Amber Silverblood: Silverpack

Chapter Two

If I fall asleep right now, I'll get five hours and twenty three minutes of sleep before I have to go to get up for school.

I pulled the covers up to my chin and fluffed my pillow a little, but my brain was still too wired to let me relax. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to coax myself into falling asleep, but my eyes kept being drawn to the digital clock on my dresser. Half past midnight.

At first, Stark's decision to send Kimberly and me back to school had been a welcome one. As much as I liked being in the Silverpack, especially compared to my last pack, that didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life cooped up in his cabin. Admittedly, he didn't force us to stay here, and he gave us free range of the woods his property contained. Still, without school or any kind of job, cabin fever had begun to sink its teeth in. As weird as it sounded, I was actually looking forward to going back to school. The mind numbing routine would provide a sense of normalcy in my life, even if it was just an illusion.

I tossed and turned for another hour before finally getting out of bed.

"This is your fault," I grumbled to myself as I put on my slippers and headed downstairs. I wasn't sure if my wolf side was able to hear me, but even if it could I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have cared. It was above petty human insults.

We have a weird relationship, me and my wolf. Technically we're the same person, but our personalities are so wildly different that we may as well be two people living in the same body. When I shifted, I became the wolf, both in mind and body. It was still me, but the way I thought and acted changed. I was more impulsive and confident, two of the traits that would help a real wolf survive in the wild. I also had a much shorter temper. Judging by the new nickname it had given me, I didn't think it liked me all that much either.

As I rifled through Stark's fridge looking for a midnight snack, I tapped into my wolfish side to figure out what would calm it down.

Ham sandwich. And grilled chicken. And hamburger. And...

I grabbed a leftover hamburger patty and shut the door. My stomach growled, but my wolf would have happily cleaned out the whole fridge if I'd let it. I ate the hamburger cold while heading back upstairs to my room, licking the barbecue sauce off my fingers. I stepped as softly as a predator, trying to keep from waking anybody up, but I froze when I heard my mom's voice coming out of her bedroom.

"Amber..."

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a groan. Mom never liked it when I got midnight snacks. She said they would make me fat, even though I was growing more and more convinced that werewolves weren't capable of getting fat.

"Just a little hungry, Mom," I whispered. "I already finished it."

"No, you... don't go with them."

"I'm going back to..." Wait, what?

I peeked into my mom's bedroom and saw her lying in bed. She was muttering to herself.

"Don't touch me... where's my daughter?"

Her hand suddenly shot up, like she was trying to hit something, and she moaned.

"Aw, crap," I said, and ran to her bedside. "Mom, wake up. Wake—"

I put my hand on her shoulder, and she lashed out again, this time slapping me right on the cheek. I flinched, and her eyes shot open.

"Wha- what?" she asked, groggily, and sat up.

I rubbed my cheek. "You were having another nightmare, Mom."

"Oh, I... I'm fine," she said, even though the way her hands were trembling told me she was lying. "I didn't hit you, did I?"

"It's fine, you didn't hurt me." It wasn't even a lie. Her slap had barely stung to begin with, and I couldn't even feel it anymore. One of the benefits of being a werewolf.