Masked SheWolf

by Yara Gharios

  I don't know how long I stay there, but it's dark by the time I find myself on my feet and running again. I'm not sure where I'm going, but when I see the compound, I stop dead in my tracks and come to the realization that not only am I still following the pull to him, I also have tears staining my cheeks and leaving hot tracks behind them.

  Despite my intense yearning to go to him, I turn my back on the house and run home, all the while rhythmically chanting in my head, 'No, no, no, no, no.' When I see my house from a distance, a figure is walking away from it and in my direction.

  I freeze. No, I beg again. Not him.

  But the size is not right; he's too short. Squinting through the tears, I make out a female figure coming toward me, and I involuntarily sigh in relief.

  "Dylan?" Sadie cries when she sees me. "Dylan!"

  She runs at me and throws her arms around my shoulders. Moisture touches the skin at the base of my neck, and I'm pretty sure that's not mine.

  "Oh, my God, Dylan, where have you been?" she sobs. "It's been hours! Your family has been worried sick! I was so afraid something happened to you. Where the hell did you go, and how could you not tell anybody?"

  When the reality of the situation crashes onto me -my parents, college, Logan- I finally lose it. The first sob that escapes my lips is broken and foreign; first time I've cried like that in about a dozen years. The others follow louder and more desperate.

  "Wha-? Dylan, are you crying?!" Sadie asks through her own whimpers.

  She tries to pull away, but I latch my arms around her waist and bury my head in her shoulder and hair, in the hopes that it will silence my sobs and stop my tears.

  It doesn't; I can't stop. I can't even comprehend why this is happening. But I do know that I need comfort from somebody right now. Anybody.

  Sadie seems to get that, so she holds me close without saying a word, even after she stops crying and I keep on going in the same way. She even starts to stroke the back of my head in a soothing manner.

  Slowly, I am able to come back to the present because I focus on that gesture of hers, and then I stop crying. But it doesn't take the emptiness away; an emptiness I realize comes from not having gone to him when I had the chance.

  Sadie doesn't pull away immediately, but when she does, she stares at me expectantly, worry coloring her every feature.

  "Well?" she asks softly. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

  Numbly, I shake my head. "I can't," I barely manage to breathe out.

  She frowns. "Dylan," she starts saying.

  I interrupt her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." Then I start shuffling toward my house, picturing my bed, and wanting to lay there not thinking of anything.

  Sadie catches my wrist. "No, wait, Dylan, you should talk about it, whatever it is," she tells me.

  I look at her desperately. "I can't," I repeat in a broken sob that I force down. "Please."

  Her eyes glimmer when she hears the tone of my voice, but thankfully, she lets me go, albeit reluctantly. I don't even feel my feet as they transport me back to my house.

  The sight that greets me when I enter the front door would have surprised me if I wasn't so empty inside. My entire family sits around the living room, some of them have tears streaming down their face and others are trying to hold it in. They all spring up when I come in and start asking me questions.

  Where have I been? Why didn't I answer my phone? What was I thinking?

  Basically everything Sadie just asked, but in a much more colorful language and repeated six times.

  "I'm going to my room," I numbly tell them as I walk up the stairs. "I need to be alone."

  If my rigidity is not enough to make them back off, my tone of voice definitely convinces them to leave me be. It's completely devoid of life.

  My bed is almost a reassurance when I climb into it, and I break down once again. This is the first time I cry myself to sleep since I was a child, and I don't even understand why I'm crying.

  Chapter 28

  Daniel

  I want to be angry at my parents, but I don't know how that could help Mickey. After they lectured her when Dad received the call from Berklee, she needs us to stand by her, but I'm not sure how ganging up on our parents is going to do anything but get all five of us grounded.

  Truth be told, I'm afraid to stand up to them, especially considering the secret I'm keeping from all of them. I know, I'm the worst brother in the world. I really want to fix this, but I was going to tell them I slipped up when Dad got the call. When I worked up the nerve again, Mickey almost had her first attack. Then it was completely out of the question once Connor announced he'd asked Andrea to be his mate. There were only so many shocking revelations they could handle at once.

