Chapter 4
880 Words
Chapter4
Serena
After they left, the silence didn't calm me down. It was thicker and heavier, as if their shadows were still stuck to the corners of that room; my skin crawled. I had heard about the Council since I was a child. Silver-robed old wolves, older than most pack, who held power in more ways than just their claws. Everyone feared them. They did not protect. They judged. They were only interested in control and bloodshed. Now they know I exist. My body was trembling so badly that I had to hug my knees in order to stop it. My breath was shallow and ragged. I wanted to curl up in the corner and disappear into the cracks on the wall, but I knew that it would not matter. They always got what they wanted.
I looked up as the door clattered again. They were back. Damien sat stiffening beside me with his hand hovering close to his holster. The tall wolf grinned as if he had never left. My heart slammed into my ribs as I asked, "Why are you here again?" The scarred one said, "We're still not done." Now his voice was more soothing, softer. You think that hiding behind someone will save you?" No. The human body is fragile. Breakable. Damien's jaw flexed. The tall man laughed. You keep saying that, Detective, as though the Council negotiates." I saw his eyes slide back to me. You feel it, do you not? Your blood's call. You can't run from what you are. You can't escape what you are. "I don’t belong to you," I spat as my voice was shaking. He tilted his head in amusement. "Defiant. "Just like your mother." "And look what that got her."
I felt the floor give way. I could not breathe. Damien moved quickly before I crumbled, stepping in front with a stance as sharp as a knife. The scarred wolf smirked, flashing his teeth. "Touchy. Are we already protecting ourselves? What a wonderful feeling. Protection is only temporary. Our claim is eternal." The air became thicker as their presence increased. It wasn't only muscle, but authority. Years of obedience were burned into every wolf's blood. They felt like chains even without touching me. And yet, Damien didn't back down.
The gun was slowly and steadily removed. In the silence, a faint click could be heard. The muzzle gleamed in the harsh light. He repeated, "Try me," with a low, dangerous voice. For a brief moment, the tall man's smile was hesitant, but he then laughed softly and slowly. "You have silver." Clever. Damien replied, "I've had enough." The scarred one moved closer. His gaze swept over Damien, me and then the other. "You can't hold her forever. She'll weaken. She'll slip. "And when she slips, she is ours." I violently shook my chin. "No. You'll never ...." "Shh," He cut me off almost gently, but his gold-colored eyes made my stomach bile. It's already been written. Each kiss you give will feed the curse. Each kiss you give brings us closer to you. "You can't change who you are."
Damien moved once more, his gun raised even higher. The taller wolf smiled thinly. He looked at Damien for some time and then turned to me. His voice became softer, almost pitiful. You'll soon see. "They always do." He gestured to his partner as he stepped back. Let's leave him his illusion of power." They slowly turned, carefully, as if they were waiting, not retreating. Their coats were swung with silver threads, which caught the light like knives.
The room was colder after the door closed behind them.
Damien
Each inhalation was shallow and sharp. She clutched at her knees as if they were all that held her together. My hand was still firmly gripping the gun as I holstered it. My pulse had not slowed down, not a bit. The Council. They weren't playing games. They wanted her. Badly. She was right. They wouldn't stop. She was still trembling, her eyes were still a faint silver. She was small and fragile. Now I know better. She was not fragile. She was like fire on human skin. She was being burned alive by fire.
The chair was scraping on the floor as I sat across from her. "You are okay?" Her laugh was bitter and broken. "Do I appear okay?" "No," was my honest answer. She was startled by my bluntness. "You don't seem to be okay," I said. "But you are still breathing." Still fighting. "That counts." Her lips parted as the words caught in her throat.
The walls cracked for a moment, and I could see the girl beneath all the fear. She was young, haunted, but still alive. She shook her head. "You don't understand. They will not stop. "Not until they own me." I tightened my jaw. Then they will have to go first through me." Her eyes widen, the silver glinting in the moonlight. Hope flickered for a moment. It vanished and was replaced by something sharper. She whispered, "You'll be dead." I spoke slowly and quietly, in a low voice. "But not until I make them pay."
The silence was heavy. I realised that this was no longer a simple case. This was war.
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