Wolf #2: The Beast Within [COMPLETED]

Chapter 4

A/N: After some time to think, I've decided to start posting again! I was so upset when I found out that my work had been plagiarised and it had been a huge discouragement to post anymore. But everyone's support and love for my first book really touched me! I love sharing this story with you, and I want to keep sharing stories with y'all!

So thank you to everyone who follows these stories, and shows their support to me and the other authors in the Wattpad community! 

Chapter 4

Amelia. Amelia.

They reach out to me. Waves of their blood sweep against my ankles. Their cries and pleas come at me like gusts of wind. Not all are sad or bereaved, but all of them want me to notice them. They want me to see them. To hear them.

Amelia.

Their Wolves howl and snarl. So many eyes. So many blank stares.

Fingers brush aside my hair and a woman's mouth presses against my ear. Amelia.

I'm compelled to hear her. Soft...chimes of bells move with her every breath. She speaks to me again, as quiet as the night.

Prophet. She says. Come and see.

"Amelia," Rachel grabs my arm, "Stop zoning out—we're lining up."

Come and see, Prophet of Death.

I turn to face her. Sashi. Her golden eyes pierce me to the core. They hold so many secrets, so much to say...so much to see.

She touches my cheek gently, like a siren coaxing a sailor into the depths of the sea. Child of Cecily. Blood of Kaltain. You are in danger.

She disappears as Richard sweeps me up into his arms, spinning me in circles with a loud laugh. I grab onto him though look over his shoulder. She's gone, replaced by graduates just like me in their caps and gowns.

"We're graduating!" He pulls me back and keeps me suspended in mid-air. For a second, I think he's going to kiss me, but he only continues to grin like a happy puppy.

I smile back and pat the top of his mortarboard. Young-Jae and Rachel are hugging each other tightly, squealing and bouncing on their heels in excitement. It's the kind of happiness and optimism that is addicting.

Richard sets me down on my feet just as the teachers begin to round us up. Young-Jae gives me a kiss on my cheek before running to where he is in the line.

"I'll see you after, Rich," I pat his arm before grabbing Rachel's hand, "I wish we were sitting together, Rach."

"Yeah," She smiles as we walk to the L and K section, "But I'll be sitting right behind you."

"Rach," I turn to her, "I'm really glad we're walking together."

I hug her tightly before I go ahead to the section of my line. Graduates from the homeschool programs and Fisher Point High School all line up to enter the stage.

You never know your height until you're lined up and comparing yourself to everyone around you. All I can see in front of me is everyone's shoulders and backs. The girl in behind me towers over me too, despite the fact that I'm wearing heels.

I look down at them—they're the black pointy-toed stilettos that Steph had bought me for my birthday. She was always trying to get me into heels. She couldn't understand how a ballerina who dance on the tips of her toes all day found high-heels uncomfortable. So she bought me this little number, making a compromise on the heel height and settling for a three-inch heel.