A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

"It seems as if the Council has tracked you as a recent convert, when you are actually not fully converted," he says quietly, leading me to the worst possible conclusion.

"So..." I look at the screen again and again, "they want to kill me." That can't be true. I never hurt anybody. I didn't even want to be a werewolf. And now this?

"You'll be okay," Xavier wraps an arm around my shoulder, "we won't let them do anything to you. I promise."

I try to drown in his comforting presence, but this time, it does no good. It only makes the pain worse. My heart pounds, thumping furiously in my chest.

"You shouldn't have told her," Ray says loudly. He narrows his eyes at Xavier.

"| would rather have her know the truth," Xavier hisses at his identical counterpart, "and there is no helping it now. We can't just wipe her memories."

Silence erupts in the room as I quickly walk away, hoping that I will reach my room before a single tear falls.

"Well, Xavier, that doesn't exactly give you any brownie points," I hear as my footsteps reach the hallway.

Who cares about brownie points at a time like this?!

I start to run, my feet flying, even blurring as I pound to my bed. Once I am there, I bury myself below the covers, trying to quell the thumping of my heart. Before, I never would have cared about dying, but now I don't want it. It used to be so close that I could kiss its dry, crackled lips, but now I fear it.

The werewolves have frozen time for me. They have thrown away my old body. They have filled me with promises that I would live forever.

And now they want to kill me.

Something about that doesn't seem quite right.

A presence enters the room; a beautiful, glossy-haired man that always takes my breath away. He comes to sit by my side, staring into my eyes.

"You don't believe me when I say that I'll protect you?" his thick, velvety voice murmurs, a graceful hand stroking my hair.

"I just don't know, Xavier," I whisper, shutting my eyes tightly. Do I believe? Do I really?

A fierce, determined look enters his eyes, flame alight. His fingers snap away from my hair, clenched in a fist. "Well, what do I have to do then?" he almost yells, scrunching up his eyebrows in fury. "I've saved you from practically everything. I have been at your side constantly. What more do you need to finally trust me?" I can feel his frustration, his lack of comprehension at my behavior. I don't quite understand either.

Anger begins to boil within me as well, irrelevant anger that doesn't make much sense in my head. "Well, where were you ten years ago? When my parents were murdered?" I say softly, menacingly. Each word is meant to be a sharp stab, a burning pain within him.

He just stares at me, a wondering look on his face. Then he gets up, his elegant form brushing against the stool he was leaning against, and nearly stumbles out of the door.

Tears brim at the corners of my eyes, and I let them fall down my face in rivers.

I remember when I was younger, when life made sense. When I had two parents, a house, and a pet. At times like these, Scotty would scramble into my arms, barking crazily until he was safely perched in my embrace. Then I would hug him, and his warm fur would absorb my sadness until it was sucked away.

Why did I say those things to Xavier? He couldn't have known about my parents' death, let alone save all three of us. I am being so unreasonable, so stubborn and like a spoiled brat. I AM a spoiled brat, not thankful for what I have.

Not many can say they are mates with a hot, stalker-like werewolf.

I guess it is my greediness biting inside me, making me wonder why even though I now have many things, it is like I have nothing. So much has changed... my heart has even been stitched back in place by a man I am unwilling to love. But I still feel empty, broken, like my heart has just unraveled and spilled onto the floor.

A conflict is raging inside my head. Xavier is a creep. He's obsessive. He's sweet. He's supernatural. He's forever.

He's the handsomest thing I have even seen.

Once again I bury my head completely under the covers, ashamed at myself. Xavier doesn't deserve to be hurt like this. I am the one at fault. I destroyed one of the things that matters to him the most.

His gigantic, incredibly treasured pride.

* * *

He does not look at me when I enter the room.

I have never felt this before. His cold, icy treatment has never been released upon me. In the two and a half weeks I have been staying here, his aura has always been warm, comforting. But now I feel unwelcome.

 Everyone else can sense this sudden shift in behavior. Xavier's face is like stone, impossibly beautiful, yet unchangeable. Yi is just sitting at the kitchen table, playing with his spoon. Wes doesn't flirt with me, shooting me a brief, encouraging smile.

Jake hands me a small milk carton and a bowl of yogurt. "Eat up," he says brightly. I grab a spoon off the table, shoving it into the sweet, yummy goodness and letting it linger right in front of my lips before closing my mouth over it.

"Please sit down," he directs me to a chair; "we have to talk to you about some things." Being careful not to make eye contact with the blue-haired beast, I plop down, staring into Jake's green eyes.

"What is it?" I say as if I am being forced to sit through a funeral for someone I don't even know, shifting my facial features to suggest that I would rather be anywhere but here. I know I should apologize to Xavier, but my own arrogance does not allow it. All that fills me is bitterness. Heart-wrenching bitterness.

