Eclipse

2.

Olivia settled down into the chair where Cameron had sat in, and wrung her hands nervously.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Cameron's the one who's been trying to get you to leave the most," she suddenly blurted out in a rush of words.

I smiled a small smile. "Oh, I know. I don't have much time before he does kill me."

"He can't!" The alarm in her eyes was clear. "He can't, not after all of what's happened!"

"Olivia, I appreciate what you're doing for me, but this is how it works. If Cameron wants to become Alpha, he has to challenge me, and whoever survives is the new leader. It's pretty obvious here who's going to die, right?"

Olivia's jaw tightened as she stood up. "You'll be alright here alone?"

"Where're you going?" I asked instead, popping another square of bread into my mouth.

"I need to talk to Cameron. You shouldn't have to die."

I shrugged indifferently. I was beyond caring. If anything, Cameron was probably doing me a favour, putting me out of this perpetual misery. Olivia hurried out while I lazily sipped my orange juice. I could almost ignore the pain, as I lay unmoving in my bed. In that moment, I truly, honestly didn't give a shit that Cameron was going to kill me. Be it Leo or my impending death or Cameron, I just didn't care.

⤜◯⤛

I was right. By the next day, the soreness had vanished, leaving behind dark red scars and faint discolourations where there had been scabs and purple flowers of bruises. Cameron and the others had left me in my room in peace, or at least I liked to think that. For all I knew, they were plotting the best way to kill me.

My room was small. It was where I'd slept while my parents occupied the room designated for the Alpha. Now both of them had passed on, but I couldn't bring myself to move into that room of grandeur, full of reminders of everything in my life that had gone wrong. The bed was positioned by the window, parallel to the window sill, and I faced the door with my knees to my chest and back against the wall. I clutched the roots of my hair as a migraine started to take form, an obstinate pounding behind my eyes, making every sound multiply by a tenfold.

I reached out blindly and found the small bottle of aspirin and dry swallowed a tablet. I winced as it scraped its way down my throat, but sighed in relief as the headache eased slightly. I sat up slowly and changed out of that filmy dress into a pair of track pants and a black shirt, both of which hung off my frame like a skeleton's clothes.

You have one month. Cameron was, without doubt, going to be Alpha by then, but would he strong enough? Probably.

My reflection stared blearily at me in the bathroom, my black hair resembling a bird's nest atop my head. I carefully combed out the greasy strands in the hope that my hair wouldn't fall out by the handful, and braided it down my back. The wraith in the mirror looked nothing like the old Megan Vaughn. This sliver of a being was nothing but an empty shell. My hand tightened into a fist as I suppressed the urge to punch the sullenness out of the face in the mirror, and I forced myself to turn away. The stairs suddenly felt like individual cliffs descending to the fiery pits of hell, each step feeling more taxing than its predecessor. I clung to the bannister as I descended, and waiting in the kitchen was an angry crowd.

I nodded in acknowledgment as I bent down the search the fridge. It was clear to see that Cameron was the leader of this mob.

"Megan," Cameron said curtly in greeting, arms folded across his chest.