Chapter 4 The Pack Room

Arya

The pack house was nothing like the woods I had grown up in. It stood tall like some castle. It's walls were decorated with stone, glass windows glowing from outside but protecting the privacy of the insider. The smell of smoke, fire torch and wolves sent tingles to my nose.

It was not just a house to the pack. It was their home.

I paused. I hated the way the warmth melted the icy shallowness I felt inside. It made heart ache. I don't belong here. That was a reminder that I made with every breath.

"Hey newbie," a sweet and sharp voice came from behind me.

I spun around and I saw her. She was so not only beautiful, she was raw and natural. Her honey-blonde hair were in waves. Her cheekbones could cut through paper, her eyes were icy blue like the sea. Her mouth curved into a razor-blade smirk.

"Lyria," she said, extending her hands towards me for a handshake.

"Arya..." I replied, mirroring her gesture.

"Follow me!"

She didn't even wait for a reply before she turned towards the other side of the hallway, walking down the hall like she owned the place. Her boots clacked hardly against the shiny wood floors, echoing loudly in the narrow space.

I followed without a word.

The halls were rowdy with children playing around, men laughing and women gossiping and exchanging stories around the fireplace. And for a while, I imagined what it would be like to be amongst them. To be normal and not carry secrets.

But this wasn't my story. They are all blood-spillers. Even these innocent looking children would one day grow up to be murderers.

"Over here," Lyria said, looking over her shoulder blades. Her eyes studied me, slow and mean. "Kyle may have allowed you in, stray. But don't think you're unique. He's quite benevolent, you know?"

"Umm... Okay?" I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Her face showed her annoyance at my reply, but I didn't care. She stopped infront of a door at the end of the corridor. "Here. This is where you'll be staying... for the meantime of course."

"Meantime?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed loudly, "Yes, if you last long, stray."

"Alright, got it."

I moved past the door and entered the room. It had a neatly dressed bed on the side, which could only accommodate one person. A small dresser was beside and a wooden chair was by the window. A rug was in the middle of the room behind the dresser, which made the floorboards soft. I looked through the window, I could see the training yard, where warriors were spared.

"Quite impressive for a rogue," Lyria spat, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded. "I must remind you. Don't get too comfortable. We both know you won't last for long." Her lips puckered into a pout

I walked slowly towards her and held my hand against her. "We'll see about that."

She bent her head, admiring her fingernails. "Kyle may have allowed you to be here, but he doesn't trust you, you know? Nobody does. Even me."

For a minute, silence floated in-between us and intense. I didn't want to give her the pleasure of replying. I just walked towards the door and banged it across her face.

The latch locked and I heaved a breath of satisfaction. The room was quite all of a sudden, the silence screaming in my ears.

I removed my boots and clothing as I opened the wardrobe and picked up a brown dress. I was so tired from yesterday's journey. I had travelled for a day barefoot and I needed to rest. I quickly took a shower and hopped on the bed as my consciousness faded slowly.

My eyes flung open as the moonlight set in. I must have slept for hours from the tiredness of my journey.

I walked towards the window. My reflection painting the glass, my eyes were tired. I put on the candle light and then reached out to my bag. I got out a little paper where I had written beforehand— I got in.

My handwriting was neat, straight but lacked patience. I folded it and tied it with a small thread. I shaped my mouth into a pout as I whistled. No one could hear it. The shadow landed on the window—a black raven.

I tied the note to it's legs and I whispered, "Go! Make sure it gets to him."

The bird flapped it's wings, disappearing into the darkness.

I was still standing at the window even long after it had gone. I didn't care if I did the right thing or not. All I know is that the pack must pay for their sins. My parents must be avenged. Whitestone must crumble.

And with all said and done, the image of Kyle's golden eyes would not let me be. The way he stared at me during the fight. My wolf stirred at the thought of him.

No. He was my enemy. All of them were.

I shook my head, trying to shift the thought.

Hours passed and the house became quiet. The fire torch burned brighter than before and a knock on my door broke the silence.

I swallowed my saliva. My senses blazing hot. My hands reached for my blade, but the knock was too clear to be a threat.

I moved to the door in slow steps and unlocked the latch. There he was, the alpha at the door.

The torchlight from the hallways didn't do justice to his looks. His board shoulders covering the door. His jaw was clenched, his face was stern.

We stood there for a moment in silence. His eyes studied me like he didn't trust me but didn't want me to go away either.

Then, his voice ended the silence in a low monotone. "I know you're hiding something."

His words pierced through my bone marrow like a sharp blade. My stomach curled. Nevertheless, I kept my face still, trying to hide my fear. "What do you mean?"

"Spill."

One word, but carried the weight of his thoughts. It was soft but soaked with power.

And my pulse thickened with the fear that he already knew.