Chapter 21

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Willow was freaking out

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Willow was freaking out.

She had first stopped by her house, then  Paul's house, the cliff, their childhood treehouse, and finally the little diner. There was no sign of him. She was on edge and unsure about what to do at this point, not wanting to return with no leads. She put the truck into park in front of her house, her fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed in the seat next to and with a reluctant sigh she reached for it.

There were a few messages from Jasper, one from her friend Maggie, five from Alice, and a missed call from Bella. She locked the screen, ignoring it all as her mind flooded with horrible scenarios that Paul had gotten himself mixed into. With a frustrated grunt she climbed out of the truck, shoving her phone in the pocket of her jacket.

Willow was thankful that Charlie was at work when she slammed the door, her boots pounding against the floor aggressively as she ran up to her room. Half hoping that Paul was chilling in her bedroom, playing a prank that she could cuss him out about. Instead she was met with an empty bedroom, but to her horror it wasnt how she left it.

Laying on her bed was her painting that was sold months ago to Noah. Achilles Weak Spot. Beside it was her worn out book of poetry that belonged to her father, the worn out letter that she had refused to open from Noah was propped up for her to see.

"Fuck me." Willow muttered, her eyes widening as she looked at her open window. Everything started clicking. All of this led back to Noah which meant that Paul was mixed up in all of it. Willow quickly dug her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through until she found the messages of the unknown number that had started around the time of Noah's escape.

Without a second thought Willow hit the call button. One ring was all it took.

"I was wondering when you would call me, princess." Noah's cocky tone ran through the speaker. "Did you like my clues?"

"Where's Paul?" Willow demanded, earning a laugh from Noah.

"You are no fun. Always straight to the point." Noah grumbled as Willow moved across the room to shut her window. "Take a moment to appreciate that I took down one of the big bad wolves." The teasing was clear in his voice.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Willow's voice was hard, strands of her red hair falling in her face.   

"Language." Noah scolded  his tine sharp. "I have a riddle for you. How many bags of morphine does it take to keep a shapeshifter unconscious?"  Willow could hear her heartbeat in her ears, her fingers tightening around her phone.

"You'll kill him." Willow sounded breathless, disbelief feeling her as her mind filled visions of Paul in distress to Paul dead.

"Use your brain princess." Noah scoffed. "His metabolism burns too fast for him to die of a morphine overdose."

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Willow shouted.

"Watch. Your. Language." Noah warned, his tone lacking patience. "Your dog is being kept unconscious, in pristine condition. If you want him back you know where to go."

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