Silverside Academy

A Final Embrace

“You always were a bold idiot.” The nasally, snivelling voice was like a shot of adrenaline. Jared would have recognized it anywhere. Even with the unwarranted emboldened tone. Wolves began to appear from the darkness.

He forced himself to chuckle. Each exhaling of laughter was accompanied by a rough, growling undertone. “And you were always a weakling. How many wolves had to sign on to come here before you grew your new, shiny spine? You never had the guts to face me alone.”

Another wolf appeared from the neighboring frame. He was half the size of Jared with unkempt fur in a sickly shade of blond. There he is. That bastard.

“You steal my betrothed, then call me a weakling? Have you no shame?” The purr under his whiney tone was repulsive.

More wolves appeared. Some chose to remain more wolf-like, while most chose their full werewolf forms.

“You’re outnumbered - and outclassed. Give up now, and we’ll make this quick.”

Jared let out a low, warning growl. “And make it easy for you?” This prick has some nerve.

Sinclair shook his head, his wispy fur seeming to float on the wind. “And make it easy for yourself… for your family.” His muzzle pulled up in a sneer.

Jared had never been a coward; not a day in his life. He’d led his pack boldly, found love boldly, but… When it came to his family… I guess I am a weakling after all. He thought. Or maybe just a sucker. When it comes to my girls, what can I say?

A picture reel began to play in his head. It started with the last time he’d seen Eilidh, scared and screaming, to the very first time - sleeping in her mother’s arms.

I can’t let myself get caught up now. Not if I want to get back to her in one piece.

He focused on the wolves around him.

Werewolves from strong packs with strong alliances. Modern-day regency in wolf wrappers. You may have fur, but you’re all snakes through and through. If you didn’t hate me more, you’d just as soon turn on each other.

They weren’t honorable, and he knew that they had no intention of sparing his wife and daughter.

The only way out of this is to fight.

“Hollow words,” he finally ground out.

Sinclair shrugged his thin shoulders. “Fine, then. Have it your way.” The bastard couldn’t help but grin. His sharp teeth gleamed even in the darkness.

But, of course, Sinclair didn’t fight him.

Instead, wolves seemed to come from every corner of the shadows.

They surrounded him, forming a living, writhing wall around a smaller area. There, wolves stepped forward to fight him 5 at a time. It wasn’t to do with honor, but practicality. Anymore and they would get in each others’ way.

It was easy.

At first.

Jared fought hard, In the beginning, he was able to put wolf after wolf into submission. But the swarm just kept coming. Some would take another round, others were happy to step back and become part of the barrier again.

He knew he might be in trouble when he started to feel tired.

The constant injuries, the constant healing, sapped him of his energy.

I can’t just take them out of the fight; I have to take them out.

He fought harder, pushing himself as far as he could go. He went from wounding the other wolves to killing them.

But with every one that fell, more would appear.

It wasn’t just a pack or two, it was a full-on clan.

Even after all this time. Almost a decade… It seemed his actions were still considered detestable. There was no mercy, no forgiveness. And, it would seem, there was no moving forward until he was punished.

Through the mass of fur and fangs, he caught a glimpse of Sinclair.

You really thought this out, didn’t you, you bastard? As he watched his old nemesis smirk, his legs gave out.

He collapsed to the ground, swallowed up by the other wolves’ claws and fangs.

How long did it take you to gather all of these supporters? Just to have your bit of revenge.

His healing ability could no longer keep up with all the damage his body was taking.

He could feel every part of him pouring out onto the ground. His vision grayed around the edges.

Even still, he could see that rat’s giddy expression.

He’d cut through the crowd, braver now that Jared was subdued.

“Hold him,” Sinclair’s command cut through the rushing in his ears.

Strong arms forced Jared to his knees, his henchmen’s claws digging into his biceps.

“How does it feel to know you fought so hard for nothing?” The smarmy smile that crested his lips lit a renewed fire in Jared. But…

His mind slipped to thoughts of her green eyes, so much like Eilidh’s. Then he thought of their daughter, pretty little thing that she was.

He thought of all her smiles, all the times she’d clung to his legs.

It was never for nothing, he thought. It was always for her. For them.

Sneering, Sinclair swiped one long, sharp claw across Jared’s throat.

His world faded slowly, but it wasn’t cold or scary. Instead, he felt a warm embrace. Her embrace.

I’m home. In his mind, he called the words out with a bittersweet sort of joy.

And in his ear, he could have sworn she whispered, “Hi, darlin’. Let’s rest together for a while.”

Back in her room, completely ignorant of her father’s last moments, Eilidh sat stubbornly by her window. She’d woken up in a bad mood, thoughts of the night her father passed away heavy in her heart.

It was an old wound that hadn’t healed.

That night she’d been sent to her room.

Even as a little kid, she had been tactile. She’d used her window to watch the chaos below. Her mother had gone between arguing with police and collapsing in on herself in waves. But the worst had come when E.M.S. arrived.

They’d gone looking for her father, and she had been watching as they wheeled his body back. The crunch of wheels on gravel and the urgent shouting of men with purpose heralded their return.

Jared wasn’t zipped up or covered like they always showed on T.V. He was just… there. Dead and mangled and nothing like the father she was used to.

Echoes of the argument she’d clung to until that moment whispered to her then, and through the years, as well.

He’s not just some daddy. He’s my daddy. My daddy is so strong, he could lift up cars if he wanted to. So what could a dumb dog do to him?

The man laid out on the stretcher couldn’t be her daddy.

He sort of looked like him, but there was something missing, and a lot wrong. He was hurt, and bit up, and looked scary.

And what was worse…

She’d always felt a special connection with her father. A little feeling in her heart when he was nearby that told her that he was thinking of her. But this man… this man didn’t have that at all.

She had screamed, but no one seemed to noticed. Because her mother had screamed, too. It took a while for the people outside to notice her. Her mother had fainted, drawing most of the attention. At last, a police officer came and tried to offer her comfort. But he wasn’t her daddy, and his arms didn’t make her feel safe.

Besides, he was a liar. She knew it from the first moment he said that everything was going to be okay.

Elidih shook herself, trying to stop the memory. She brought a shaky hand up to her eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just stay and finish our game?” It was a question she had asked the ghost of her father for years. But today, it wasn’t wistful. Instead, it had a bite; an edge.

She glanced towards her laptop, and her expression grew bitter. If he had just waited, maybe none of this ever would have happened.

And maybe…

She grimaced, even as a tear slipped down her cheek.

Maybe if you had waited, you could have told me to my face that I was a werewolf.