Hey!
So, I don't really have much to say, except that if you're wanting me to respond back to you or if you have any questions, inbox me or write on my message board! Sometimes, your comments don't appear on my home page! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)
~Lissa
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(Noah's POV)
"You'll be fine once you throw up," Kyle said, before wrapping his lips around the rim of his beer bottle and taking a sip with an exaggerated moan of pleasure. Kyle's father was close with mine, which practically made him family - while the majority of us didn't share the same blood, all of us hunters considered each other family. Like soldiers, we covered each other's back and watched out for our partner more than ourselves. When Kyle was still inexperienced, the world was cruel to him by forcing him to face two werewolves with a blade that he didn't even know how to correctly hold. Hearing his cry for help, I ended up saving his life and since then, it was almost as if he was devoted to helping me with anything. "Trust me, it'll help."
I frowned. "They have my sister."
He ran his fingers through his chestnut-colored hair. "Well, yeah, but we'll get her back."
"She's fighting against us, Kyle," I responded, irritation occurring in my voice. "I don't think she wants to come back." My mind flashed back to the phone-call with my sister; a part of me was angry with myself for hanging up on her - that was a d*ck move. After the call, I ended up destroying my bedroom and explaining the situation to my father who left the house shortly afterwards without a word; I didn't know where he disappeared off to. Though, my head was still wrapped around what Nora said about the werewolves with red-eyes. It sounded crazy, but over the phone, she sounded frantic. . . she sounded scared. It wasn't very often my sister was scared of something or somebody. "I c-can't fight against her. . . she's my sister. . . "
"I know," Kyle muttered, then burped. "None of us want to hurt Nora."
"But, she sounded determined on the phone when we spoke about me harming the werewolves that have her, " I continued, slouching on the couch. "If she has to, she'll fight against me to protect them - why would she defend them? Their kind killed our mother!"
"Dude, they have her brainwashed."
"Well, duh," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "It just doesn't make any sense - Nora isn't the type to be easily brainwashed. We practiced different scenarios together with a situation similar to this; she didn't crack." I groaned in frustration and brought the beer bottle to my lips, taking a gulp of the reliable liquid. Lately, with the struggle of my family, drinking myself to the point that I couldn't process my thoughts was an escape for me. It distracted me from my quiet father, dead mother, and backstabbing sister. "There was a lot of blood in the forest, Kyle. She was attacked, but she wasn't killed. Why wasn't she killed? We kill werewolves - it doesn't make sense that they didn't kill her when they had the opportunity."
"Maybe they took her to torture her?" he suggested, shrugging.
"But, she sounded fine on the phone," I replied, shaking my head. "And, the two of us created a word that warned one another if we were ever stuck in that kind of situation."
"What was the word?"
"Popsicle."
"Oh, wow," he mumbled, before taking another swing at his beer. I nodded, rubbing my jaw in concentration. Trust me, it wasn't me who created the word - Nora happened to have been craving a Popsicle at the time and blurted out the word, eventually claiming it was perfect. "Wait, do we even have any more leads on which pack she's with?"
"We've narrowed it down to two," I answered, feeling my heart lurch in my chest at the realization that we were getting closer to finding her. "We've killed werewolves from both packs; they'd want her dead, but they didn't kill her. . ."
"Well, if you were a werewolf, what would prevent you from killing somebody who's killed one of your own?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. I stared at him in thought, watching as he tossed his empty bottle of beer onto the floor next to the fireplace. Then, releasing a grunt, he leaned forward on the couch, grabbing another bottle from the table near him. He popped off the top and started drinking his third one, his words slurring more and more with each sip. Why wouldn't you kill her? I questioned myself, grabbing a handful of my hair. I tugged at the roots in hope of getting myself to think clearly - to push past the effects that the beer was starting to have on me. Then, it hit me - I was an idiot for not thinking it before.
"Mates."
Kyle looked at me. "What? You don't think . . ."
"Werewolves never show mercy," I started, slowly. "Unless with their mates."
"Dude, you think Nora has a mate?" he asked, sitting forward in shock. "Nah, that's ridiculous - what are the odds of a hunter being mates with a werewolf?"
"Think about it, why else wouldn't she be dead?" I questioned, setting down my bottle of beer. "God, I'm an idiot! Being the mate of one of the werewolves would've prevented them from killing her; mates are important to the werewolves. A mate is basically their other half; they'd do anything to protect them. . .she was still attacked, though. I'm assuming her mate stepped in and stopped it - how didn't I see this?"
"That's ridiculous!" Kyle repeated, shaking his head at the idea. "For one, if she was the mate of one of the werewolves, that wouldn't have prevented their Alpha from eliminating the threat. We both know that Alphas will do anything to protect their pack - their family - even if that means killing another's mate."
I gritted my teeth. "Not unless the Alpha is her mate."
