Gaze (✔)

Chapter Sixteen: Splinter Group

(Dedication to a commenter!)

I'm on a little bit of a writing frenzy! 

I loved your comments on the last chapter, there were some very different, interesting opinions. Keep it coming (please? :D)

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Clara watched with horror, glued to the spot, as the knife rapidly moved towards her father’s throat, distantly aware that she was screaming something as it happened.

It was almost too fast to see her father’s next moves, but after a few seconds he was free of the werewolves’ grasp and the knife had clattered to the floor. She heard the quiet crunch as he sent one of the men falling to the ground with a bloody nose. As the second reached for him and a few bystanders yelled orders, he backed up rapidly to the window at his back. His movements were all a blur to Clara, who had tears clouding her vision, but she could clearly ascertain that the window had smashed into a million tiny shards, flying out with her father as he tumbled out of the open frame.

Her breath caught in her throat, she ran forward after him, leaning against the wall beside the smashed glass. They seemed to be on the first floor of a building, but the fall didn’t seem to hurt him at all. She only caught a glimpse of his back as he fled down the empty street, leaving a trail of broken glass as it flew off of the clothes it had snagged on.

Anger boiling in her veins, Clara turned back to face Wyatt, striding over to him with a glare. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted, shoving him as hard as she could. To her quiet satisfaction, he took a step back to steady himself, but made no move against her.

“You were going to have them kill my dad!” She could have sworn she saw his expression start to soften, but he quickly hardened his features as she walked past him towards the door to the armoury, hoping that it led to an exit. She ignored the tears that had already welled in her eyes, absolute at not crying over him.

Once she reached the next room, she heard his footsteps come after her in the silence until he was behind her, shutting the door. She stopped at turned to face him.

“Are you leaving again?” he asked in a small voice. Studying him carefully, she noticed that he looked calmer…more sincere.

Still, it did little to quench her anger. “Yes. I have to get to Luke before it’s too late.”

He shook his head, looking determined. “And get yourself killed? No way.”

“Don’t pretend that you care.” She spat.

He stepped forward, looking slightly hurt, and took her wrists more gently than before. “Of course I care,” he said quietly. “How could I not?”

She pulled her hands back, although retained their proximity. “That’s not what the knife at my father’s throat said.” He stepped back with an aggravated exhalation, running a hand through his hair and glancing to the ceiling for help.

“He and his men killed five of mine, Clara! How could I let him live and kill more?” he said, beginning to pace the large room.

“So did I.” She replied. In truth, it had been her brother that saved her and shot down the wolves that had attacked her that night – something she still had to repay.

“That was different and you know it – they went rogue the moment they decided to try and hurt you.” He explained. “You and your brother acted in self-defence.”

“And how do you know I didn’t want to kill them? It takes longer than a month to shake the beliefs you’ve had for a lifetime.” She challenged, aware that she was now only speaking to provoke him. She was furious, and wanted to hurt him.