  About a week later, when we all walk down to help prepare dinner, we find Mom and Dad sitting on the sofa together with stern faces. The five of us immediately realize what's about to happen. We make an excuse to leave the house so they could have the privacy they were silently asking for.

  "What do we do now?" Nathan asks once we're all in the car. For once, we didn't fight over the passenger seat, and Mason and I conceded to let him have it.

  "We could always do what we said we'd do and go for a run with Jared and the others," Mason suggests.

  "I think I'm going to call Andrea," Connor says. "You guys do whatever you want."

  "Come on man," Nathan complains. "She hasn't been your mate for more than a week. You can't show her your needy side until it's been at least a year."

  I snicker. "Of course, everyone should get relationship advice from you, Nate. You're the best at those."

  Nathan plays along and winks at me, and then brightens at a certain thought. "I should open my own hotline! Hottie hotline."

  "How is that related to dating?" Mason questions.

  Nate wags his eyebrows. "Who said anything about dating?"

  Mase rolls his eyes, suppressing a smile. "Go see your mate Connor. We can go for a run with the pack."

  "Actually," I start to object.

  This is an opportunity for me to see Zoey. We haven't gone out all week. However, I have to be careful how I phrase it in front of my brothers.

  "I don't feel like running tonight," I settle with. "I think I'm going to hang around the pack house until you guys return."

  Mason frowns at me. "Are you feeling alright?"

  "Yeah since when do you pass up an opportunity to embarrass Nate in wolf form?" Connor seconds.

  "Hey!" Nathan objects.

  I grin. "You just wait to see what I have in mind for you on the next War Day," I threaten. "Anyway, I don't know, I just want to have a quiet night. But I don't want to spoil your fun, so you guys go ahead."

  Thankfully, they buy it. A few minutes later, Connor drops us off in front of the pack house and races off to his corazón. Seriously, that's how she's calling him now. Mason is amour and Connor is corazón. I am so glad Zoey is not into nicknames. God knows what she would have called me if she was.

  After Mason and Nathan leave with Jared and Sam to meet with the other guys, I sneak back to the Creeds' house and stand under Zoey's bedroom. Cade and Sadie are probably at the pack house. Her parents are downstairs watching TV with her brother. I think it's safe to discreetly get her attention.

  I pick a few pebbles off the ground and throw them gently at her window. A few seconds later, she appears.

  "Daniel?" she whispers sharply, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

  I shrug with a smile on my face. "I missed you."

  I will explain it to her when I'm up there with her. She's only on the second floor, so it shouldn't be hard to get up there.

  "Move back," I tell her.

  She doesn't realize what I'm about to do and doesn't move. "What? Why do you-?"

  I cut her off when I spring up straight to her window. She jumps back a little bit when I land right in front of her face. I can't keep the smile off my face.

  "Hi," I say lightly, and then I kiss her.


  She responds immediately and grabs onto my shirt, the way she always does. I wrap my arm around her waist and gently push her back so that I can get in and stand properly.

  Suddenly, she pulls away. "Hold on."

  She gets out of my grasp and twists so that she can close the window, and then lock her bedroom door. Then she puts her arms around my neck and kisses me more fiercely than she ever has before. Somehow, we end up on her bed, wrapped up in each other while still fully clothed.

  "You didn't answer my question," she mumbles around the kiss.

  "Aren't you happy to see me?"

  She smiles against my lips. "What do you think?"

  We make out for a while longer, but when my hand starts inching its way up her stomach without me telling it to do so, she completely pulls away.

  "Daniel," she says sternly, bringing me out of my haze.

  I sigh and remove both my hands. "Sorry, I got carried away."

  We've been dating for over a month now. We haven't talked about it yet, but we both know it's too soon for us to sleep together, and she's not ready for it yet. I am not going to pressure her, and it's not like I expected anything to happen so early when we started going out. Zoey is different from all the girls I've been with. She's worth the wait.

