Hunted [ Completed ]

24

"Have you found it yet," Brad asked for the fourth time as he shifted gears down the highway, glancing over at the book that lay in my lap.

"No," I barely held back from snapping at him, pulling my hair into a bun as I scanned the book for a third time. In the backseat, a guard who's name I had found out to be Chase, bit back a small cry of pain. He had been bitten badly on the shoulder, the mangled skin trying to repair itself and I tried not to breathe through my nose.

"Oh don't be a girl," Brad turned to look at him, taking his eyes off the road as I grabbed the wheel to keep from swerving into the other lane. "And for Goodness sake! Don't you dare bleed onto the seats or else you're going to clean it up!" I slapped his arm lightly, he had no empathy! A car hooted in the other lane as we swerved a bit, Brad grabbing onto the wheel and hooting back, picking up the speed to try get home.

I let out an uneasy chuckle, I hated driving with Brad as he had the attention span of a goldfish. The pages flicked past again until I stopped and rested my head against the cool window, my head pounding and nausea pricking at my stomach lining form trying to read in moving car.

"Oh not you too," Brad tried too tease, "If you throw up on my seats then you'll clean the car with Chase too!" I rolled my eyes, closing the book.

"Just get home already, it feels like were taking forever." I watched a green sign fly past, letting out a relieved sigh. "Finally," I grumbled as we pulled into the driveway, leaping from the car and hunching over, breathing in deeply to try and keep the contents of my stomach inside my body. Immediately the pack doctor ran to our car, a pang shooting through my stomach as I thought of Mila. He tried to get me to go with his to the medical centre but I waved him off, pointing him to Chase instead who wobbled out the car.

Brad picked up the book from the ground, biting his lip nervously as he saw me hunched over. "That bad huh?" I struggled not to punch him and I grabbed the book from him and stomped towards the house.

Well at least I tried to stomp but instead I almost fell over, Brad rushing to my side and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling my arm over his shoulder. "I think you need to lie down," I nodded and let him guide me into the house, placing me gently down onto the couch. I immediately opened the book, determined to find out what was happening to the packs and all the wolves.

Brad opened his mouth, probably to tell me to pt the book down, but I glared at him so he shut his mouth, sitting down at my feet. Silence filled the room other than the occasional flip of a page as I frantically searched. Brad stiffened, handing me his phone wordlessly. On the screen was another mutilated wolf, exactly the same as the one before. I said nothing as I handed it back to him, my paging becoming more rushed. Each minute we wasted another wolf could be dying somewhere.

"This isn't the right book," I mumbled, closing the thick book for the twelfth time and placing it down onto the coffee table, an arm thrown across my eyes. It was dark outside, the pack settling down for the night in their rooms above.

"How are you feeling?" Brad rubbed my feet in his large hands, watching me nervously. My head still pounded stronger than before but the nausea was gone.

"At least I don't have the strong urge to throw up anymore, unless I look at your face that is but that's normal," I blew a kiss to his offended looking face, and attempted to laugh lightly but stopped, holding my head in my hands as pain flared up behind my eyes.

"You're going to see the pack doctor," Brad grumbled, pulling me into his arms off the couch. "No more complaining, it's obvious you're not feeling good." I tried to mumbled a reply, but settled for burying my head into his chest, breathing in his comforting smell to stop rom crying out. There was something seriously wrong with me, werewolves don't get headaches. Ever. Our system was too strong for it.