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CHAPTER ONE || ANGRY INDI FACE

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      MY HEART WAS POUNDING against my rib cage as the plane began its descent to the landing strip. I was back. I was home. And I was terrified.

I pushed my claws deeper into my palm and let out a shaky breath to gather myself and my control. I'm a born wolf, but after everything that happened, my control has been slipping more often.

I remind myself that I'm better now. It's all over- no more nogitsune, alpha pack, dark druid/ darach thing that does human sacrifices, kanima masters, none of it. It's over and I lived. We lived.

Well, some of us..

Just as I thought of the ones I had, the ones we lost came back to haunt me, each of their gruesome deaths replaying like a horror movie in my brain.

I had to get out. Loosing Allison- my best friend after Lydia Martin- it put me over the edge

Danger and death and loss and pain and grief. That was Beacon Hills for me. We all fell into some sort of depression after that final loss, but somehow mine might of been harder. Not mentally- we all suffered mentally like that- but in terms of coping. Maybe because the pack's parents knew and understood just how horrible that night was and how traumatized we had been after watching one of our best friends bleed out in front of our own two eyes. Except mine.

My parents didn't understand. My mother had just married my stepfather Justin Geyer, and both were innocent in terms of supernatural means anyhow. Not to mention my little brother Liam was just graduating middle school and too wrapped up in his anger issues to be much help in coping. My family knew of Alli's death, but only what was written in the papers. They didn't know the real story- the one branded in my brain forever of Allison Argent's last fight and last breath.

My mother may have been clueless to the world of supernatural I live in, but she wasn't clueless to my mental state- which had rapidly declined. It was too much- all of those people, all of my friends just gone and no one knew why because they can't- they can't be put in danger like that, or they'd end up just like my dead friends.

She may not of known how Allison died, but she knew how much Allison meant to me. She knew Allison too from the countless times I'd miss dinner because I was at the Argent's. (Well 90% of the time it was just pack business but my mother didn't know that.) My mother and I might not get along, but I've heard I'm the spitting image of her in every way. Besides our looks- light blond hair and big baby blue eyes- we act the same as told by relatives. That always frustrated me- I don't want to be like my mother. The very thought always sends a chill over me. But despite my complaints, my mother knew it to be true, which was why she understood my need to leave and sent me to England to escape the death and phantoms that plagued the town. That was probably the best thing she's ever done for me.

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