Gaze (✔)

Chapter Twelve: Complacence

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Chapter Twelve: Complacency

“Clara, this is Joanna.” Dylan introduced, gesturing to the girl with what sounded like pride. Clara examined her as conspicuously as she could. Joanna was a tall, dark haired beauty with a guarded look in her sharp eyes, although she masked it with a small smile.

“You’re the one I’m babysitting?” she asked, rolling her eyes and returning her inquisitive gaze to me.

“Protecting.” Wyatt cut in, watching the interaction from the doorway. Even though she already knew this, Clara scowled at him.

“I can protect myself just fine.” She protested. Joanna scoffed, eyeing the bandages still tightly wound around her leg.

“Can you even walk?” she said, raising an eyebrow. As Dylan watched with an amused smile, Clara strode forward, holding back a wince at the slowly receding pain. She glared at the other girl, disliking her after only a few moments.

“I can do a hell of a lot more than that.” She threatened, stopping just before Joanna, who was – to her ire – a lot taller than herself. Rather unexpectedly, the brunette broke out into a grin, letting a loud chuckle escape from her unpainted lips.

“I think I’m going to like you, Claire.” She announced, turning her beam to Dylan.

“It’s Clara.”

Joanna waved her hand dismissively, her attention now on Wyatt’s friend. “You two had better get going if you want to get there and back today.” With a sigh, he nodded, turning to raise his eyebrows at his Alpha.

“You ready?”

After a nod in response, the two headed – finally – for the door, after delaying their departure waiting for Joanna to show up. Clara didn’t know much about the girl, who looked a little older than herself, but she was supposedly a “good friend” of Dylan’s, although Wyatt’s disbelieving snort convinced her otherwise.

At the door, he turned to her, guilt in his eyes. “I’ll be back tonight,” he promised. “Earlier, if I can.”

She waved her hand at him to go, rolling her eyes. “Just go, I’ll be fine.” She insisted, smiling lightly at him. After a short hesitation, he pulled the door closed behind him.

After a few moments of silence: “So,” Joanna said loudly, although it was distorted in her yawn. “What is there to do here?” Feeling a little less hostile, Clara shrugged.

“Not much.” She admitted, leaning back against the wall for support. Although she could walk well enough, the bite marks still stung.

“Great.” Joanna groaned, assuming a similar position. “Leave it to Dylan to ruin my Saturday.”

“As if you’d have something to do anyway, in a town like this.” Clara scoffed, gesturing randomly at the door.

She looked back to her new acquaintance, who was picking up her worn leather bag from the floor, slinging it hastily over her shoulder with a grin. “I’m sure we can find something.”

It didn’t take much convincing for Clara to pull on her shoes and a random jacket – probably Wyatt’s, judging from the size – and head outside with Joanna, eager to escape the confines of the house. She avoided looking at the forest that surrounded the clearing, already imagining dark eyes staring at her from its depths. She’d had more than enough trouble in the woods for one week.

Joanna continued to eye her bandages with an unreadable expression as she walked slowly to her car, an old sports car in perfect condition. By the way the older girl slid her hands along its roof lovingly, Clara didn’t think she’d let it get a single scratch.