Clara woke up with a groan, rolling over on the bed and stretching her limbs out. She felt sore, especially in her feet, probably from all the walking...
Her eyes darted open and she sat up quickly, head spinning. Her hangover wasn't bad, thank god, but a headache was quickly building in her skull as she looked around. She was in her bedroom, tucked under the covers and even in one of Wyatt's large shirts. She looked to the window and saw him sitting there.
He caught her gaze, alerted by her movements, and she was met with a stony glare. She cringed slightly. He was pissed.
"Where were you last night?" he demanded. She ran a hand through her hair and down her face, swinging her legs off of the bed.
"I just went for a walk." she muttered quietly, standing up slowly and scrunching her eyes shut for a moment. "What time is it?"
She heard Wyatt scoff behind her as she walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Her footsteps were slow.
"Last time I checked taking a walk doesn't include getting wasted and coming home at two in the morning." He snapped. She knew he wasn't really mad – she could hear it in his voice. He was worried, concerned for her, and there was an undertone of panic. He didn't know what was wrong, he couldn't understand why she had done this, and that scared him. She felt a rush of guilt – he would do anything for her, she was sure.
"I was stressed," she said, glancing at him through the reflection of the mirror as he followed her into the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and let the icy cold water run over her fingertips for a moment before splashing some gently in her face, closing her eyes as she was shocked awake. "I thought you'd be asleep when I got back."
This only seemed to anger him further. "So you were going to lie." He stated. She didn't deny it, and he was silent for a moment. "Have you done this before?"
She let out a long sigh, opening her eyes and staring at him. "No, I haven't. Things have been good, Wyatt." She moved closer to him, automatically sliding her arms around his waist. He leaned back a bit, away from her. She couldn't help but flinch at the rejection. "I like it here. It's peaceful. I...I want to -" stay, she would have said.
But she was interrupted - by a knock on the front door downstairs. A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear it from such a distance, but Wyatt was an Alpha werewolf, and Clara was...well she wasn't sure.
"Does anyone know we're here?" she asked him, dropping her hands from his body and starting for the door. Wyatt followed and they both treaded lightly down the stairs. He shook his head at her question.
"Only Dylan knows the address." He said lowly, eyeing the front door as they reached the bottom of the steps, their argument forgotten in the face of a threat. They were both fighters, warriors, and knew how to focus at a moment's notice.
Clara reached for the dagger she kept in an old boot by the door, ignoring Wyatt's look of surprise. She moved to open the door, but he stopped her, stepping in front of her and opening it himself. The white light of early morning pushed its way through the open space and into the house, momentarily blinding her as she stepped beside Wyatt to see who it was. His shoulders were tense, but not prepared to fight.
Her eyes fell on the young man at their doorstep – his familiar blonde hair had grown, some, and was lazily pushed back to reveal his piercing blue eyes, so much like her own. His gaze was steady, but desperate, meeting hers with certainty. It was Luke, and she didn't care if he was here to kill her or forgive her.
"Luke," she breathed, pushing past Wyatt and falling into the arms of her brother. She let out a careless laugh as she wrapped her arms around him, knocking him back a step or two. All thoughts of a hangover were gone out of her mind, everything bad, everything dark, until she was basking in the happiness of being with her family. She wasn't sure she would ever see him again – she knew he hadn't wanted to see her.
"Hi, Clara," he said, holding her with some restraint. He wasn't quite the cheerful and reckless boy he'd been before, but she could feel his happiness nonetheless. She glanced past him, where another stood at the bottom of the few steps, her arms folded across her chest and her foot tapping impatiently against the leaf-covered ground. But she was smiling.
Clara released Luke and stared at Joanna, keeping her own smile. She wasn't sure if she should hug her or not, so she didn't.
"What's up, buttercup," Joanna said, clasping her on the shoulder before turning quickly to Wyatt. "Alpha." She nodded at him respectfully.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her, trying not to sound hostile. "How did you even know we were here?"
She shrugged, but Luke quickly interjected: "I needed to see Clara." At he stared at Wyatt, Clara could see some of his old animosity creeping in, but he stood still and at least tried to guard his expression. She was grateful. "Dylan told Jo where you were."
"Jo?" Clara repeated with a rueful smile. It appeared that the mate bond was working its magic on them already...or perhaps it was Joanna's wit and charm. Either way, a faint blush seeped onto Luke's cheeks and he clenched his teeth to fight it off.
"Can we talk?" he asked, grasping her forearm intently. Wyatt shifted uneasily behind them.
"Of course," she said. "Let's walk."
"Clara..." Wyatt warned.
"I'm sure this will be more than enough to fight off the squirrels," she said dryly, waving her knife at him.
Leaving Joanna and Wyatt at the house to talk about whatever werewolf business they needed to talk about, Clara and Luke walked steadily down the forest path that connected to the back of their house, the scenery illuminated by the dawn glow. It was freezing – she'd grabbed randomly for a coat before they left and found herself swallowed by Wyatt's parka. Not that he needed it, being a heat-generating werewolf.
Luke told her a little bit about his time with Joanna after she had left Boston. Most of it was in mumbles, but she learned that he had ignored her for a solid month. At first, she'd been respectful, keeping her distance from Clara's brother, but then she seemed to get fed up and went for the more direct approach. Clara scoffed at this – it did sound like what Joanna would do. She started showing up at the apartment, at his day job, and everywhere in between. At first he'd threatened her, yelled at her and chased her off, then just tried to block her out completely. But at some point she had penetrated his stubbornness and they'd begun to talk. He wouldn't tell Clara much else, but she filled in the blanks: Joanna had brought her brother back to her.
