And There Were Wolves

four | now this is an open-shut case

By the time I got into my house, I could tell that my dad was preparing dinner in the kitchen from the sound of his knife hitting the chopping board. I placed my purse on the couch before making my way to the kitchen. "Smells good in here," I commented as I opened the fridge and picked up one can of soda. "What are you making, Dad?" I asked, turning around.

"It is just the usual, sweetie, you know—" Then he abruptly stopped. I watched him in confusion as he scrunched up his nose and then turned to me with questioning eyes. "Where have you been?" he asked, even though I had informed him earlier this morning that I was going to accompany Brett to his friend's wedding.

"Brett's friend's wedding. Why?" I opened the can and took a sip of the cold soda.

His eyes narrowed into a slit. "With who?"

"Brett?" I let out a nervous chuckle.

"No, I would know if it was Brett. You were with someone else," he said, as if he could tell. "Who was it, Xyrra?"

"How would you know?" I placed the can on top of the island next to the fridge and walked closer to the stove, curiously trying to figure out what he was making. My dad did not say anything for a few moments, and I glanced at him over my shoulder. "Dad?"

He put down his knife carefully on the side of the chopping board and then faced me with his arms folded in front of his black T-shirt and blue apron. "Are you sure you were only with Brett?"

"Yes." I chuckled.

"No, you were with someone and I know it was not Eros. Who's he?"

"Well, I was at a wedding, so technically there are a lot of people there." I frowned, confused by how serious he was.

"Don't lie to me now, Xyrra. Who was he? You tell me right now," he growled the last sentence, and it automatically reminded me of Ryker Cromwell, the groom.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He suddenly lunged at me and held both of my arms with his bare hands. "Who was he?" "I don't know who you are referring to." His nails dug into my skin painfully as his breathing grew hard. Then I noticed his pupil, his hazel eyes turning dark.

"Dad, you're hurting me," I pleaded as his nails dug deeper.

"Who?" he growled out again. His voice was different from his usual voice. It was deeper and his tone was a tad harsher. I flinched. In all my life, my dad had never yelled at me or scared me like this. He had always been a loving parent and the person standing so close to me right now was definitely not my dad.

"I said I don't know. I don't know most of the wedding guests, but all I know was that Alana was the bride and Ryker was the groom."

"Ryker." His grip loosened and his eyes kept flashing from black to hazel, then back to black. "Do we know anyone called Ryker?" he asked, but something told me that was not talking to me. His brows furrowed for a full minute before he blinked and his frown disappeared. "The Ethereal."

"The what now?" My dad's gaze back to me as if he had just realized that I was still there.

Slowly, his eyes turned back to their natural color. "Nothing, Sweetie. It's nothing." He walked away and returned to chopping the onions again and asked, "Does spaghetti bolognese sound good to you?"

I swallowed hard and forced myself to form an answer. "Yeah, sure." Then I made my back to the living room. "I'll go and clean up first, Dad."

"Okay, sweetie," he replied, sounding every bit like my dad. By the time I grabbed my purse, I breathed out and realized that I had been holding my breath this whole time. Once I was inside the bathroom, I checked my arms in the mirror and the marks that his nails had left. Some of his nails had indeed broken into my skin and caused small bleeding. I dipped my towel into the bowl of water and tapped the wound. It stung a little, but I was not feeling it as my mind tried to process what had just happened downstairs.