Hey guys! So, I meant to get this chapter up yesterday (since the season 3 trailer came out then) but I didn't get it written in time. So, here it is! If you haven't watched the trailer, it's over on the side. (It doesn't go along with this story though. Different alpha pack.)
VOTE. COMMENT. FAN. ENJOY. Love ya! :D
Chapter Sixteen
• Aubrey •
Roxanne’s not happy to see me. Funny, because after sending that hunter after me, I would have thought she’d be thrilled by my return. Not that I’m staying for long.
At first, everyone opposed the idea. Stiles was the most adamant, with Scott being a close second. Isaac had already left for school, taking Allison with him (she had a perfect attendance record and preferred not to tarnish it, no matter the circumstances). Derek stood motionless, arms crossed as I tried to explain that this problem was just too big for us to handle on our own. To my surprise, he agreed with me.
I had looked pointedly at Scott, who had his hands balled into fists at his side. “That means you have to listen to him, and I have to go. Alpha’s orders.”
“Actually,” Derek said. “He doesn’t have to listen to me, since I’m not his alpha. But it’s always a good idea, since there’s always the chance I’ll beat him up.”
Scott muttered something that wasn’t supposed to be nice while I asked, “He’s not your beta? But I thought there was only one pack in Beacon Hills.”
Scott nodded. “Yeah, there is, but for some reason, I’ve never had to listen to Derek, even after he became alpha. I’m an alpha, just like you.”
“Well,” I said. “Not just like me.”
Eventually, plans were made and we headed off towards the pack house. It was decided that Derek would stay away― the alpha pack didn’t need to take over the Beacon Hills pack as well― and Stiles stayed with him, much to his disappointment.
Now, I stand in the entryway to the pack house― the home that I was supposed to feel safe in― with Scott by my side and two hulking guards pressing up behind me. Roxanne is at the other end of the hallway, amber eyes blazing.
Her voice is crisp and cool when she speaks; it’s liquid ice in my veins. “I see you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Really, Roxanne, you should’ve known that you couldn’t always keep me locked up.” I’m surprised to find that my own voice is laced with bitter malice, if not hatred.
“Locked up? I assumed you were happy here.”
“Yeah, being chained up and on constant watch by guards really makes me feel like I have total freedom.” Scott’s eyebrows go up and Roxanne’s jaw clenches― she hates sarcasm, and would reprimand me if it wasn’t for Scott. She likes to pretend she’s warm and motherly in front of guests.
Her face changes to one of sympathy. Tossing her fire red hair behind her, she starts off towards me. When she stands in front of me, she reaches down to envelop me in a hug; her skin is uncomfortably hot. Her touch manages to shock me― it’s not that she’s never hugged me before, but that when she touches me, it’s normally to inflict some kind of injury. Squeeze me too tightly; dig her nails into my shoulder. But this… it’s just like how a mother would hug her daughter.
It’s all an act. It’s designed for Scott to think she’s not the bad guy. For me to think she’s not the bad guy.
And then it comes. She whispers into my ear, “Aubrey, I did not appreciate that little stunt you did, and it won’t happen again. You have a role to fulfill. We all do, sweetheart.” The way she says the word sweetheart sounds like a dagger twisting in me.
Pulling back, she says with a smile, “Who is this that you’ve brought with you, Aubrey?”
“My name’s Scott,” he says, offering his hand as well as a smile. I want to hit him, tell him to break eye contact with her, to stop being charming. “I just want to make sure Aubrey’s safe while she’s here.”
Roxanne laughs, but it sounds fake to my ears only. “Why would Bree not be safe here? This is her home.”
Hogwarts is more of a home to me and you know it. I cringe when she calls me by my nickname― that’s reserved for friends and family only, and she’s neither.
Before the way Scott continues to smile at the head alpha makes me sick, I blurt out, “Roxanne, I need you to call a pack meeting.”
Her head whips towards me. “Why do you need one?”
“Because,” I start, taking a deep breath. “That hunter you sent after me. Well, she’s dead.”
• • •
When I finish telling the story of the past few days― leaving out much of the truth, including everyone I’ve met, my visit to the hospital, and my inevitable death― everyone is silent, their mouths gaping open in shock. There must be at least thirty of us packed into this small, dim room. Jake stands near me and Scott is even closer; I haven’t seen Ben anywhere. Roxanne seems to be the only one to keep her cool, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I want to know who killed her,” a voice pipes in from the back― it’s another hunter, a girl with dreadlocks. “Maybe another werewolf?”
