Wolf #2: The Beast Within [COMPLETED]

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"What have you done!"

Blood. Death. Corpses scatters around at our feet.

He snarls and lunges at me. A blade. A golden blade. It goes through me, sliding between my ribs. I cry out, grabbing the kaftan as blood bleeds through onto the material.

Looking up slowly at him, tears bleed from his eyes. Shock sharpens both our eyes.

"You are blinded by your hatred. You will never be a king."

He yells loudly, plunging the knife in and out of me. I feel nothing after the third stab, only lay limply in his arms.

The blood of my children on my hands. The blood of his mate on his. We will both see each other in hell. Orion.

I sit up with a hand over my mouth, but my strangled croak echoes through the apartment. I wipe at the strands of hair plastered to my wet cheeks and take a deep breath. It was just another vision. Everything is fine.

"Amelia?" Rachel is at the door, "You alright?"

"Yeah," I somehow keep my voice straight, "Go back to sleep, Rach."

Her footsteps pad off and I hear her bedroom door shut. I sit in my bed for a couple more minutes, staring out the window. It's beginning to look like the sun was rising, though when I check my phone, it's a few minutes before four in the morning.

I'm tempted to try call Jace again but remember that he'll still be asleep. He still hasn't called me back from the other day. Opening up my photos, I scroll through the photos of him. A grin spreads across my face as I look at each photo, remembering all the great memories we made in this past year.

All the bonfire parties and school lunches—there's a stack that we took when we had gone hiking on a school day. I find a cute one of us from my senior prom.

I hate this. I shouldn't be lying here and hoping there's a future for us when I already know there isn't. Two massive hurdles are in front of us—one being Natalia, and the other being The Order. A third one, I guess, would be Jace himself.

Even if I somehow get over the fact that he had been with Natalia the night my parents had died...and done who knows what with her, I don't know how I will be able to work around The Order's demand of Prophets leaving their mates behind.

Zemira. Iphigenia's voice echoes in my head. I see myself dressed in Turkish clothing, a silk covering my hair and mouth. Kohl-lined, blue eyes burn brightly and defiantly. Whoever this past version of me is, she wasn't a pushover. She had played the game to her own rulebook and by no one else's. But if my dream has any truth to it then it hadn't ended well for Zemira.

I have a dreadful feeling that it never ends well for Iphigenia's reincarnations.

I climb out of bed. My mind is too buzzed to even think about going back to sleep. Leaving my phone on the bedside table, I grab my puffy coat and head outside. The air is frigid despite it being summer, but I guess that's Alaska for you.

Looking around, I see no one wandering around. I suspect there's some kind of patrol, but they are well-hidden. For the first days we were here, Mac posted a couple guards at the bottom of the stairs of the apartment. We were only allowed out for a certain time before they would usher us back in. Rachel and I had rarely ventured out though, choosing to just hang out in the back yard of the packhouse to avoid having the guards follow us.

Nancy had kept us busy too, and I can already tell that I'm going to learn a lot from her. She has a delicate way of teaching, patient and letting my experiment with herbs unlike Mallory. Perhaps it's because of the structure and discipline Mallory has taught me that allows Nancy to be more lenient with me—I'm not sure. But I enjoy my time in her little clinic.