The Outcast

Chapter 22. Change

I chose the perfect day to kill Lily without realizing it. I was awakened by the first snowflake's thundering landing in my ear. I rose out bed and onto my feet quickly, not wasting a second and walking to my window. The first ray of sunlight was peeking just above the horizon and somehow, I spotted the white speck in the grass that slept for the winter.

I waited for weeks to ease Lily's mind. I made strategy plans to kill her and explained them to everyone. Everyone except Tray, that is, because we had no idea what Lily was capable of, and we decided Tray was the most vulnerable and we couldn't risk him ruining our plan.

I missed telling him things and I missed hearing him interrupt my thoughts and strategies with his begging for me to come to bed. Keeping things from him was unnatural even if it's reasonable and he would understand. I want to go home and tell him how stressed I was and how I was so tired of all this darkness around me. I want him to hug me and pull me to his chest and tell me everything was going to be ok like he always did. He always made me feel better even when the darkness engulfed my life, when I was with him, the darkness welcomed me and I couldn't see it.

While the weeks dragged on, I observed Lily's reaction to everything we said from the moment she opened her door, to the moment she closed it after we left. I also watched as she held the love of my life, my mate, and how he held her back. I watched how Tray struggled to look at me, but no matter how he tried, her spell was stronger.

I spent so many lonely, cold nights wanting to be held by him. I watched my orange eyes dull day by day without him. The only time I felt any relief of my pain was when Logan's arms held me tight as I cried.

After today, Cheyenne was leaving for the human territory with Alice. I convinced her that this world wasn't safe for Alice and they both deserved a normal life away from the darkness I brought to anyone around me.

With every snowflake, came a new transformation. Rather it was a skin cell changing a shade lighter, a strand of my hair changing from white to silver, or my eyes changing to white, then to a beautiful blue. I always loved the color of my eyes during this time of year. It was the color of a fresh, frozen pond before the first child makes its blemish.

Today Lily would be at peace thinking that I am too busy to kill her. I had spent all week making up traditions that I had to do and how stressful it was every year.

When the snow stopped, I knew my transformation was complete. The people had set up a small, dark brown stage, with lights that looked yellow compared to the snow around it. Even so, it was beautiful, but my favorite part was the snowflakes made from paper hanging above me. The children had spent a whole day making them.

As I reached for one, I remembered the children in my pack doing the same every year, but my father always forbid us to participate. He didn't believe in Christmas and thought it was another winter's day. We never decorated a tree or made paper snowflakes, but I made sure the children of my pack got to experience what I didn't.

"That one's mine!!" I turned to see who the squeaky voice belonged to and found a small boy with black hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a little beanie hat, thick gloves, and a coat that engulfed his neck. He was no bigger than my right leg and he sat on his mother's arm so he could see. The mother looked absolutely terrified when she realized I heard him and began to scold him. I smiled and leaned forward, "What's your name, child?" I asked and he shied. "Joseph." His tiny voice filled my ears. 

"It's beautiful," I paused. "It's my favorite." I whispered and his face brightened more than the lights behind me. It was true, I thought his had the most elegance and I was impressed. The little boy hugged me and I squeezed back. The mother looked relieved and I smiled at her too, which she gave me a small, scared smile.