Intertwined

Chapter Ten

"Are you sure you're ready for all of this," Lyall started. He'd been so close to me that it was difficult to concentrate.

I kept a sturdy reminder that this conversation was serious. I couldn't reach over and kiss him whenever I wanted, not yet. I'd have to be intent on his words, listening to every single syllable, every break, and of course the content of what he'd say. The focus wouldn't be for the purpose of running like he'd want it to be. I'd focus on what he had to say because this information would tie up the loose ends. This information would finally bring me out of the dark.

"Absolutely," I lied.

"You don't have to look excited about it," he said before chuckling. I didn't say anything else, hoping he'd just start. We had a terrible habit of getting lost in the trivial. "It's impossible to find a beginning. I've been wrapped up in this life for so long that everything seems so natural. It's common sense to me, but I'd have to work backward for you."

He gathered his thoughts while I waited patiently. No matter how hard I tried, I'd lose myself in the intricate bone structure of his face, or the green in his eyes that were shadowed by his eyelashes. He didn't move, allowing me to graze my fingers across his.

"How much have you put together?" Lyall asked.

"Enough to know that there is more to you than meets the eye."

"Like?" he pushed.

"Like, Marleene can conduct magic through her fingers. You have some sort of authority over everyone," I struggled to say this last part, "And you saved me last night, in the clearing."

"Have you theorized?"

"I haven't really had the time to," I said.

"If you had to, what would you think I was?" he asked, seriously.

"I don't know, I can't really come up with anything on the spot like this."

His eyes didn't meet mine when he said, "what did I look like?"

I'd been fighting against the images so hard that letting them in went against the grain. I had to let go of that subconscious wall to see.

The memories flooded in. The dam crumbling, gushing tidal waves of images and dreams, pulling me under. Drowning and choking, I tried to picture the four monsters. Their lengthy figures and extreme builds differed from the largest one. All of them related, all of them beast-like. I followed the memory further back, trying to bypass the brutal death of that woman. I couldn't avoid it completely, I shuddered while watching her blood scatter in front of me. Right before she died though, I caught it, caught the sound that sealed the resemblance. The howl that echoed off the trees.

"Wolves," I breathed. I was sure he couldn't have even heard it.

He nodded, biting his lower lip in anxiety, "can you connect that to anything?"

I tried to. Not putting my full effort into thinking, because I knew what I would find. The word suspended in my mind like apples in a low-hanging tree. So easy to grasp but so difficult to speak. To speak it was to make it true. I took in a deep breath, "Werewolf."

"Yes," he admitted, quiet.

My heart pounded against my ribcage.

"You're shaking, are you okay?" he said, ready to comfort me, his hands hovered around me, not sure if his touch would be welcomed or not. Like the touch of a werewolf would scare me too much, as if it would push me over the edge.

"I'm... good," I said, "I think I'm better than good actually."

His eyes widened, "'better than good?' You don't have to lie."