Midnight Scarlet » Stilinski

Eight

                                                        Chapter Eight

 

 By the time Lydia drops me off at the Hale house, it’s dark. She insists on keeping the dress in her possession until she feels I’m ready for it, so I walk up the creaky steps only carrying one bag of clothes that I could go hunting in.

            I raise my hand to knock on the door― which has been marked with the alpha pack symbol― but it swings open silently. I enter, walking across the floor lightly so I don’t make a noise. Werewolf ears are very sensitive, and if I can make it to my room and lock the door without Derek or Peter hearing, I’ll be one happy camper. Unfortunately, the wooden floorboards don’t want me to stay hidden.

            Derek appears in the entryway, arms crossed. He flashes a fake smile in my direction. “I’m glad you finally appeared to show up. We were beginning to worry.”

            I scoff, “Oh, so I can’t ‘be normal’ and have friends? I can’t have a little freedom?”

            Derek rolls his eyes at my attitude and Peter walks towards me, the shadows relinquishing him. He grasps my hands between his while I glare at him with malice. “Of course you can have a little freedom, dear, but we wouldn’t want you running away now, would we?” His touch is cold, and I pull my hands free.

            “If I wanted to be controlled, I would’ve stayed at the pack house,” I say, starting up the stairs. Of course, I didn’t choose to stay here either. If I had my way, Beacon Hills would be long gone by now. But I’ve never had a choice in anything.

            Peter calls out from down below, but I don’t turn around. “Six days, Aubrey. Time is running out.”

            I try and swallow my fear as I lock my bedroom door shut. Without turning on the florescent light, I throw my bags in a corner of the room and remove my boots, setting them next to the pile. Sighing, I run my trembling fingers through my hair.

Six more days to find out why the alpha pack came to Beacon Hills. Six more days to realize that I can’t get the information. Six more days until my death.

            My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, and I perch on the corner of my dusty bed. Suddenly, the light on my table turns on, and I feel the presence of someone behind me, their body close to mine. I scream.

            Then, just like in the woods, I recognize the smell and become silent, trying to tame my frantic heart. Glancing behind me, I punch the figure in the arm hard. “Jake, what the hell are you doing here?!”

            He winces, rubbing his arm gently. “You asked me to drop your clothes and things off.”

            Isaac opens the door slowly and peers in, looking at me with worry. “Is everything okay in here?” Then, he sees Jake sprawled out on the bed and his eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s you.” The way he says it makes me realize that Isaac isn’t fond of Jake. And the way that Jake is glaring back, I think the feeling is mutual.

            I plaster on a smile and gaze up at Isaac. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for checking.” He nods and walks out, closing the door behind him.

            Jake lays his head down on my pillow and mutters under his breath. “That guy is so nosy.”

            I flop down next to him, and turn my face towards his. “I screamed because you scared the crap out of me, and he just wanted to see if I was okay. He’s nice.”