Suddenly, the sound of the front door bursting open interrupted our conversation; the two of us turned our heads, seeing my father stumbling into the house with three men speaking together behind him. His face was un-shaved and his raggedy clothes were covered in dirt - I assumed he went hunting. My eyes flickered to the handle of his pistol sticking out from his waistband, stained with blood. The sharp intake of breath by Kyle caused my father's head to whip around. When his tired eyes spotted the beer bottles scattering the ground, they narrowed. For one, this was his beer that I took from the fridge and two, I was only nineteen.
He gestured the men behind him towards the kitchen and reluctantly, they chatted their way into the other room. "What are you doing drinking my beer, boy?"
Kyle gulped loudly. "Uh, I'm going to go find my dad. . ."
I scowled at him and he shrugged, shooting up from the couch. Then, hesitantly, he staggered around my father and out the front door. I scratched the back of my head, feeling uneasy with the dangerous look on his face. "I needed to take my mind off things, which didn't really help. But, I figured out why Nora is defending them. It's going to sound crazy, but it's the only reason as to why they didn't kill her. . .mates. I-I think she's the Alpha's mate."
I expected his face to harden in anger or maybe twist into disappointment, before he started yelling about how stupid I was. Instead, his face remained the same. "When you told me about the phone-call - about her being alive - I assumed so."
I cocked an eyebrow. "You knew? So, you know the reason she won't fight with us is because she refuses to harm him, right? The mate-pull is making her feel this way, Dad."
"But, she'll fight against us - she'll fight against her family," he responded, kicking over a beer bottle on the floor. "The mate-pull isn't making her do sh*t. She chose her side; the mate-pull didn't have anything to do with it."
I frowned. "I don't think she wants to choose sides."
"But, she did," he shot back, harshly. "She chose their side, so she's the enemy now." There was a twisting in my stomach at his words; I said something similar to my sister on the phone. I looked into my father's eyes, searching for any emotion that showed what he was thinking, considering it was difficult reading him. But, there was only hatred, maybe a little disappointment. There wasn't any sadness; there wasn't any mercy.
I shook my head. "Yeah, but she's still family, Dad. When we attack, we can't hurt her - it's Nora. My sister; your daughter." Despite my words to my sister, I didn't like the thought of us harming her. Whether I liked it or not, she was still my sister.
"Not anymore," he responded, hoarsely. "Somebody who sides with them is no family of mine." I watched in surprise as he picked up a half-empty bottle of beer and took a swing, his hands trembling. Was he serious? We were speaking about the daughter he had cheered on at her softball games, who he took to Chucky Cheese every birthday until she was ten, and who took numerous pictures with him for her first Prom. When he came down with pneumonia one year, my sister stayed home from school to take care of him.
"Dad, we can't hurt her," I repeated, shaking my head. "I won't hurt her."
"Then, you're a fool!" he spat, glaring at me. "When it comes down between you and her mate, who do you think she'll choose? You? There isn't anything stronger in the world than the pull between mates - not even the love for her big brother."
"This isn't some random person we're talking about, Dad," I replied, rising from the couch. "This is Nora. You'll seriously hurt her?" Gripping the neck of the bottle, he staggered towards me with a scowl. I gulped loudly and his hand shot forward, snatching the front of my shirt. The collar tightened around my neck and I wheezed; he leaned in close to me, his stinky breath fanning my face. Eyes narrowed and lips pinched together, the anger was clearly visible on his face. "She's no longer with us! But, the questions is, are you?"
I frowned. "I-I'm not on their side."
"Good," he muttered, releasing my shirt. "It'd be stupid of you to take her side, son. Because, if I see her there, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger - don't make me kill you, too." Then, leaving me gaping in shock, he whirled around and stomped out of the living room into the kitchen where his friends were gathered, chatting. Without realizing, I fell backwards onto the couch, flopping down on the bouncy cushion. Sh*t, I thought, gripping a handful of my hair. This wasn't good; my father was blinded by hatred that he was willing to kill his own daughter.
What was I going to do?
I couldn't hurt my sister; flashes of the past appeared in my head. From the days of chasing each other at the park to the days where she scared my dates away, so I would stay home and watch some horror movie with her. It wasn't her fault she was doomed to be an Alpha's mate; it wasn't her fault she was stuck in the situation she was in. Suddenly, the front door opened and Kyle popped his head in, looking around in caution. Seeing my father gone, he stumbled back to the couch across from me, a lazy grin on his face.
But, when he noticed the scowl on my face, his grin disappeared. "Dude, what's wrong?"
"Everything."
"What'd your Dad say?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Is he made about the beer?"
"Not really," I muttered, shaking my head. My sister's face appeared in my head - her freckles, crooked smile, and green eyes. "F*ck! Look, I need you to help me, okay? You owe me."
He shrugged. "Anything."
"I need your help figuring out which of the two Alphas is her mate," I told him, slowly rising to my feet. I popped my knuckles and rolled my neck, feeling the soreness from training. "I'm paying my little sister a visit."