I shake my head. “No, but it was a shape shifter. She was all cut up and sliced open.” Even visualizing it makes me want to be sick. “There’s only one thing that could do that― the wounds were too deep for normal claws or even a regular rabid animal.” My voices rises a little, bordering on hysteria. “There’s this creature running around that looks like a lizard― a gigantic lizard with venom that paralyzes you.”
A collective laughter reaches my ears― they don’t believe me. For supernatural beings that live in the night, they should put more faith in the embodiment of the moon. “Yeah, right. It sounds like you’re just telling tales to get attention.”
Someone else chimes in. “And meanwhile, Liz is dead. So why don’t we stop listening to your stories about the lizard-man and actually go find the sick-o that murdered her.”
“No, I’m telling the truth!” I yell. “I’ve seen it!”
The hunter with the dreads scoffs, “You’ve seen it? Really? Maybe you killed Liz and you’re just making up ridiculous excuses.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. If I was guilty, why would I show up here with news that she’s dead? Just so I can say I killed her?”
The room breaks out into chaos, the pack yelling and screaming. From what I’m able to make out, they want someone to blame… and that someone is me.
People start pressing closer to me, and before I know it, Jake has grabbed my hands and he pulls me behind him, my back pressed up against the wall. His arms shield me while Scott shifts, baring his teeth at the oncoming crowd. “Come any closer,” he growls, his voice thick because of his fangs. “And you’ll wake up in the hospital.”
Dread-girl says, “Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a fact.”
Out of nowhere, her face twists and changes, long fangs springing to part her lips and eyes glowing red. She springs forward, pushing the crowd to the side, and tackles Scott to the ground, raging with grief. He cries out in surprise as her fingers find his chest and she slashes, blood welling up underneath the fabric.
I struggle in Jake’s arms, fighting to get out there and help Scott. “Don’t,” Jake says in my ear. “They’ll rip you apart.”
Scott kicks out, sending the girl flying through the air. She lands gracefully in a crouch, teeth bared. She runs straight for him, and when he steps to the side, she swings around and leaps onto his back, sinking her teeth into his neck. Scott lets out a yelp, staggering back against a wall.
I scream, unable to contain myself. Parts of the pack are still descending on me, but they’re not attacking because of Jake. I taste blood on my tongue― my fangs have protruded, and all I want right now is to spill the hunter’s blood, just like she’s spilling Scott’s.
“Jake,” I get out, trying to keep a measured tone. “Let me go. Please.”
And then his arms aren’t around me anymore and I’m moving forward, the crowd pressing up against me. The smell in the air changes to the bitterness of shifting, but before I can think too much about that, I get to the hunter looming over Scott, who has a hand pressed to his bloody neck.
“I’m sorry about Liz,” I growl. “But step away from my friend before you join her in the afterlife.”
“He started it,” she whines. I want to rip those dreads right out of her pretty little head.
“And I’m going to finish it.” Wrapping my fingers into her hair, I jerk my hand back, sending her spiraling to the ground. Kicking out, my foot finds her knee; I smile viciously when I hear the loud snap that means I’ve broken the bone. The girl gasps, claws retracting back as she grabs at her leg. Suddenly, I’m filled with a need for her to suffer like I have, feel the pain, and I crouch down next to her. My fingers are resting against her throat, twitching for me to slash them across and end her, when Roxanne yells.
“ENOUGH!” Despite her tone, Roxanne has not moved from her original position. Her arms are crossed, her face a blank stare. She’s glaring directly at me, in the way that I’m all too familiar with: I’m disappointed in you. Even if I don’t really like her, I still crave her approval.
The anger in the room has seemed to subside, the pack no longer anywhere near me. They’re pressed up against the sides of the room. The only sounds are Scott’s whimpers and my heavy breathing. I’m aware of everyone’s eyes on me, but I can’t see anyone. All I can see are my fingers on the hunter’s throat.
I was going to kill her.
Claws snap back into the tips of my fingers and I recoil as if touching her skin burned me. I feel arms around me, pulling me to my feet, pulling me out of the now silent room, but I feel limp, numb.
This close, I think. This close and she would be dead.
