Orphic (#1 in the Hajar series)

twelve

chapter twelve - hiraeth

song of the chapter ; call out my name - the weeknd

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A SHRILL SCREAM left Farah's mouth upon seeing the large creature scratching the hospital tiles with its elongated nails and large dark paws. It stood crouched and submissive, its eyes out of sight as they were downcast in capitulation. The animal's fear of scaring the girl more than she already was, was strong. It held no evil intentions, no ulterior motives or two-faced objectives.

Farah didn't know what to do. After all, the person she thought she knew in the slightest, had quite literally morphed into a wolf right in front of her. With shaky hands, she shifted herself on the bed, nearly shrieking when she almost tipped over the edge of the frame and fell in front of it. Her hospital dress stirred around her frail body, and again, she let out a small sound of distress when she felt her throat begin to ache again.

With a tender graze, her fingertips trailed over the frail skin that stretched over her neck and she was suddenly reminded of Noah's violent nature when she felt horizontal rough scratches and bruising over the flesh. If Noah was a lycanthrope too, and he was so horribly treacherous, who was to say the wolf- or rather, the man- standing in front of her, was not identical to him? Perhaps his hidden intentions were curtained behind a facade of trueness and kindness.

How could she be sure that he was not just as dangerous? That he would gather her trust only to manipulate and exploit it, just to use it against her and shatter it carelessly in the end? She knew firsthand that manipulative people were typically hard to pinpoint- as was Noah. Farah didn't even know that much about Israfil, how could she credence him with such blindness?

When the wolf finally lifted its head, Farah was suddenly aware of its towering and looming height. She could still not see the pupils under its half-open eyelids that were still downcast, almost afraid to reveal itself. Her head was spinning and she felt as if she had just spun in a constant circle countlessly and the room was rotating in its place. Her fingers moved from her neck to her head where she gripped the temples of the sides of her face

Her growing headache added to her nausea and the throbbing of her ribs. She was dehydrated, not deathly so, but in the way that she prayed that if she took a single sip of water, her pain would flood away. With a cautious hand, like she was awaiting the wolf to pounce, her hand reached out to the glass of water that stood on an oak bedside table.

Farah lifted the plastic cup to her lips and felt nothing short of relief when the cool liquid touched her lips and entered her mouth. As if it were an antidote, she gulped it down, scarcely breathing as she did so. She tipped her head back and finished the glass of water, before placing it down on the table once again.

Her breathing was erratic, both from the lack of breathing while drinking and from the large animal that was now peering up at her.

Her breath was most definitely gone now.

The contrast between the irises and the fur of the animal was just as indistinguishable as Israfil's human form, if not more. His eyes, she noted, were so silver they looked like porcelain disks. The animal was a beautiful painting of shades, most notably black and white, with small socks of dark grey around the paw. The pupils matched the onyx of the pelt, but the white was almost phantasmagorical and, well, strikingly contradictory, that it was hard to believe an animal could be so ethereal.

And when the wolf let out a small whine, Farah was reminded of the severity of the situation all of a sudden.

"You weren't lying," She felt as if this were some sort of dream, a twisted one at that, but still a dream. "Holy shit," Farah breathed.

The wolf maintained fierce eye contact as it neared the bedframe, its snout lifting up to her hand that was near the edge, her hand already outstretched. But when she felt the cold of its nose pressing against her palm, she quickly retracted it with vigor. But the wolf could not and would not be deterred, despite its low whine of disagreement. It was determined to prove that it meant no harm.

Farah was too fearful to move for the second time when she felt silky fur under her fingers. She felt a deep connection with the damned thing, as bad enough as it already was. She couldn't trust it. Or him. Or whatever that was. But the wolf positioned its head at a more accessible angle, but still, she was frozen.

Her fingers twitched, and with caution, she began to stroke the fur. Farah felt almost ridiculed from how quickly her life had changed in the past seventy seventy-two hours, at least she thought it was that long since she had passed out, but she wasn't sure.

The wolf let out a deep purr, the frame vibrating with the sound. It was appreciative of this newfound affection, even if it was minimal. After all, it wasn't Israfil who was in control, but it was his ebullient bodily counterpart. He was merely a passenger, unable to snatch onto the control. He had restrained the free spirit too much since he met Farah, not wanting to make her scared even though she certainly shouldn't be.

"Come back." Was all she could say.

The wolf stepped back with reluctance and shook out its thick fur before it's sharp fangs were on full display as it opened its mouth to gather the clothes from the floor before it turned and stepped out of the room and shortly, returned a shaken Israfil. He stood broad and tall like his inhuman parallel, his curly strands of ungelled hair falling onto his forehead.

"Don't be afraid." Those were his first words to her.

She peered up at him, a scoff leaving her throat. "You just turned into a wolf in front of my damn eyes and I'm not supposed to be scared?! Have you lost your damn mind?"

"I won't hurt you," He met her gaze with silver, almost white eyes. "And I think you know that. Don't be afraid," He repeated.

Farah hated herself then, truly. Especially when she felt the back of her eyes burning with unshed tears. "How can I not? Everything I've known is so blatantly a lie."

"It's not anymore. I have shown you the truth, so why won't you accept it?"

"Maybe because you just morphed into a fucking wolf in front of me," She bit out, her needled hand reaching up and wiping away fallen emotion. "But that's just a guess." Sarcasm snaked its way into her voice. "I have every right to be scared. Fear keeps you safe, he taught me that."

Israfil's face softened, his expression almost piteous. "He's gone now."

"Stop lying to me!" Farah shrieked. The tears poured down even more now. "He's always here. Always."

He walked towards her but halted dead in his tracks when he saw the small girl move back, her eyes wide and glassy, almost doe-like. He could sense the panic, and he despised it so much it physically hurt. His chest ached like someone had literally broken the bones underneath and they were still in the process of healing.

"What did he do to you?" He couldn't hold the question back this time.

With a pounding heart and a nauseous pit settling in her stomach, she whispered, "Nightmarish things."