He was mid-way through a story about one of their encounters when he stopped, abruptly, in the path, turning to face her and dropping his smile. "God, Clara, I..." He put his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry," he looked up at her. "I'm so sorry...I was an idiot, a bastard, I should have never said the things I did...I understand if you don't forgive me, but..."
He was cut off again when she launched herself at him, tears in her eyes and laughter bubbling up in her throat. She wrapped her arms tightly around his solid chest. "Of course I forgive you, you idiot," she laughed, sniffing slightly at the uncharacteristic tears. "I'm so happy you're here."
"I couldn't abandon my sister."
She felt darkness seep into the corners of her mind and she swallowed, knowing that she had to say something. "I need to tell you something. This might not be the right time, but..." She trailed off, releasing him and staring at her fingertips sadly.
"Something's been happening to me," she admitted. "I've been...changing."
He looked wary, but puzzled. "What do you mean? Are you sick?"
"I don't know. The other night...and a few nights before that, my fingers..." she didn't know how to get it out – how to explain that she might be becoming a wolf. "I had claws, Luke. I partially shifted, like a werewolf. I was so angry, and then they were just there...I couldn't control it."
She looked nervously up at him. His features were stony, unreadable, and she felt her heart drop. He was silent for a few moments, just staring into her eyes. He opened his mouth once...closed it.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the sincerity behind his words hitting her hard. His face was full of concern now.
"I – I'm okay." She fumbled to make a sentence, shocked by his lack of fury. "It's just a little scary. I don't know what to think...What to do."
"Have you told him?"
"Not yet," she shook her head. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. You haven't...noticed anything, have you? Is there any way this could be happening to you?"
"I haven't," he said quietly. He reached down and took her hands within his larger ones. "It doesn't matter. We'll get through it. But you should tell him soon – I don't know how this works, but he might be able to help you through it." He gave her a wry smile. "He's got a little more experience in the paws department."
She let a laugh escape her, grateful for his acceptance. "Thank you, Luke."
* * *
Luke and Joanna left shortly after they returned from their walk.
Clara promised her brother that she'd see him soon, and he swore he'd call her, then they left.
Wyatt was holed up in the little room that served as his office, on the phone, from the muffled sounds she could hear. He had been for the past two hours, although she imagined it was more sulking than actually talking.
By the time he emerged, she'd cooked them some sort of late breakfast – eggs and bacon was, fortunately, one of the meagre recipes she could make. She'd set it out and was about to get up to try and pry him from the office when he walked into the kitchen. His expression was less clouded from their spat that morning, but set in determination.
He opened his mouth, looking like he was going to snap at her, before he spotted the food and frowned. "You made breakfast." She wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question, but nodded.
"I..." he started. "We're leaving," he said softly. "Back to Maine – I want to meet with Duncan. I think we can come to a truce. He seems ready, and god knows I am."
Clara flinched, her fists clenching slightly. She felt the familiar tinge of red curling around the edges of her vision like a fiery snake. "We are?" she said dryly, no traces of humour in her voice.
He frowned. "Yes. It's safe now, Clara, we don't have to run. We can go back to our pack."
She didn't know why, but the words our pack made her seethe even more. "What if I don't want to?" she said in a small voice.
He seemed taken aback. "I know things are good here, Clara, but it was never supposed to be permanent. This isn't our home."
"That's not my home either!" she snapped, feeling the air rush out of her lungs and a weight lift off of her mind. "I – I want to make you happy, Wyatt, but I don't want to go back there. I want to start again...just the two of us, not in the pack. I'll never belong there, we'll never move on."
"I can't just abandon them!" he said, his voice rising to a shout now. He ran a tense hand through his hair, his face a mixture of shock and anger. "I'm the Alpha, I'm supposed to lead them."
She stepped forward, gently placing her hands on his chest. She was relieved when he didn't move away from her. "They'll have another Alpha. If not Dylan, another. They'll be fine – but after everything that's happened, is it so wrong for me to want a fresh start? Somewhere not tainted with so much blood and violence?"
His face hardened and he stepped back. She'd said something wrong. "You mean tainted by werewolves, don't you?" he spat. "We're back to this again? Jesus, Clara, I thought you'd grown up a little! I thought you didn't hate us anymore!"
She gasped at the accusation. "I don't! I love you, Wyatt, that's why I want to leave it all behind with you!"
He scoffed, it was a sound of disgust, and started for the door. He didn't seem to react at all to her confession and her heart dropped – she'd told him how she felt, and all he could do was storm off?
"Enough of this bullshit, Clara – if you want me you have to accept what I am. What my friends are – my pack. We're wolves, and that won't change no matter how far away we run."
She grew desperate, the anger fading to anguish as she watched him walk closer to the exit. "That's not why, Wyatt, you're misunderstanding -"
"I understand perfectly well!" he roared, throwing open the front door. "I'm going back to the pack. I'll talk to Duncan and sort out the treaty – you'll be safe. You can stay here forever." With that, he walked heavily to the fringe of the forest which brushed their house, not even looking back as he shifted mid-step into his wolf, a great, hulking animal, and ran off into the darkness of the woods.
Clara swallowed the lump in her throat and trudged back to the kitchen, sitting amongst their cold, untouched breakfast with a headache and eyes full of tears.
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New chapter, new covers! Ops?
What did you think of this one? Is Clara being unfair? THE END IS NIGH!! xx
ALSO: I've reposted Of Virtue and Vice so I'd appreciate it loads if you gave it a go! :)