Wolf's Needs

Chapter Twenty-One

Meka lifted her head, groaning as she rubbed her temple. Immediately, footsteps surrounded around her and she was on her feet and in fighting stance before she knew it. Only instead of about to fight Hunters, Jalyn, Mary, Mikey, and a man greeted her. She released a breath, thankful that she didn't have to wake up in a war.

She collapsed back onto whatever she had been laying on, the guest bed. Jalyn went to go sit with her, rubbing her arms slowly, soothingly, as he asked her if she was alright.

"Yes, of course." Meka answered, but she felt everything but. Her head pounded, her body felt puffed up and gloated, and behind her eyes stung like someone had poured a bottle of hand sanitizer on them. Worriedly, Jalyn placed his hand on her forehead, his eyebrows creasing as he studied her.

"What did you say happened again?" He asked his mother as he continued to assess Meka. She smiled, lifting her hand to remove his from her head, but he shook her away, leaning over to the bedside table to grab something. It was a damp towel and a glass of water. "Drink this." He ordered her before dabbing the cool towel against her hot face. Meka had to admit, it made her feel a little better, but he didn't have to baby her.

"Jalyn–"

"Just let it happen sweetheart." The stranger, who had otherwise been quiet this whole time, spoke up. Meka's head snapped in his direction. Jalyn swore that he saw her hackles rise as her silver eyes narrowed in distrust. But she remained silent, not quite complying with his response but then again not really arguing either.

Meka studied the man. Where has she seen him before? His black eyes watched her back, his strong jaw clenching and unclenching. "Who are you?" Meka spoke slowly, her head tilted to the side with curiosity. She had a feeling that she was forgetting something, something important. She has seen him before, she knew that, but where has she seen him?

Just let it happen sweetheart...

I am very real...

She gasped, shooting up off the bed and in his face in an instant. She had shoved him up against the wall, ignoring the startled gasps from Mary and Jalyn. Mikey had grabbed her from behind, and she struggled not to attack him to. Anister... She shook Mikey off of her, but kept off of the man before her.

"Explain yourself." She growled, her stomach stuck in a spin-cycle. Meka feared what he would tell her, yet she felt as if she already knew.

The man didn't look very phased by her outburst. Instead, he had a solemn expression across his handsome face. He held himself up high, his nose slightly raised and his hands were behind his back. His black eyes were alluring, and as they pierced into Meka, she felt captured. She couldn't look away. But she still needed answers.

"Tameka," he started, his eyes drifting down to the floor as he tried to gather his words, "Kira, please just sit down and I will explain."

"What did you just call me?" Meka snarled, her head slightly lowered, Jalyn stood up off the bed, drifting closer to her. His mother shot him a warning look and he stopped, but he couldn't help but feel worried about Meka. The man didn't explain himself when they first met a few hours ago, after Jalyn had seen Meka's unconscious form in the arms of this stranger. Why was it that every time they meet, she was injured?

"Please, just sit down." Please, just sit and I will explain.

The voice in her head had caught Meka off guard. She stumbled back, away from the stranger, away from Mikey and Mary, and away from Jalyn. She couldn't do this. "That was you?" Her voice was quiet. Her head was spinning so fast that she couldn't quite come to grips what was happening. The backs of her legs hit the bed and she jumped, startling herself. What was happening to her? She couldn't focus, this man was doing this to her. What was he?

What are you? She asked absentmindedly.

I'm sure you already know.

Her eyes were wild as she continued to stare at him. Did she already know? His eyes, she has never seen anything like those before. Pitch black as if they never ended, they just went far into the unknown abyss of his mind. His nicely angled jaw had a five o'clock shadow across of it, but other than that he had clear, tanned skin. The stranger wasn't large and obnoxiously toned like most of the wolves in her pack, but he was still very muscular. He stood at about 5' 11", taller than Meka yet shorter than Mikey and Jalyn.

But those eyes...

Where does someone get eyes like that?

Something popped up in Meka's mind. He charged forward, his right arm sweeping back and heating up. He was concentrating everything he had into that hand, and the bright blue glow of the power was illuminated onto his sickly pale face. He grunted as his right arm surged forward, his palm flat and powerful like a hammer driving into the Harrison's chest.

And suddenly, everything was so clear. Anister, a Warlock. He was the man from the dream, or vision, or whatever the hell happened to Meka in the woods. That was him, and she was...

"No," Meka shook her head and lowered her face to her hands, before running her fingers through her hair. This wasn't happening right now. Not when she still needed to find her parents, dead or alive. Not when she was so close to falling apart, when she was both in danger and endangering the lives of innocent people. Not when, despite the fact that she wanted nothing to do with this, she knew that it was true. Anister, the Warlock, was her father.

And Meka wasn't really Meka at all.

She was Kira.

"No!" She screamed, hot tears forming a line down her cheeks. Nononononooooo! Please, please go away. If he left then everything could go back to the way things were before. If this man, Anister, her real father, the Warlock, just left then she could pretend that she never met him. That she never dreamed of him. Everyone in the room watched her, a mix of pity and confusion and fear defining their faces. She wanted it to stop. She wanted her parents, she needed her mother. She could picture her father's face, all hard lines and strong features. And then she went back to the dream, to the Harrison who didn't want the baby girl. He always wanted boys.

He's not my father. This man is, and he's not even a werewolf.

The room felt like it was tilting, spinning, and the floor had dropped from beneath her feet. She grew hot, she was unstable. She had to get out of there, leave before someone got hurt. Leave before she got hurt.

She pushed past the others and was out the door before anyone could blink.