"I want you." With a touch as light as a feather, Cillian hooked a thick finger under her chin to get a better look at her face. "Look at me."
Slowly, her eyes cracked open, but she didn't dare meet his eyes. His grip tightened ever so slightly, a w...
"Wanting to hold you, wanting you near. How much I want to bring you home."
~ Journey, Open Arms
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Screams. Screams all around him. Fire at nearly every house. At just five years old, everything he ever knew was burning to the ground.
He gasped as he was lifted off the ground. It was his mom, covered in soot and blood. He cried as he clung to her and she cradled the back of his head. She planted a kiss to his hair and whispered to him, "it's okay, baby. We're gonna get out of here."
She couldn't even take two steps before the pair was sent flying in two different directions. The sheer force of the explosion created such a distance between them, his mom didn't get to him in time before a human did.
Black boots came into his hazy line of vision, making his little heart drop. Though in pain, he scrambled to get to his feet, but the owner of the boots had other plans. A thick wire clamped around his neck, making him hiss in pain. It was laced with silver, as was the pole it was connected to.
It was an altered snare catch pole for animals because that's what the humans saw them as- animals.
Despite his skin burning as if it would melt off, he frantically searched for his mom, desperate to know she's okay.
"Cillian!" He heard her cry out.
"Cillian?" A distant voice called out.
He turned his head as much as the pole would allow him to and found her being held at gunpoint by multiple humans. "Mommy!" He screamed and clawed at the pole and at the human man holding it.
All the man did was laugh as Cillian's little arms couldn't reach him. Even when he was able to turn enough to bite the pole, it had no effect on it what so ever. The man chuckled and dragged him in a different direction. "Look at you, probably not a day over six, and so brave. You got fight in you, mutt." He snickered, bringing the werewolf boy closer. "I'm gonna use that."
"Cillian." A voice called out, softly. "Are you okay?"
His body flinched awake and his gaze snapped up to meet Sophie's gaze, but he said nothing. He remained sitting up in bed, his hand oozing red. The culprit? A shattered lamp on the ground.
"Cillian!" She gasped and hurried to his side.
He didn't even flinch when she sat next to him, his eyes blank and cold, his body broken out in a light sweat. Blood splattered on his face and some spots that stained his clothes. Even with all the blood, he didn't seem to be in pain. She remembered her promise not to touch him and fought the urge to grab his bleeding hand.
She peeked up to find him already studying her, his gaze intense. "Are you okay?" She asked him, softly. "That must have been one intense nightmare."
Silently, his glazed over eyes searched hers. "Scared."
