Shadow Bite || WATTYS 2017

Chapter Sixteen

A/N: Hello, it's me. I've been wondering if after all these days you'd like to read. 

SLIGHT MATURE CONTENT. 

Enjoy <3

-Sophia, xoxo

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The only reason that I wake up the next morning is because of an icy chill that suddenly slides over my cheek like a cold hand. I shoot up in bed and look around, only to find the cause of my awakening to be the open window. "Are you kidding me," I mumble, throwing the covers off of me and hastily sliding out of bed. The frosty breeze has awakened my senses and numbed me from sleep, and I tuck my hazel hair behind my ear when it blows the strands around in feather-like whisps. Annoyance goes into every harsh, brutal movement as I practically slam the window shut and lock it. 

Imagine being woken up on a Saturday morning at 7:28 AM because of a stupid window. Not cool. 

I peer through the glass and notice that gleaming ball of light that's slowly beginning to rise in the sky, gently nuzzling away the dark clouds. The snow is still firm on the ground, but the sun has been out since yesterday when we were at the pack house, and - 

God. The pack house. It feels so weird to say.  

Brushing it off I turn my back to the peaceful landscape and head over to the wardrobe. I'm up anyway, so I might as well take advantage of the morning light. I shrug into my work-out clothes - which I hardly ever use by the way - and tie up my shoes. I quickly skip into the bathroom and pop in my contact lenses before heading downstairs. "Going somewhere?" Mum asks from the kitchen, where she is currently sipping on a cup of coffee in a stylish silky robe, a Vogue fashion magazine in hand. 

"Just going out for a run," I reply, shrugging on the thin windbreaker that I'm holding in my arms. 

"Really?" She arches an eyebrow from above the magazine and I scowl. 

"Really Mum?"

"It's just, you never really - do anything sport-related," she comments, watching me with shrewd eyes, analysing everything. Nothing passes by her. 

"Thanks for laying it out a bit nicer for me Mum, it doesn't hurt my ego as much," I mutter sarcastically and she flashes me a playful smile. 

"I love you!"

"Why does everyone only find the time to say that right after they've pissed me off?" 

"Language Camilla," she scolds. 

"Love you!" 

I close the door before she has a chance to reply and feel the soft snow dent under my shoes. The trail that I followed the first time that I was out here to sketch is gone, covered in a blanket of whiteness, and I have to improvise a running-route myself. As I start jogging, my mind wanders off to the vision with the deer and the wolf. 

You're the victim Camilla, Killian had said. A shiver runs over me and I hug my jumper tighter around me, blocking out those blood-stained images. It's true that I could have been the victim back in my home town, but here? 

I pass the familiar clearing and continue on, zigzagging through tightly planted trees, leaves and branches catching on my clothes and in my ponytail once in a while. I use my hands to shield myself most of the time, but if I thought the hike to the pack house was bad, I was so, so very wrong. I follow my instincts, peering through the leaves above at the sunlight, and the rays warm my face just enough, urging me to go on. Something inside of me gets stronger, like a little knot untying itself in my stomach and pulling me forwards by a thread, filling me with energy. I don't know where it comes from, but instead of questionning it further, I'm simply going to use it to my advantage. The scent of pinecones and the forest on a morning after the rain abruptly envelops my senses, for a moment clouding my vision as my steps slow in a daze. I quickly blink out of it, still noting that familiar scent in the back of my mind.