Lycans Of The Woods

Chapter 11

Maybe, in due time…

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The snowfall carried on overnight and into the morning, but I dressed warmly, determined not to change my plans because of the weather.

The bedroom door creaked when I opened it, and I winced, face scrunching in irritation, pausing and deciding I would slip through the fairly small space, as I did not want to cause further noise by opening it some more.

I only had one hour to find the prison which Anabelle was in and to also meet Helda's family; Willow and Jeremiah would be back outside of the bedroom after that hour, and as commanded by their Alpha, would check to see if I was inside.

I moved swiftly down the stairs, thankful that it was not too dark below. With bated breath I grabbed at boots, jerking them on, eyes flickering around me as I did so, pausing at the sound of what I thought to be someone walking. My heart leapt to my throat at the thought of being caught and I hastened fastening the boots and walked quickly to a table standing against the wall.

I hesitated, but eventually wrapped my fingers against the handle of a drawer of the table, breathing a little easier when it opened soundlessly. With one last look around me, I turned my attention to what was inside.

A dagger rested upon soft, wolly fabric. Blood spilled from my finger once I touched the sharp point and my lips curled in satisfaction, gaze lowering to the hilt of the small dagger, examining the engraved initials on it, not bothering to figure out who this dagger belonged to.

I had first seen this dagger before I left the house to travel to Helda's. Elijah had been fussing about in the drawer, seemingly searching for something and I managed to take a glimpse of it before he'd closed it.

Carefully holding the dagger in one hand, I walked to the door which, after ambling down the long stretch of the hallway, led me outside.

The stillness of the early morning immediately brought about a tidal wave of emotions. Peace, excitement, fear. They all flooded my mind and I, for just a few seconds, stood outside of the front door of the house, simply being, not worrying about the possibility that what I was about to do could somehow lead me to being imprisoned again, or death.

I watched silently as the snow fell, shuddering at the cold wind blasting against my skin until I pushed forward again, moving south, eyes searching for any lycans patrolling the pack.

And, eventually, after a few minutes of walking, I did see lycans.

I scrambled for a place to hide after that, ducking my body behind a barrel on it's side, knees pressing into snow and eyes warily following the slow, languid movement of the lycans as they spoke quietly amongst themselves.

I could not help my relieved sigh when they walked out of sight. None of them had seen me.

Or so I thought.

I carried on walking, hands stuffed deeply in pockets, fingers ever so often grazing the hilt of the dagger, eyes narrowing against the growing strength of the wind.

I finally caught sight a large, grey building, which was surprisingly unguarded. At first, I thought the door to be locked, but after a few hard yanks, the knob turned, and a familiar scent of feces and urine flew towards me.