I sat on a large root and sighed. We had reached further enough in the woods to see the outline of the diner but we were still miles from it and couldn't keep moving now 'cause we had to prepare for the night that had already fallen.
I let my head drop backward and onto the tree trunk as I waited for Miguel and John to come back from searching for firewood.
I didn't trust John to go alone with Miguel but he had insisted that he'd be alright. It had taken some time for me to believe him because Miguel looked much stronger and heavier than John, but that didn't mean that I wasn't worried about him.
John had been creeping me out ever since he had turned to look back with that smirk on his face. As if he had heard what we had said.
"But that's impossible," I said aloud to no one. He was so far ahead that he'd have to be a demon or some sort of creature to actually hear what had been said.
I brushed that thought away. No way he could be. Even though he might seem strange, he had helped us to get away from the wolf and he'd guided us towards safety all the time.
Protecting us. Protecting me.
I groaned in frustration and rubbed my eyes. But it still didn't add up.
How had he pushed that wolf off me so lightly when it had weighed a ton? How did he manage to sleep with his eyes open and claim it to be a habit? How did the crystal stone end up with him when he had clearly told me that it did not exist anymore? And more importantly, how had I lost control over myself like that when we had kissed?
It wasn't like he wasn't attractive. He was, very much. But with all this going on I didn't have time to notice and actually have time to feel something.
What disturbed me the most was that Miguel had said that he'd seen me kissing John just as passionately as John had before he'd intervened. Also, by now that voice in my head would be tormenting me since it had never let me be in a relationship without torturing me day in, day out. It had never once left me in peace. So it certainly did not make any sense to me.
After about two minutes, my eyes began to flutter, yet I forced them to stay open. It wasn't that dark this night, thanks to the full moon, so I could see just enough of my surroundings without any fire. It was cold though, so I had to wrap my arms around myself in order to try to keep myself warm.
John and Miguel still had not returned and I was gradually getting more anxious each second. I forced sleep away from my eyes and rose to my feet. Wiping my butt with my hands to shake off the dirt, I strolled quietly into the woods to look for them.
"Miguel? John?" I called out, but not too loudly because I was wary of the beasts lurking around. I definitely did not want to catch unwanted attention.
"Miguel?" I called out again, squinting through the darkness as I stepped over a broken branch. My heart thumped hard against my ribcage just as my breathing quickened.
I got off the large root I was perched on and walked slowly towards the path that I remembered them take before gulping down the huge lump in my throat.
Something wasn't right. Something definitely wasn't right.
I couldn't hear a single cricket nor any nocturnal animal sounds. Nothing. Just silence. Only the crouching of my feet on sticks and stones could be heard.
"Miguel?" They might've gone further than I'd expected. Firewood wasn't hard to find in these parts of the woods so I had no idea what was keeping them so long.
Something snapped behind me and I stopped dead in my tracks. I whirled around swiftly and shrieked when a hand clasped my shoulder.
"John! Oh! Where have you been?" I gasped in shock when I saw his figure. Even in the dark, I could see the minor tears in his clothes and the blood that soaked his shirt. His hair was tousled and his pupils were slightly dilated.
"What happened to you and where's Miguel?" I asked quietly and breathed in deeply when he took a step forward.
"Oh, I'm perfectly fine Phoebe," John replied in a cool voice. One that didn't sound like him at all. He stepped closer again and I took a huge step back.
"Well, then." I furrowed my eyebrows. "But where's Miguel?"
"Miguel." John then stopped and acted as if he was recalling a moment before shrugging. "Why do you want to know?"
My heart then skipped a beat. What the hell is wrong with him? "John?" I cursed my voice for sounding shaky all of a sudden, but I couldn't help it. What kind of question was that? And why wasn't he answering straight?
Suddenly, I gulped. This wasn't John. It couldn't be.
"Are you scared of me, Phoebe?" he asked in a mocking tone that made my hands tremble.
I willed myself to keep my voice calm. "Why won't you answer the question?"
"You really want to know, don't you?" He arched an eyebrow with that mock expression still on his face.
I nodded slowly before unconsciously taking another step back when he drew closer.
"Well, if you insist." He held my gaze for a moment. "He's back where I'd just came from."
I almost breathed out a sigh of relief but held it back when another thought crossed my mind. "But why isn't he here now? With you."
Something flicked in John's eyes at that moment and it made me want to get the hell away from there and him.
"Because he can't leave."
My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "He can't leave? Why not?"
I saw a faint smile tug at the edge of his lips. "He's dead."
My eyes widened and my mouth fell open in utter shock. "No, that can't be," I said, forcing myself to believe immensely in my words.
"That's the truth, Phoebe," John said. "The wolf was there and it attacked us. I escaped but Miguel wasn't so lucky and neither was I judging by the state of my clothes." Tears welled up in my eyes as anger started to boil in my blood at the sound of John's nonchalant tone.
"If he is then why the hell do you seem so unfazed about this?!" I cried out as an overwhelming sense of anger and heartbreak flooded me.
"Because I don't give a damn about him."
That statement made me freeze. I lifted my eyes to John's as astonishment struck my expression. "John, what is wrong with you?"
"Nothing." He shrugged. "But tell me something, Phoebe." He walked closer again but this time I didn't have the mindset to move away from him. Miguel. Dead. My mind went blank at the realization of it. "What would you do, if I told you that I was the one who killed him?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
John smirked and traced a finger down my cheek which made my blood ran cold. "He put up a brave fight. I mean, look what happened to me." He pointed to his tattered clothes. "But on the bright side, it isn't my blood."
I still couldn't speak. I was too dumbfounded by what he was telling me and not a single muscle in my body could retaliate to this, so I just stood and barely listened with my eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me, Phoebe," he demanded but I couldn't focus on his words, nor his face, anymore. Miguel was dead. My only friend was gone. I was able to deal with Maddison's betrayal after a while but Miguel...? No, I could never.
"Damn it, Phoebe. Look at me!" he yelled and brought my chin up forcefully.
"What?" I hissed through my teeth and a tear managed to spill from my left eye as I raised my eyes to meet his own green ones.
But what I saw made my knees go weak and silent cry escape from my lips.
His eyes, once an enchanting bright steel-blue, were now bloody red as a giant smirk reappeared on his face. He then started to back me against the stem of the tree behind me.
"I believe that there's something I might've missed when telling you on the history of the first original wolves."
My heart could hardly take the pressure anymore. My throat became dry and my voice hoarse as I whispered amidst the tears that were now flowing down my cheeks. "Please, John. No," I croaked out.
"Oh, yes." He grinned. "I'm their first cub. And you," he traced a finger along my jawline, "are my mate."
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