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  A pang of guilt ponds from within me, nonstop, like a jackhammer killing cement

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  A pang of guilt ponds from within me, nonstop, like a jackhammer killing cement. I rush towards the mansion, not wanting to be out in the forest any longer. I can see the exterior of the mansion - or as my Mother called it, The Pack House. It seems so close, but with every step I take, it seems to get farther and farther away.

  With every step I take, my boots make a crunching sound in the frosted over snow. With every passing second, the temperature seems to drop, the blood running within me freezing, no longer boiling like a pot of water as it was earlier, back in the forest. 

  Finally, I see it, the clearing. The back yard of the mansion is crowded with Canids, the grounds swarming with them, and I spot Dane amongst them, standing and talking to two other very well built men. His eyes flicker towards me, meaning he caught me staring his way, and I instantly Avery my gaze from him to the door that comes closer to me.

  I long to be back inside the mansion, coated with warmth, layered with soft blankets and nothing else beside fuzzy pjs. From the corner of my eye, I catch Dane break away from the group, and it's at that moment that I quicken my pace. I fund myself surprised that I don't want to talk to anyone besides the one who can give me answers.

  It used to be that I would try anything to escape his sight, now...I want it. ANd I scold myself deeply for it. Finally, I'm at the door, pushing it open with a little too much force and stumbling inside, closing the door shut beside me, the cold and bitter air now no longer lingers around me.

  I stomp my feet, bits of sticky snow particles slipping off my leather boots and melting within the floor, the floor drinking it up like liquor. I quietly make my way down the hall, away from the door that seems to be cursed with ultimate frigidness.

  I turn the corner to the small stair case leading to my room. Ascending the steps, a group of loud teenagers passes by, I watch quietly at how relaxed they seem, they all seem to be around the same age, thirteen maybe fourteen. They luckily don't spot me, their eyes staying focused on one another. Not to my dismay, their eyes are all the same color, the same beautiful sapphire blue. Now I know why this pack is called Sapphire, and it makes total sense to me now.

  The teens pass by, the noises disappearing along with them. I continue trotting up the stairs, finally making it to the second floor. I slowly stride toward my door, opening it casually and slipping inside.

  "Where'd you go?" I nearly jump out of my skin when his voice bellows through the large room. He never left.

  I turn on my heel and find him on the bed, his hands tucked behind his head as he rests against the backboard. Now in his full human form, I scrutinize his attire, bare feet, black sweatpants and a tight fitted short sleeve shirt. 

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