The Hunt

The Truth Will Set You Free

The room is spinning, and my mind is running a hundred miles an hour. She smells the same, looks the same and sounds the same. But the feeling as her arms wrap around me is completely alien. The warmth that I used to feel in her embrace is not there. Her skin is cold, and her words provide no comfort.

“You look beautiful, darling,” she whispers teary-eyed as she sways with me in her arms. “You look so grown up.”

“No…” I mutter as I pulled away. My mouth is dry. It’s difficult to speak, and I have to force every single word through a lump in my throat. “This isn’t right. You’re not really here. It can’t be. Am I going crazy?”

I look around the room frantically and no one wants to meet my eyes. The atmosphere changed as soon as I uttered the word “mom”.

“I’m right here, honey,” she tries to reassure me, putting her hands on my shoulders like she used to. “I’m here and everything is going to be okay now.”

“No!” I’m shouting now. I can no longer control myself. I feel warm tears rolling down my face and I just completely break down. “I have buried you! You, Miranda, and dad. He killed you. He killed you all! You are all dead. We had a funeral…”

I feel bile rising in my throat and my whole body is shaking. I can’t trust my legs as they threaten to give in under my weight and the weight of everything unfolding in front of me. Tumbling backwards, I sank down to my knees and looked up at the woman that was… Is? My mother.

“Miranda and I are fine,” she smiles, a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. There’s a certain degree of coldness behind it. Her eyes flash with something I can’t recognize, and it makes the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand at alert. “He has given us a second chance.”

“You and Miranda? What about dad?”

“You know how your father is. He is stubborn. He doesn’t see reason, and he couldn’t see the greatness that Delvald wants to bring to our world,” her speech sounds robotic, there is no passion behind her words. “He had to kill him, otherwise he would have only stood in our way. In your way,” her eyebrows knit together and her face pales beyond natural. Finally, there is a resemblance of an emotion I can recognize. She is disgusted. With herself.

There is something awry with this picture. The colors are all wrong and the strokes of the brush are harsh and out of place. As I rise back up, my movement is fluent, and my eyes never leave hers. I take a step closer, and she takes a step back. I moved even closer. She shifts uncomfortably. Her eyes meet mine, and they’re screaming for me not to get any closer. Like every step that I take towards her is breaking something inside. I wanted to know what, so I took another step, moving into her personal space that hadn’t existed before today. Tears that she desperately fights cling to her lower lashes, and she blinks rapidly hoping they wouldn’t fall.

I’m ready to shoot out a million questions running through my head, but before I can form my thoughts into words and open my mouth, she cuts me off.

“Devland entrusted me to deliver you a message,” she straitened her back and her face shifted into a stone wall once again. Her lean long fingers collect my hands into hers. “You don’t belong here with these dogs. You belong with him. To him. You have until one week after your birthday to take your rightful place. If you don’t come to him, he will come for you. Killing anyone that stands in his way.”

She pulled her hands away, dropping her arms to her sides, and then she was gone in a blink. Only the smell of lilac and honey was left behind as a reminder of what had just happened. My eyes dropped to my hands where I could still feel her frantic fingers clinging to my skin. A piece of paper inside my clenched fist.

“Find her and kill her,” Alarick barked out.

People were already starting to move out of the office when I heard myself speak. My voice was stronger than I had ever heard it before.

“No!” it wasn’t a plea. That was a command.

I could see the confusion in their eyes. No one moved. Even Monica was standing still, eyes wide gawking at me. When our eyes met, she lowered her gaze in submission.

“What do you mean no,” he growled.

Alarick rounded the table, he was standing behind in three large steps and was now toe to toe with me. His eyes hooded, a storm brewing in them.

“You do not get to decide what happens now,” his voice cold, so different from what it was just an hour ago. “She just threatened my pack and my family. I’m not going to just let her get away with that,” his eyes softened before he continued, and he brushed my cheek lightly with the back of his hand. “She isn’t your mother anymore.”

“She didn’t threaten anyone,” my voice was even, but my eyes that only he could see filled with desperation, I couldn’t lose her again. I produced the paper from my palm and unfolded it between us, knowing deep inside, that it would speak my mother’s true words. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Alarick.”

As I looked down, I immediately recognized mom's handwriting. Calligraphy was one of her many hobbies. Every letter and word looped perfectly together, creating a greater piece of art than any of so-called artists nowadays could.

His words swim like poison through my lips.

Lies, lies, lies.

Never stop and never doubt yourself.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

Avenge your father.

Avenge your sister.

And if you can ever forgive me,

Avenge me too.