan sucks me back into reality with a scoff, "whoever your father declares leader is important. We need a true leader."

    I purse my lips, "is the battle over?"

    "Yes," they both say in unison. Then they glare at each other.

    I hear a laugh come from behind me and I jump in fear. Then look over my shoulder and find Aramis smiling. I sigh in relief. He walks over to us and looks around, but he frowns when he looks at me, "I'm sorry about your father, Amaia."

    I avert staring at him and instead become fascinated with my fingers, "I-I'm okay."

    "Are you sure? Because I'm okay if you need to get some anger out and punch me in the gut for a little while," he's teasing me and I can't help but smile.

    "Thanks for the offer- sounds like fun, but I'll save that for a rainy day."

    "Eh-hem," Sullivan coughs out, "sorry to interrupt whatever you two have going there-"

    I interrupt, "It's called friendship. Have you heard of it?"

    He pretends he didn't hear me and continues, "Anyway, we need to get back to the village. Cyprian has to lead now."

    My stomach boils in anger at the way Sullivan talks about us. He's so annoying. I'd really love to push him off a cliff. I take a deep breath. He's a devil on a shoulder, an annoying little whisperer who tricks you into nasty things and leaves you there with the blame. I wonder who's the angel out of us.

    "How many died? Has anyone counted the bodies?" Cyprian directly asks Sullivan.

    "Maybe you should go find out yourself," Sullivan says in a sarcastic tone.

    "As your new leader I demand you to tell me," Cyprian flashes a cheshire grin.

    Sullivan bounces off one foot to another. His posture screams nervousness but his tone is flat, "thirty-one dead, thirteen injured."

    Cyprian nods and calculates the math, "So there are approximately sixty-eight of us who are capable to fight?"

    "Excluding children, then yes," Sullivan shrugs, "if we include those under fourteen then we'd have eighty-nine."

    "We're not sending children to war," I chime in, "that's exactly what a monster would do and we are not them."

    Cyprian rubs his chin in thought, "Of course, darling."

    Aramis pats me on the shoulder, "Don't worry, Amaia, I'll make sure it doesn't happen."

    But why does Aramis have to make sure it doesn't happen. Why can't I stop it? "Cyprian," I grit through my teeth, "a word please?"

    We step to the side, away from Aramis and Sullivan, and he asks, "Everything alright, darling?"

    Damn him for making my heart race when he calls me that, "No. You're thinking about sending children to war! Please, listen to me, actually listen to me, don't take me as a side note and think my opinion is worthless. Please, please, please," I don't know how many times I repeat the word, over and over again.

    Electricity flies through my skin at the touch of his hands on my arm. My breathing becomes shallow and the world is spinning, "Amaia, it's going to be okay. I am listening to you right now. I will listen to you. You're my girlfriend, your opinion means the most to me. If you don't think having children-"

    "It's cruel!" I interrupt, "Children soldiers? Just think of it. It-it's something Kane would do! It's monstrous."

    He rubs my arms, "Yes," in a hushed, soothing tone he whispers, "it is and that's why I will not listen to Sullivan. Of all people, do you really think his opinion means anything to me? It's shit, is what it is."

    I laugh, but I stop when I see Sullivan glare over, his eyes deep in evil and pain. There is nothing beautiful to Sullivan. Even with Kane I can find the good in his eyes, his innocence. But Sullivan's eye glaring at me is like a black hole swallowing everything up, never to see the light of day again.

    "Can-can we go now? It's over- the wolves are gone," I beg Cyprian.

    "Of course. We'll go home."