I sneak a quick glance at Xavier, only to find that he is staring at the wall, the window, anything but me. Anger is on the edge of his lips, and his face is resolute. He suddenly turns, catching my gaze, and I finally get to see his eyes. They are burning hot, like fire, scorching me completely. Quickly I look away.

"Mona," Jake starts slowly, "we are going to do everything we can to protect you."

I suddenly get the feeling he is bringing bad news.

"So until Wednesday, you will have personal bodyguards. One will be Xavier, obviously, but Ray also volunteered himself. They will follow you everywhere, Ray in the shadows, Xavier right by your side. Is that clear?" he asks sharply.

"Yes." It is not like I have a choice, anyways. And why would Ray want to guard me?

"And on Wednesday, they will both transport you to a safe haven, where the Council will not be able to find you. We will stay here and fight."

Alarm rises within me. "What good will that do? I don't want you guys to risk your lives for me! I refuse." The guilt would eat me alive if one of them died.

"Mona, we are okay with it. Chill out," Yi says between mouthfuls of Cheerios.

"At least let me fight along with you!" I beg.

"Let's face it," Ray smirks, "you wouldn't exactly be much help to us if you stayed, would you? You can't even conjure a spirit spear, and although you are stronger than the average human, you are also the weakest out of the werewolf population. Plus, you can get rather clouded judgment, and that doesn't exactly help you when fighting."

This is when Xavier would usually punch him in the face, but this time, he doesn't budge.

"Ray got a point there," Yi swallows the rest of his milk, smiling with a white mustache. I narrow my eyes at him, almost snarling. However, I feel almost helpless under their light attack, suddenly realizing how much I have grown to depend on Xavier over the last two and a half weeks.

"Just three days," I say softly, closing my eyes, trying to imagine the probable scenario. Ray stalking me, Xavier walking by my side like a robot. Fun...

"Oh, and you will have to miss school," Jake adds, almost like an afterthought. My eyes grow as wide as saucers.

"WHAT?!" I roar, almost causing the table to shake.

"I knew she wouldn't take it well," Ray muttered to an immobile Xavier, nearly causing my rage to explode.

"The council might be tracking you through the school," Jake tries to explain, "and then it will be easy for them to ambush you on the way home or something. When they realize we aren't traveling to Headquarters on Wednesday, they will immediately send their spies after you."

"Fine," I throw my hands in the air, leaving my half eaten yogurt on the table. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'll just go outside and celebrate my lost privacy."

I stomp away, very much aware of the fact that I resemble a toddler rather than an eighteen year old girl. I've pretty much gotten used to these theatrical entrances and exits... I'm more of a drama queen than I thought.

The world swirls around me as I open the doors to the garden, breathing in deeply as I am enveloped in beautiful sights and aromas. The flowers are even prettier than yesterday, growing more in maturity and loveliness. The colors are bright, as if they are sucked out of the rainbow itself. Trees, full of fresh, decadent fruit, sit pleasantly around the area. I walk over to a peach, and daintily pick it from the leaves. A clear fountain is in the middle of it all, perfectly clean and filtered, and I run the water over the delicacy. With finality, I chomp a bite out of the side, almost sighing as the sweetness almost rolls off my chin. This is pure luxury, one of the finest things I have tasted.

Why is everything so perfect here? Everything is always so clean in the mansion, but I never see them pick up a broom. The food grown here are so delicious, yet I never see anyone tending to them. My clothes always return in my closet immaculately laundered and groomed, but I'm not sure even Xavier knows where the laundry room is.

There must be more going on around here. I am sure of it.

I go to sit by the fountain, balancing edgily on the side, at peace with the world around me. When I finish my peach, I hold it up with my good arm and throw it almost a hundred yards away into the vast forest. Let it decompose over there.

Life has been so easy... without the domestic chores Ms. Penn used to stack upon me, all I have left to do is homework and socializing with the werewolves around me. However, living in a haven with hot guys has its bad points. I always feel like I have to look pretty and attractive around them, like I can't wear sweatpants or oversized t-shirts. Whenever I wear something revealing, though, I am immediately scavenged by their eyes. It can be rather uncomfortable.

I can't even remember the time when I didn't care about clothes and looks, even though that time was only a while ago. I have no idea if that is bad or not, but it is certainly a sign of my definite change.

"Ray, you can come out now," I say nonchalantly, staring pointedly at a slightly ruffling bush about five yards away. There is silence, and I look at it dubiously. "Seriously, Ray, come out," I demand. "I know you are there."

"Have I gotten worse?" Ray moaned as he trooped from behind the bush, "Now even a measly crossbreed can detect my