Tethered // Teen Wolf // Isaac Lahey

FOURTEEN

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KOREY

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I clutched the knife tight enough for the blade to slice through the flesh of my palm. The skin begged to heal, but I kept the metal in place, my blood dripping onto the pavement underneath me, creating a small puddle that echoed in my ears.

The apartment block in front of me was high-end, a tall white building with a doorman that greeted people as they walked past him. He would have, at least, if it wasn't the middle of the night with not a soul outside. The apartment I needed was on the fourth floor, the second door with a stupid bronze knocker with the number 402 printed above it.

I stared up through a dark window, the white curtains blowing out in the soft night's breeze. Such a stupid idea to leave the window open... except no one was home, so it didn't matter.

My phone buzzed for the seventh time that night, and although I wanted to ignore it, I answered it the same way I had done the first six times. If I had been quicker to answer Archie, maybe he wouldn't have died; no missed calls and no waiting, not ever again.

"Where are you?" Blake's growl crossed the phone line, vibrating down my spine, "Korey, whatever you're doing, Archie wouldn't have wanted it. He was a peaceful man. He wouldn't want you to risk your life for a meaningless reveng—"

"It's not meaningless to me." I hung up. I would answer to make sure she was okay every time, but I wouldn't listen to her. I tucked the phone back into my pocket, jerking my legs forward and starting out into the road, crossing to the entrance of the building.

The door to the apartment block had a code to enter it, one that I didn't know, nor did I have the patience to find out.

I stretched my fingers out, my claws growing and curving, before I dug them into the keypad, the electricity sparking and flaring before going limp.

The door beeped, the little light above it going green.

Something twisted inside me as if it was alive, clawing at my guts, reaching past my spine and grabbing at my heart, squeezing it between razor-sharp talons. Something scorching and white, fuelling a bloodthirst inside me I didn't even know I had.

I wrenched the door open, the glass shattering as the metal doorframe struck the bricks of the building. I didn't hear it. I focused on the elevator that sat at the end of the corridor, and I made for it. I'd gone up the elevator to Derek's loft because I feared Mason's disapproval more than heights, though that feeling didn't extend here... something else did. Fear was weaker than anger; nothing could chip at anger. So, I stepped into the elevator.

I pressed the button for the fourth floor and took a step back, the dagger turning between my fingers in almost soothing rhythm. It was the only thing I had to remember Archie by; Mason had taken the rest and hidden it away in his office so it wouldn't 'distract' us. 

He hadn't even let us see the body. He just buried it somewhere.

I couldn't believe I hadn't fought him on it but until two hours ago, I'd been stuck in a endless trance, washing phantom blood off my hands until I could see my bones peaking through my skin. I couldn't believe I hadn't taken a hunting family seriously because I'd seen them hanging around a bunch of werewolves.

An Argent, Allison, had tried to kill me once already. Paisley had found out somehow that the arrowhead belonged to her. It seemed as though Allison had tried again, growing bold under Scott's protection.

Blake had tried to talk me out of it. She'd said there was no way of knowing if it was Allison or some other Argent, but I didn't care. Like a pack hurts when a beta dies, a family weeps when a child dies.