Chapter 25- Wolves Don't Share:

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Chapter 25- Wolves Don’t Share

I gave Rosie a tight grin then squatted down and took both of her hands in mine.

“How about we go take a bath and then get ready for bed?” I asked.

“Okay, mommy.”

I led her upstairs after I told Lexi I’d be back in a bit and went into the room that Alex had found for her. It ended up being my room. I honestly didn’t want her in there, knowing just how bad it still looked, even after the cleaning I’d done to it and the blood was still on the mirror. For some reason, I still didn’t clean it off. Something about it just didn’t seem right to me.

I helped bath Rose and got her in her pajamas. By the time we climbed in bed, her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady and getting heavier and heavier. I pulled the covers up over her as she laid against me and my fingers ran through her blonde hair.

            When I was sure that she was fast asleep, I went to use the bathroom. I carefully placed her head on the pillow and slowly moved out of the bed so that in case if she was still partially awake, she wouldn’t really notice that I was gone.

            I washed my hands when I was done but when I looked up, I froze. I stared at my bathroom mirror. The words written in red were still there. The promise that they held still chilled my blood. I knew that it was a promise that would be held. The only question was when? When would they come? When will they raid again? All these years they’d been attacking and I wasn’t here to stop them, or to at least help. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do much—I was still human. That still didn’t sit right with me. I still wanted to change. I wanted to be one of them. My mind flashed back to the day Jake told me the reason why he wouldn’t change me, and the bloody letters seemed to stand out even more.

            He didn’t want me to have to go through the cravings. He didn’t want me to have to lust for blood and even kill willingly just to have it. After what’d happened in the woods the day we were taken, I knew exactly why he didn’t want to do that do me. The thought of killing was bad enough, especially having already done it. But killing in cold blood and knowing full well what I was doing and still doing it? I already had enough trouble with these panic attacks from when I’d killed my step-mom. I didn’t need to add on to them. I didn’t want to know what would happen to me if I did go through that. It didn’t matter that I wouldn’t have any control of myself and that my wolf would be too strong for me to control at the first shift. I would still know. I would still be able to fully comprehend what was happening. That day in the woods was a spur-of-the-moment. I knew what was happening, and yet I couldn’t fully understand what I was doing until I had already done it. I don’t think I ever fully understood what I did until a while after it happened. And being back here just makes it even clearer. I was a murderer through and through. I didn’t want to be, but I was. I couldn’t change that. And my turning into a werewolf would just add on to that.

            But I couldn’t deny that I still wanted it. I still wanted the change. I dreaded having to go through it, but I wanted it. I wanted to be a werewolf. I was tired of being a weak little human that couldn’t do anything for anyone. I couldn’t help the pack. I couldn’t fight with them. I was kidding myself thinking I could. I was a joke. The prophecy child was supposed to be a great strength to the pack. What have I done to be a great strength to them? I left them. I didn’t even let them know that I was leaving, I just left. They didn’t deserve that. And they surely deserved something more than just me coming back and apologizing. They deserved peace. They deserved not having to be on the look-out twenty-four-seven. I had to be the one to give them that. I just had to figure out how.  

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