Blue Moon » Stilinski

Four

Hope you guys had a good 2013! The year is almost up, and so here's one last update before we move into foreign territory. Love ya! Like always, VOTE. COMMENT. FAN. ENJOY. :D

                                                            Chapter Four

                                                               • Aubrey •

I have been reborn into a world of veiled cruelty. A realm of fake smiles and wary glances and undying patience. And when I finally escape from this prison― if I ever escape― I don’t know what form I’ll be leaving in.

            I’m so unsure of myself; I have no idea what I’ve become. Or where I’m going.

            My mind is divided, as it has been since the night of the fight; half of it is a mess of reruns, mulling over conspiracies and the events that set me on this downward spiral, with the other half floating somewhere around the present. Now is the most focused I’ve been in days, which is mostly due to the panic that has found a residence in my stomach, stretching and twisting my insides into knots. Untying them and then retying them. It’s a constant cycle of feeling like I’m being tethered to my body, watching my life being slowly destroyed.

            One of the members of the alpha pack― an older woman with pretty gray hair and a not-so-pretty smile― kneels down to measure god knows what with the measuring tape strung around her knobby fingers. If I had run into her on the street, I would have thought the woman was someone’s kind grandmother, if not for the tattoos and symbols that covered almost every inch of her flesh. That, and of course the fact that the general majority of the alpha pack is anything but kind and grandmotherly.

            Roxanne sits on the other side of the room in a stiff wooden chair― even though all around her are plush couches and well-worn recliners― and smiles, the product closer resembling a snarl. Her eyes tear up, probably at her intense desire to rip me to shreds with her bare teeth… but maybe that’s just a matter of my perception. Maybe Roxanne is actually true to her word this time, and that I’ve come home because that is what is best for the pack, best for me. Maybe she really does genuinely care about me…

            No, I think harshly, the words almost brushing past my lips. This is all an act, calculated to make me trust them. Trust the enemies. Roxanne is nothing but a master manipulator and a professional actress, willing to do anything to keep me on her set track.

            Ever since I stumbled back into consciousness that night and realized that I was nowhere near the veterinary clinic or Stiles, I’ve been kept on constant watch. I don’t always see my guards, but I can feel them watching me. And ever since then, everyone is acting… strange. Like I had never left the house at all― twice― or fallen in love with a human. Like I have never directly defied Roxanne or broken every rule it was possible to break, and then some. The members of the pack― my pack― kept constantly watching me from a distance, glancing away quickly whenever I made eye contact. But on those few moments when I could hold someone’s gaze, I was always met with a mixture of reverence, awe, and occasionally, fear. If anyone harbored secret feelings towards me, they would have to answer to Roxanne.

            That was probably the most outlandish thing of all: somehow, I had become Roxanne’s golden girl. Instead of beating me with cruelty and dominance, she treated me like I was a child that needed to hold her hand, but let me decide wherever I wanted to drag her to. I had control, as long as I stayed within her personal guidelines.