The next thing I’m aware of is that I’m being dragged past Roxanne― maybe dragged isn’t the right word, but led― and while her eyes are hard as steel, a pretty smile plays over her lips. When I pass, she breathes, “Good job, Aubrey.” It’s low, so that only I can hear it, but it sounds like a figment of my imagination.
Out in the hallway, the figure lets go of me and thrusts me up against the wall, after closing the door to the meeting room. His face is close to mine, blond hair tickling my forehead. He smells like old leather-bound books and cigar smoke. Benoit.
“What the hell was that?” he asks, his whisper hissed. His accent makes the words run together in a long stream.
I offer a hesitant smile, however shaky it may be. “Hey, Ben. Long time, no see, eh?”
“Do you know how worried I was, Bree? I thought you might have been dead. If you hadn’t gotten in contact with Jake, I would’ve gone out there and tracked you down myself.” He makes a face, his nose scrunching up. “I was in Arizona, tending to some last minute business, when Jake called me and said that you had vanished. Poof, gone, just like that.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t want to meet his eyes; instead, I examine the blood drying beneath my nails. I feel two inches tall.
“I know you feel like a prisoner here, and I’m sure you were just acting on impulse and wanted to be a normal teenager for once, so that constituted running away. I get that you hate it here― I really do. Hell, if I was trapped here, I’d always be looking for a way out! But you can’t just run away from your fears. You have to face them.”
At least he isn’t guilt-tripping me. If he was, I would probably spill everything― including my intense pull towards Stiles. Ben’s always had that kind of influence over me. “I know. And I’m sorry for leaving without telling you or Jake… but Ben; I needed to get out of here. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
“As unfair as it is,” he says “you don’t get to be free. Being the descendant means you’ll never have your freedom.”
I wish that I could turn into a bird so that I can just take flight. I’d be okay with running forever if it meant that I was free.
“Look, Bree, so you left. You got to be out in the real world, the mortal world, for a few days and experience life. I’m sure you went into town, saw how the humans live, and acted like a teenage girl for a bit. Maybe even kissed someone, I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair, stepping back from me. “Point is you’ve lived. You know what it’s like. So now it’s time to stay and prepare for your sixteenth birthday. From what I saw in there, when you attacked that hunter girl, it proves that you need to be here more than ever.”
He has a point, but I don’t want to see it. I know I’m being stubborn, but Ben won’t influence me this time. I’ve learned what it’s like to make my own decisions and I’m not going to stop now. I made my decision when I left that night. “Ben, you know why I can’t stay.”
“But your duties―”
“Don’t talk to me about all that triskele and the descendant crap,” I snap. “I don’t want to hear it. I thought you agreed with me when I said that what Roxanne has planned for me isn’t good.”
“I do, but―” He sighs, his face lined with stress; he looks much older than the last time I saw him. “Roxanne has power. It might be best for us to do what she wants.”
“Roxanne keeps me locked up! In case you’d forgotten, she’s also planned my wedding to a power-hungry douche-bag! In three weeks!” My voice is rising in volume, and I’m sure people are listening in, but I don’t care. “I can’t stay here.”
“But this is your home.”
“This isn’t my home.” My words make Ben’s head jerk back as if I’ve slapped him. I’m not sure why, until I remember the words I told him when I was little: Home is wherever you are. And now, in this short amount of time, the words have changed: Home is wherever Stiles is. Just like that, I need him.
“I’m sorry, Ben, but I can’t stay.” And you can’t keep me.
He stands frozen, lips pressed tightly together, as I edge my way towards the door. When I walk into the room, everyone is in the same place as when I left it. A few people are tending to the hunter with the dreads, and when I meet her gaze, her eyes are very wide. It’s scary to have enough control to stop yourself from murder.
Scott is leaning against the wall, his wounds healed and his shirt stained with blood. I’m glad he’s not hurt, but he’ll be sore for a while. “Ready to go?” he asks, already hobbling over to me. I nod without saying a word.
Jake catches my eye from across the room. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to― everything is written on his face. I wish you would stay, but I understand that you need to go.
Roxanne makes a move to block the door, but stops when I snarl at her. “I’m not going to stop you,” she says. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I’m sure.”
“I hope you can handle the decision you’ve made.” Her voice is cool, her amber eyes flaming. A shiver runs down my spine. “I hope you can deal with the consequences.”