HIDDEN WOLF

Chapter 3: Judas’ Diary

Lyria stepped out of the bathroom, her shoulders stiff and her breathing uneven. The reflection stayed in her head-the impossible image of her very own eyes glowing an unnatural blue. She closed her fists at her sides, and her anger entwined with her confusion. Chafing in her memory was the vampire's mocking grin; her lips went into a thin line.

What's happening to me?" she muttered, shaking, as she went down the hall. Her heartbeat raced in her chest, like a thudding drum. Was she losing her grip on sanity? The scenarios churning in her mind just didn't make sense. She tried to push the thoughts aside.

It had to be the meds, it just had to be. That was soothing for her. Skipping doses could mess with her mind and make her see things that actually weren't real. Guess that was why her parents made it compulsory.

By the time she rejoined her companions, her face was a mask contrived to hide any hint of tumult. Talia's keen eyes swept her instantly, her lips parting as if to pose the question, but Lyria spoke first.

"Let's go," she said, her tone firm and commanding.

Callan moved closer to her, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Are you sure you are all right? You were gone for some time."

“I’m fine,” Lyria replied, brushing past him. “I just needed a moment alone. Really.”

Talia gave a look to Callan but said nothing, though suspicion flickered in her gaze. They followed her out to the parking lot where Talia's car waited. Lyria slid into the backseat beside Callan; the smell of leather that was so familiar calmed her nerves a little. Talia took the wheel silently, but her silence felt heavier than usual.

The air in the car was thick with an uncomfortable feeling, but broke when Callan leaned over toward Lyria. "Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked gently, his voice low and almost whispering.

Lyria faltered for a moment, her defenses lowering at the softness of his tone. She nodded, her eyes meeting his. "I'll be fine. Thanks for checking.

The edges of Callan's face softened, and he laid a hand on hers. His touch was warm, anchoring her into this moment. "You know you don't have to go through things alone, right? I'm here. Always.

The words swelled her heart, and the sincerity in his eyes tightened her throat. She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting her tension drain out. The chaos of her mind, at least, subsided in his presence, and for the first time that evening, she felt safe.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Callan's arm slipped about her shoulders, drawing her near. The nearness of him, the quiet rise and fall of his breathing, was enough to anchor her. She let her eyes drift closed, permitting herself the luxury of the moment.

She clutched the wheel tightly in her grip, her eyes never straying from the road ahead. Her jaw only clamped enough to make her silent, nothing more. Lyria, comforted by the warmth of Callan, didn't catch the glint of something unreadable reflected in her rearview mirror.

As they reached her house, Callan walked her right up to the door. The air was taut with an unspoken closeness, the flush rising in Lyria's cheeks when he took her hand in his.

"Goodnight," he whispered low and soft.

"Goodnight," she whispered back; her heart went into a flutter where their fingers touched.

Inside, the cold was buckled away by the residual warmth from Callan's touch until her father's sharp voice cut through the silence.

"Lyria. Living room. Now.

She felt her stomach drop and kicked off her shoes to trudge towards the living room, where her father was waiting with his usual air of authority. The moment she stepped in, his eyes, piercing as they were, found hers, and she shrunk into the child version of herself under the weight of his gaze.

"Sit," he said, nodding to the couch opposite him.

"What is it?" she asked, even though she had the ominous feeling that she already knew.

He did not beat about the bush. "Your medication. You have been skipping it."

Lyria went numb, as her brain began racing. "How do you know?"

"Do you think that I would never know?" he snarled. "You have been reckless, Lyria. Can't you understand how dangerous that is?"

Anger turned her chest tight. "I'm fine. Nothing has happened."

"Yet," he said, stressing strongly. "You think this is a game? You know what is at stake!

"I'm sick of living this way!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "You don't know what it is-never left alone, spoken to like I'm damaged. I just wanted to be normal just this once!"

Her father's face momentarily softened, while his voice remained firm. "It isn't about being normal. It's about surviving."

"Is that all I mean to you? Something to be taken care of?"

His silence was louder than words, and hers just hung there, a heavy cloud in the air. The tension between them was unbearable until her mother came in, her voice slicing into the tempest.

"Enough," she said; there was no arguing with the tone of her voice. "This isn't helping either of you. Lyria, go to your room."

Lyria's hands shook as she stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind her. Hot, bitter tears streamed down her face un-checked. She pressed her back against the door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Why couldn't they understand? Why did everything have to feel like a battle?

Sleep didn't come easily that night, and when it did, her dreams were restless.

Two days later, Lyria and her father had even things out and she’d agreed to keep taking her meds. At the moment, she'd even forgotten the argument, as the long awaited midterm ball was here at last. Lyria stood outside the school entrance, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. Her dress shimmered underneath the lights, a dark navy that clung to her figure and made her feel, for once, confident.

Talia arrived not too long afterward, her own outfit simple yet stunning. Her hair was done in perfect fashion, her makeup perfect.

"You look amazing," Talia said with a candid smile.

"So do you," Lyria replied, her voice much softer. The unease that had filled the days before still hadn't left her body, but she forced herself to focus on the night ahead.

Talia took her hand and pulled her along. "Come. I need to redo my makeup before we go in.

They slipped into the bathroom, where Talia set her clutch on the counter and began fussing with her eyeliner. Lyria leaned against the wall, watching her friend's reflection.

"Who's your date?" Lyria asked, trying to make conversation.

"Aldane," Talia replied casually. "You've heard of them, right? One of the royal houses among humans."

"Impressive. How'd you manage that?"

Talia shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "I have my ways.

Lyria's soft laughter increased her unease. She turned and looked out the small bathroom window, her breath catching in her throat. High in the firmament hung the full moon, its light casting strange shadows. Her chest went tight, and her feelings spiralled into chaos.

"I need some air," she muttered, pushing off from the wall.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Talia asked, concerned with flickering in her expression.

"I'm fine. I'll meet you inside."

Talia hesitated, then nodded. She took her clutch and ran out, but in her haste, a book slipped from it unnoticed. Lyria did not realize that until she was alone. As she picked it up, curiosity nagged at her.

It was a diary.

Lyria's heart pounded as she opened and read it, her guilt battling with the uncontrollable urge to know. These words cut deeper than she could have imagined.

She had been in love with Callan for years, and every entry dripped with envy and resentment, detailing her plans to come between them. Lyria's vision blurred over as the betrayal set in. Her chest heaved, and she clutched the diary tightly enough her knuckles showed white.

Why would she write that down? Why… they’d met at the same time over like when they were twelve and have been friends ever since, why then after all those years would she be having this in her diary. For some reason she wanted to question her but something was wrong with her emotions, and she was just so angry.

All the memories of them being friends and smiling together began to fracture in her mind, and at last what remained was one thought: Her friend, the one with whom she'd shared everything with had been plotting against her all this time.

A wave of anger enveloped her as she stormed out of the bathroom, the diary still clutched in her hand. At once, her gaze scanned the crowd; her eyes were narrowed to slits to find Talia. Before she could see her, a multitude of figures blocked her path. The group of vampires she'd bumped into in the toilet were here now.

The leader stepped forward, curling his lips in a sly grin as his eyes gleamed under the lights, holding out a hand.

"Care for a dance, Lyria?