Darkest Wolf

XXVII

I'm so sick of feeling like this.

Feeling so empty I could put the entire Sistine Chapel inside my soul.

I filled myself with the booze of a teenage party somewhere on a river. They were hiding from their parents and I was hiding from the feeling of a rejected mate. Streaks of ash had littered my perfectly blond hair so I no longer looked like my mother or my aunt. I looked like some Vanity Fair version of Cruella De Vil. I looked demented and remorseful and like the pissed off teen I am.

Some jerk with a Ken doll hair cut tried to give me a spiked drink and wound up being pushed into the river. A girl with a lip ring smoked something strong and danced slowly with me. My eyes burned purple but it was impossible to tell under the dark light of night. The moon wouldn't look at me now. I tried harder to be less aware and drink more but humans get drunk easy and don't much like it when they get their drinks taken away.

A beautiful girl with a butterfly hairclip took me by the arm and told me this place was dead and she knew somewhere better.

I went with her.

As we stepped light steps through the darkness of night, my toes curling with a feeling I had yet to experience that seemed to amplify with each movement. I watched as the girl with the butterfly hair clip smiled back at me in her drunken state. Maybe a little more intoxication on my end would have allowed me to smile at her but at this very moment the only recognizable emotion flowing through me was sadness.

_

She might not have gone in, my wolf whispered to me. Her voice was half a cry for help meant for my ears alone.

But my ears were done listening. I stared at the multitudes of twitching bodies. Some had stopped moving all together, I suppose. Most tried to live still. They wouldn't last much longer.

Part of me mourned them. The part of me that wished I were more like Ethan cried softly and repeated over and over that they were only human.

But that part was fast in fading. Ethan isn't here but a wolf so dark her hair breathed death with her every moment appeared and she blew onto me her wisdom. She said that humans are selfish and destruction flows through their every will. She smiles at me kindly and thanks me for doing the world this great good. They are dead, these few. I stopped them from hurting that girl.

The girl, too, lay twitching on the ground. Her lips were tinted with blood and her once pretty eyes now shine a pink similar to the butterfly hair clip in her short trimmed hair. She stared up at me asking for help without words for I was the last one standing.

There would be no possible help. No true saving. My wolf had encouraged my darkness up until now. I could feel her love for my entirety closing away slowly. Now she understands what everyone else has known for years.

What my mother should have realized when Wyatt tried to kill me and my brother years ago.

I am a monster.

I cannot be saved.