The Real Harpoon
981 Words
(Lara’s POV)
Then, out of nowhere… one night
“I would like to choose another mate,” he said.
Just like that.
No warning. No explanation. No nothing.
I just stood there. Numb. Smiling like an i***t while my world crumbled, again.
When asked why, he looked me dead in the eyes and said:
“I can’t spend the rest of my life with an immature wolf who hasn’t even developed her mystic art... or her second wolf form.”
The other pack members my age laughed. Mocked me.
I remember just standing there, frozen. I couldn’t even breathe.
All I can do is blame my mom, but deep down... I knew. What’s done is done.
I cried for days. It felt like a harpoon had been shot into my heart. My so-called perfect life began crumbling fast. You know how if your love life crashes, everything else just follows? That was my life.
The only people who stood by me were Mom... and Emma. My best friend.
The present. At school.
It’s been three years since that mess.
I’m 21 now in university. Still haven’t developed my mystic wolf art. Everyone my age has passed me, ranking higher in the pack, stronger, faster.
“Hi, Lara,” a coursemate greeted.
“Hi,” I replied flatly.
I’m always busy. School. Work. Sleep. Repeat. No time for love, and no interest, either. I even stopped attending pack meetings. Stopped going to the pack altogether. Love? Over it. Now I’m chasing money. I work part-time and study law. Yeah, ironic, right? A werewolf studying law.
One evening at the store I worked, a man walked in, dressed in all black, something like a guitar coffin strapped to his back. He bought a soda, and he stared at me for what felt like hours. It was like he was looking through me. Into my soul.
That night, I went to the restaurant where Emma worked. After her shift, we headed to her place for dinner and a little gossip. She brought up my mystic wolf art again.
“It’s no good,” I muttered. “Still nothing.”
“Don’t give up, I know you have it in you,” she said.
With a smile, I replied, “I won’t, thanks.”
We changed the topic and started talking about the guy she’s been chatting with lately.
So, how is your Internet romance going? I asked teasingly.
She replied sarcastically, “He is dead into me, like heads over heels.” Classic Emma.
“Bunch of weirdos,” I said, and she smiled.
After dinner, I headed home.
The house was empty, normal for full moon nights. Mom had gone to the pack meeting.
My phone rang. Mom. I didn’t answer.
Home alone, I remembered my conversation with the girl from the pack at school.
“Did you hear? Harry found a new mate. They’re perfect for each other,” she said, smugly.
On my bed, "Good for him," I said, almost casually.
"He’s an alpha, so of course he thinks he's some grand alpha. Tch. I hope he has a miserable death… no, what am I saying?"
I laughed bitterly. "I'm the one who gave up. I'm the one wasting away."
That’s when I heard the footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Around the house.
Mom never came home this early. Not on nights like this. She usually returned around 5 a.m.
Then the doorbell rang.
I grabbed the closest thing I could find, a glove.
Don’t judge me. I was scared, and it was the only thing nearby. Just go with it.
I peeked out the door...
It was Emma.
She rushed in, paranoid, shaking. I calmed her down the best I could.
“We have to run,” she blurted.
(Emma’s POV)
I didn’t know where else to go. My legs moved on their own, my heart pounding like it wanted out of my chest. I reached her doorstep, barely aware of the world, only the sound of footsteps behind me, getting closer.
I rang the bell. Just once. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She opened the door with a glove in her hand. A glove. That was all she had to defend herself? I didn’t even ask. I just pushed in.
She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
“We have to run,” I said, trying not to scream.
“What? Run from what? Emma, breathe.”
I couldn’t. Not until I told her. “I… I pretended to be you. Online. Told this guy I was a werewolf who had just consumed a unicorn. He’s into that fantasy stuff, I thought… maybe… I don’t know…”
She stared at me like I’d lost my last brain cell.
Then I said it: “He’s a hunter. And he’s coming.”
She blinked. “You… what?”
I nodded quickly. “He thinks I’m you. And he’s coming for me.”
“Emma, listen to me calm down, it’s all okay, it’s just a weirdo who is just seriously into you, and likes the crippy stuff.”
I replied, Are you sure?” I continued, a little relieved, “He’s not like the people that killed your dad?” I asked.
Then, we heard footsteps. This time, circling the house.
We paused.
I grabbed her arm. “Call someone. Anyone!”
“I can’t call the police!” she said, scared just like me, but trying to be brave.
“I’m not asking for the police, call your pack! Like, howl or something!”
She looked at me, almost angry. “I don’t know how. Only alphas can do that. And who knows it might be Mo—”
Thwip.
The sound came first.
Then the blood.
A harpoon-shaped arrow pierced her shoulder. I watched her stumble, and at that moment, reality snapped in.
He found us.
- Writer
