Crisp air entered Jamie's lung, tickling his nose and throat with their chilliness. Soft leaves and fallen branches snapped under his feet, echoing between the trees. These noises, along with his quick breath and long strides, weren't the only sounds to hear in the forrest. If one paid close attention, there was an almost silent mumbling, a groan of sorts, that seemed to follow the tall teen closely.
Words, discreet whispers spoken between gritted teeth. They were said continuously, the long string of sounds never breaking, with only the rhythmic pace of the teen's steps to mark the tempo of the odd litany.
"Follow your senses, he said. Your anchor will guide you, he said. What a load of crap."
Short strands of dark blond hair danced on Jamie's head as he grumbled, his reddened cheeks darkening and his frown deepening upon the sight of a road sign that was growing increasingly familiar. So familiar it was becoming annoying, an undeniable piece of evidence that he was utterly and helplessly lost.
He knew the very distinct way the once white paint had dripped from the "v" in the word "Preserve," almost turning the letter into a "y" and depriving the sign of all meaning, for he had the opportunity to follow that sign no less than five times that very morning - he had counted.
Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, Jamie let out a loud sigh, that only grew louder when two words appeared near the top of the bright screen. No signal, they said.
Of course he had no signal, he was in the middle of the woods. Deers and coyotes and racoons and whatever roamed the woods didn't need phone service, so why would anyone ever have bothered making sure the area had any? It wasn't as if the occasional hunter ever used a phone either, no, of course not, that would be too easy.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jamie forced himself to calm down. His thoughts were going rampant and if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that getting mad at something that wasn't even there wasn't going to help him find his way back.
Using the part of his mind that was still capable of rational thinking, Jamie started walking in a straight line, leaving the cursed sign with the imperfect writing right behind him. If he walked straight ahead, there was no way he would see the sign again. Taking a deep breath, he tried to listen to his instincts, to that animalistic part of himself that was just beneath the surface, hidden right under his skin along with his claws and glowing eyes.
The pressure around his chest tightened and hope grew, yet he couldn't figure out where the feeling was pulling him, exactly. Was it to his left? He turned but the feeling shifted, escaping his grasp. Was it to his right, then? Jamie turned again, his brows furrowing. The feeling shifted again, elusive. It wasn't working. Whatever compass his instincts were following, it was completely off.
It was as if he was trying to track waves, ever moving and ever changing, and one second they were rising high only to disappear the next, disorienting him until he no longer knew which way was home, leaving him nothing to stare at but his own feet. And that damned road sign.
"Lost already?"
The voice made Jamie turn sharply on his heels, his neck turning to see the intruder. The tone was familiar, in a highly unpleasant way - it brought bitter memories back. And sure enough, Jamie's eyes easily spotted the tall shadow between two pine trees, casually leaning against one of them. The man wore a tight v-neck and a confident smirk.
"You again?" Jamie spat, not bothering to mask the distrust in his voice. He didn't need to say more for all the things he'd rather have left untold to invade his mind. Shaking his head, he brushed the feeling aside. "Don't tell me you have nothing better to do than following teens in the woods."
The remark didn't seem to bother Peter, whose smirk only grew in answer. Pushing himself away from the tree with one hand, he stood taller and took a single step towards the younger male.
"I won't, then. And since you obviously don't need my advice, I won't help you find the girl either. Ah, what was her name again?" he pondered, stroking his chin as if in deep thought, although his narrowed eyes remained solely on Jamie. "Lydia, was it?"
"Don't."
The warning was a growl more than a whisper, something low and dangerous that Jamie could barely believe had just left his throat. A flicker of surprise briefly broke Peter's composure, but he was quick to recover. The silence between them was heavy, and Peter could feel his son's eyes assessing him, analysing, calculating.
After all, Peter was a skilled liar. Few were those able to decipher what went on behind his cold gaze, and fewer even were those who had survived finding out. He radiated confidence, a kind of quiet determination, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like everyone else's actions were just moves in a chess game and he was four turns ahead of everyone.
The silence lingered, until Peter rolled his eyes and put both hands up. Surrender, fake as everything Jamie had ever witness the man do.
"You're trying to make sense of something inhuman using your human mind, it won't work. Don't be so rational. Don't be afraid to lose yourself to your wolf side," Peter said, his tone emotionless. "Do that, and you'll find her. Let's only hope you find her before they do."
And with that, he was gone. Turning on his heels and disappearing without a sound, leaving Jamie alone with his thoughts. The advice was cryptic, and Jamie had witnessed first hand Peter's formidable ability to give in to his inhuman side, as he called it, to his most primal instincts. The teen was positive he didn't want to follow these bloodstained footsteps.
But then what choice did he have? Brushing aside the uneasy feeling that came with listening to a murderer's advice, Jamie closed his eyes. A huff of annoyance shook his shoulders. He willed his mind to quiet down, and then he stopped. He was thinking too much.
He didn't notice the change, like it happened instantly. One second he was standing still, the next he was running, dodging obstacles at ridiculous speed. Something had clicked, a door had opened - he didn't care what metaphor was best to describe the feeling, as long as he could find Lydia.
His feet were moving on their own, the weight around his chest tightening. He was getting closer, he could feel it. The pulling sensation was indicating a direction, it was a compass, but it wasn't meant for human senses to follow - it was too fleeting, too subtle for a human mind to grasp.
When the scent tickled his nose, he knew he was close. He hadn't sensed it since his transformation, and it hit him full force, sweet and airy, sophisticated and warm. Just like the girl it belonged to. The scent hit him and all of a sudden, there was a warm hue in his vision. An orange glow, that brightened everything it touched.
He saw a blur of red in the brown of the trees and the hint of a smile stretched his lips. An annoyed voice in his head said words he had heard so many times. "It's not red, it's strawberry blond."
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I'll try to update more often in the future (and to write longer chapters, this one is a tad short). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this bit and happy holidays! :)
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Father || Teen Wolf
Fanfiction[Sequel to Brother] There is a curse on the Hale family, one that brings every single of its members to witness everything they adore turn to ashes and dust. Whether by their own hand or someone else's, the result is the same - they're always on the...
