Blood Pact: The Embrace

The calm before the storm

"Olivia?" Nathaniel’s quick shout caused me to shudder away from my thoughts.

“Yes?” I asked meekly.

“You were spacing out,” he told me, getting up from the table and collecting the soup bowls. “I was trying to talk to you about what happened.” He sat back down after putting the dishes away. “I do have questions, you know.”

"Like what?" I looked up at him, curious.

"Well, for example, what did you do to that wolf?" he gazed at me.

"I don't know what you mean," I chose to look at the fire, observing its dancing flames. I was in deep trouble, and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. I had no idea how much Nathaniel knew about what had happened back in the forest.

"You made that wolf cry just by looking at him. And I noticed your expression at the time as well. You were so focused on him, frowning deeply. It looked like you were inflicting pain to it just by looking at him. That's not normal."

How could I get away from this subject? It was extremely delicate, and I had made a vow never to tell anybody what I was ever again. Confessing my secret to another person is what got me in this whole situation in the first place. I couldn't risk it, even if Nathaniel seemed like a trustworthy person.

"I have no idea what you mean. And you were there for all that time, and  only bothered to step in just at the last second? What were you aiming at?" I shouted at him, getting angry.

 He looked away and fiddled with a towel. "I had no obligation to step in. I just knew I would have felt bad if I left you there. But I was curious what you were going to do—I wanted to know what you were playing at," he said it all without a touch of guilt in his voice. Apparently, this whole night turned up to be about a lot of luck, and a werewolf who was actually conscience.

I sighed and massaged my forehead. Why am I so weak? I hate being at the mercy of fate. I want nothing more than to get stronger and seek revenge against all those bastards that betrayed me. At the time, I had no clue how to deal with Nathaniel, nor what to say to him so he could leave me be.

“Fine, then where are you from?” Nathaniel asked, leaning forward on the table.

I crossed my arms. "I'm from Wentworth."

“Where are your parents?”

“No clue.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me skeptically.

I sighed. “They left me when I was four. Sold the house, moved away. I was raised by my grandmother.” I looked down at the table, sadness returning as I remembered it all.

I was long past and through with the outbursts of rage when I felt neglected and unwanted, which basically marked the most of my teen years. My grandmother, I believe, was the greatest blessing in my life. Without her, I have no idea what would have become of me. Life was just a continuous struggle of getting by another day, and then there were the few friends I had. They often described me as a timid girl, unable to break from her comfort zone, just satisfied with being a bystander to life. That was the best way for me to cope with the misery that surrounded me.

“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel said sincerely. I noticed he was feeling a little out of place, and maybe regretted asking me all of this.

“Not your fault,” I sighed. “Doesn’t matter—never needed them in the first place.”

“You don’t any other relatives?” he asked sympathetically.

 “Besides my grandmother, no," I replied, shaking my head.