"So tell me why we got to die and kill each other one by one."
~ Lenny Kravitz, Are You Gonna Go My Way
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Knock knock.
In his bed, Sully ignored the knocking and rolled over, praying to God whoever had the audacity to wake him would go die instead.
The knock came again.
He swung a heavy arm over his eyes with a groan.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"You gotta be kidding me." He swore under his breath, yanked the blankets off him, and jogged down the stairs. He ripped open the door, scaring the poor human half to death. "What?"
"He's gone!" Sophie cried.
"Who's gone?"
"Cillian! He- he was next to me, sleeping, and when I woke up, he was gone!" She exclaimed, tears falling heavy and fast down her cheeks.
"Look, just... just relax. Maybe he took a walk to clear his head." He tried to deescalate the situation.
She frantically shook her head, her eyes wide and panicked. "No, something's not right. I-I know he's gone."
With a disgruntled sigh, still in his pajamas, Sully stepped outside and guided her to the pack house. His parents, along with a few others were quick to meet them there.
"We're heading out." Andrew stated, nodding to Sophie. "Why don't you sit with Angie?"
Angie shook her head, as did her daughter in law. "That's her husband. My son out there. We're going to look too."
"Hold on." Sully interrupted, pulling up security footage on a tablet. "This was not even thirty minutes ago."
On the screen, it showed Cillian leaving the house, in nothing but his flannel pajama pants and no shirt, taking off into the woods.
"Why would he do that?" Sophie exasperated.
"He probably went for a run to clear his head. The less clothes we wear when we shift, the better." Was Sully's reasoning.
She shook her head. "No, Cillian hates the cold. He's always bundled up no matter what."
"He can't be far. He might be too far now to see him on the cameras, but I'm sure if we hurry, we can find him." Andrew butt in, wanting to reassure his wife and Sophie. "Why don't you two stay here since we have a good idea where he's at."
YOU ARE READING
LYCANTHROPE
Werewolf"I want you." With a touch as light as a feather, Cillian hooked a thick finger under her chin to get a better look at her face. "Look at me." Slowly, her eyes cracked open, but she didn't dare meet his eyes. His grip tightened ever so slightly, a w...