Unfaithful

Chapter 3: Involuntary Shift

Scott’s POV

Sensing someone hovering over me, my eyes shoot open landing on none other than Stiles. “Jesus Christ, are you trying to trigger an asthma attack?” I close my eyes trying to slow down my pulse as my place my hand over my heart. Suddenly, the words immature asshole crosses my mind as a grin appears on my face. Opening my eyes, I hear my friend break out into laughter. “Scott, you’re a freaking werewolf. You don’t have asthma anymore, remember?” A frown takes the place of my grin. “Well, that doesn’t seem to stop you from trying to induce one, now does it? Asshole.” Pretending to be hurt, he gasps in shock. “I’m hurt. I-I can’t believe that you think so little of me,” he says moving towards my computer chair. As he takes a seat, I glance over at my clock. Groaning, I return to gaze to him and ask, “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s six in the morning.” Rolling his eyes, concern seeps through his voice, “I just want to make sure you’re alright. I didn’t hear from you last night.” Immediately, guilt takes over me as I hear my friend’s voice, “I’m sorry, Stiles. I was just so tired from yesterday’s events.” A small smile forms on his face, “yeah, I know how you feel but don’t let him get to you. Just ignore him that’s what I do.” Sitting up on my bed, I glare at him in disbelief. Anger fills my voice, “Are you kidding me? He broke into your house, jacked you up, and threatened you with no real explanation. That’s bullshit. How can I let it go? You’re my best friend it’s my job to stand up for you against that psycho.” Inhaling a deep breath, I jump off the bed and start walking into the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes,” I say as I pass by him. “Okay?” He nods in agreement as his eyes follow my every move, clearly on edge from the sudden tension in the air.

Shaking my head, I walk into the bathroom while trying to clear my thoughts. I slowly begin to take off my boxers as my back muscles tense. Pressure builds within my gum line. That’s weird. Realization dawns on me as I feel my canines descending from my gums. Looking in the mirror, I notice my eyes turning an amber-yellowish color. “No, not here, not now,” I mutter as panic sets in. Quickly closing my eyes shut, I try to hide from my inner beast. Suddenly, it hits me. My knees buckle as I feebly attempt to grab the sink. Hitting the floor, I feel waves of intense pain clawing through my stomach. What the hell. Grabbing my stomach, I start breathing heavy while my abdomen violently tightens. As the violent waves of unbearable breath-taking pain continue, I gasp for air as my body refuses to accept the intake. “Oh God, please, help me,” I whisper as a single tear strays down my cheek. Panting heavily as I, tightly, clench my jaw, I slowly crawl over to the bathtub. Climbing into the bathtub, I turn on the faucet allowing hot water to cascade all around me as I lay on my side struggling to catch my breath. My body starts feeling faint because of the lack of oxygen. The pain increases to a dramatic level, involuntarily, my eyes roll into the back of my head as darkness takes over me. Damn.

Derek’s POV

Jolting from my bed, I look around my room in confusion. “What the hell,” I mutter as I try to get my bearings. Propping myself into a sitting position, I grab my cell phone to see what time it is. Groaning, I run my hand through my hair. Why am I awake at 6:30 in the freaking morning? Rubbing my hands over my face a sense of dread fills me. Something’s not right. Pulling the black silk sheets off my body, I go to stand up. As my feet touch the floor, my stomach starts churning as the feeling of dread intensifies. Suddenly, panic sets in. I freeze in my tracks allowing myself time to take in my surroundings. Sniffing the air to see if anything’s different, I find nothing. Now, I’m just being paranoid. Shaking my head, I walk into the bathroom. Ignoring my instincts, I step into the hot shower trying to relax my body. The feeling keeps intensifying. My breathing starts coming out in short gasps as my chest tightens. Breathing heavily, I mutter, “What the hell, I don’t get panic attacks.” Closing my eyes, I lean against the shower wall and concentrate on slowing down my breathing.