  "Tell me why you're here," she requests again.

  She straightens up and rests her back on her headboard as I tell her what happened. She holds my hand and entangles our fingers together. When I'm done, she tries to reassure me the only way she knows.

  "You didn't do anything wrong," she says.

  "I could have stood up for her," I counter.

  "She has to learn to do that for herself, Daniel, or else she'll still rely on you guys, just in a different way," she points out.

  I sigh and stare at our joined hands. "I know. I just..."

  "You don't like feeling useless," she finishes for me. "But you're not. You've done a lot of good for me." She pauses. "Without you... I wouldn't have found the courage to contact my brother."

  I sit up instantly, a bright smile on my face. "You called him? That's great, Zo!"

  "I didn't call him," she denies. "I got his number. He's at this college in Boston, some music institution called Berk-Berkee?"

  My eyes widen slightly. "Berklee?"

  She frowns. "Yeah. How did you know?"

  "That's where Mickey wants to go," I tell her. "What did you talk about?"

  Zoey nervously pulls her hair back behind her ears. "Uh, I didn't actually call him, I sent him a message... on Skype."

  "What did you say?" I rephrase my question.

  "I told him I'm the girl from the cemetery who ran away from him," she replies. "And... I explained why I ran."

  I grimace. "In a Skype chat room? Zo-"

  She sighs. "I know, I chickened out," she admits. "But he agreed to set up a video call tomorrow morning, before his classes. After that, who knows? Maybe we'll even meet in person."

  I relax again and smile. "That's great news, Zo!"

  She bites her lip. "Can you be there with me? For the video chat?"

  "Of course," I agree without needing to think about it.

  Relieved, she sighs and throws her arms around my neck. "Thank you so much Daniel," she whispers, her voice heavy with emotion. "I couldn't have done any of this without you." She sighs. "I love you."

  A shock goes through my system at hearing those words. This is the first time I hear them from someone who isn't related to me. Zoey seems to notice it a second after I do, and she stiffens. She pulls away frantically and stares at my face.

  "Daniel, I didn't-"

  I cut her off by grabbing her face and planting my lips on hers. She's hesitant at first, but she quickly tilts her head and melts into the kiss with me. After a moment, I pull away slowly.

  "I love you too."

  Her smile is wide and we close the distance once again. We're interrupted within seconds when my phone rings in my pocket. I ignore it. But then it rings again, too quickly after the first time, and I know it must be urgent. Annoyed, I groan and reluctantly let go of Zoey. It's Dad.

  Definitely urgent, I think.

  I pick it up. "Hello?"

  "Michael left two hours ago and hasn't returned," he says instead of greeting me.

  My heart drops. "We're on our way."

  "What is it?" Zoey asks worriedly.

  "I'm sorry baby, I have to go, Michael is missing."

  My mind goes into red alert mode as I jump out Zoey's window and start running for the forest, already dialing Connor's number. He picks up at the third ring.

  "I'm already on my way," he says before hanging up.

  Half an hour later, my brothers and I are all back in our house. Mom is already is tears, and Mason looks like he's on the verge of following her lead. Dad is the most distraught of us all, however. His voice is shaking as he starts giving us instructions of where we should start searching. No one is saying it out loud, but we're all thinking it; if someone kidnapped her, how in hell do we know where to start looking?

  However, we don't get very far in our planning, because the front door is flung open. We all turn expectantly, but it's just Sadie.

  "I drove here as soon as I could," she cries. "What happened? Where is she?"

  Zoey must have told her, I conclude.

  At first, my parents don't know how to react. They're not used to having anyone from the outside know about Michael. After much arguing, they convince her to go home, and that they will call her as soon as we find something. She's a very stubborn girl, even more than her sister, so it takes a while to finally get her out the door.

  Then we go back to planning, but we're interrupted once more two minutes later when the door opens again.

  This time, it's really Michael. She doesn't look so good, though. Her head has a large bump on it, her hair is disheveled and tears are streaming down her face. All of our attempts to get her to talk to us are in vain. She's answering us too robotically, and it silences us. Something very bad must have happened.

  "We'll... we'll talk to her tomorrow, find out what happened," Dad finally decides. "Let's go to bed for now. It's late."

  The shock has dissipated and has been replaced with worry for Michael's well-being. But like Dad said, we can't do anything until she's ready to let us in. So we all go to bed. I text Zoey before I fall asleep, telling her that Michael is okay and that I will explain everything tomorrow. I finish it with a reaffirmation that I love her.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  "You look horrible," Zoey tells me when I walk through her window the next day.

  "Mickey is back, but she's not doing so well," I inform her. "You should have seen her a breakfast, it was the strangest thing."

  "What happened at breakfast?"

  "She cooked," I explain, still trying to believe it myself.

  Zoey's eyes widen. "What?"

  "And cleaned," I add.

  "Whoa."

  I nod.

  "Must be serious."

  I nod again.

  "But she's okay, right?"

  I sigh. "I don't know; she's not talking to us. Dad says there's nothing we can do until she's ready to let us in."

  Her lips twist up in a sympathetic manner. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go back home?"

  I shake my head vehemently. "No, I promised I would be with you for this."

  She smiles and gives me a quick peck. She has already set up her laptop, and was just waiting for me. We sit together on her bed with her laptop in the middle between us.

  "Here we go," she whispers and clicks the call button.

  I hold her hand encouragingly as the familiar ring beeps a couple of times before someone on the other line picks up. Seconds later, a guy's face appears on the screen. At first glance, I notice that he has the same eye color as Sadie, although his hair is much darker, almost black.

  "Hello," Zoey awkwardly begins.

  "Hi," he says back with a tentative smile.

  "Daniel,
this is John Brock," she introduces us. "My, uh, brother. John, I'd like you to meet Daniel Connolly, my boyfr-" I am pleasantly surprised by what she's introducing me as, but I don't get the chance to hear all of it.

  "Oh my God," he cuts her off, suddenly looking at us with bewilderment. "Connolly."

  I frown, not knowing what his deal is. "Uh... yeah?"

  Then he says the last thing I ever expected him to say. "You're a werewolf, aren't you?"

  Chapter 29

  Michael

  I try to stay occupied so I don't get lost in my frantic thoughts. I don't want to allow myself to remember what happened, because I'm afraid I will start crying again. I've cried more than enough last night.

  It's barely six in the morning when I get out of bed, but I just can't sleep anymore. A shower is out of the question, although I need one, because there's nothing stopping my thoughts when I stand under the water. I need to keep myself busy.

  So I go to the kitchen first and clean everything in sight; from the dishes, to the oven, the floor and every surface imaginable. I even empty the fridge so I can shine it from the inside and rearrange the food in an obsessively organized way.

  By the time I'm done, it's only eight in the morning. My family is still sleeping, so I move to the downstairs bathroom. It's the only one in the house that doesn't have a shower, so it doesn't take me long to finish with it. Plus, it's not as if I have any experience cleaning bathrooms or anything.

  Since today's a Saturday, I don't think anyone might wake up before nine, which means I have just enough time to make them breakfast. If I'm a bad house cleaner, that's nothing compared to how terrible I am at cooking.

  I burn the pathetic excuse for a coffee and basically spill it all over the counter I just cleaned. The pancake mix is too muddy. I throw it out without even trying to fix it. I put too much pressure on the oranges and end up breaking the squeezer. When I decide to make eggs, the shell falls onto the frying pan, and I have to pick out the broken pieces while it's hot. The yolk spills all over the egg white, and it ends up looking like an omelet. Thankfully, this one doesn't get burned. The toast is easy to make, and I get the jam jar to place it on the table next to it. Milk and various kinds of cheese also follow.