What is that missing quality? With Nico, I don't feel quite like this, though the same attraction exists.
"Ella... that attraction is what binds us together. It is the eternal bond released by our werewolf forms... or dog forms."
"G-griffin," I stutter, "is that why you have brown eyes? You are a crossbreed?"
"Yes," he looks away, shame in his features. "I know I'm not deserving of you."
"At least you can shift," I complain, snorting then laughing to try and cover it up. "I don't even know if I have a werewolf form."
He suddenly grows stiff. "What?" he asks.
"I'm not a full werewolf," I explain, "I was originally meant to be converted to a Spier. However, throughout the conversion something went wrong, and apparently my conversion had failed. I was going to die. But Nico came and gave me a few drops of his blood, and somehow I survived."
He remains motionless, thinking hard. "So you show the symptoms of both supernatural species?"
"Well, I changed in appearance, and my reflexes and strength improved. But I haven't shown any Spier abilities, besides the fact that I can see the shifters and heal the possessed."
"So you can't make a Spirit Spear," he said worriedly, "for any other person, that would be normal, but for you, that's very bad news. And what was the other thing you said you could-"
"Am I really going to die here?" I ask, touching his hand softly. He leans closer, kissing me on the forehead. Us being like this... it feels so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. I feel like a traitor.
"Not if I can help it," his kisses deepen, dancing across my skin. "But you will probably be removed from Pack 101, and they will be either exiled or terminated."
"What?! No, please, Griffin, don't let them," I beg, staring at him.
"There's not much I can do about that," he said softly, "it will be a stretch for me even to save you."
I think of their faces; Yi, Jake, Asher, Wes, and... Nico. They sacrificed everything to save me. I was so important to them. How could I let them down like this?
How could I let... him down?
"Please," I say, pulling away my arm, "I can't right now."
"Why?" His adorable eyes search my soul. After I say nothing in response, he resumes his previous action, passion burning in his expression.
"Please!" I squeal as he continues, "Nico wouldn't like-"
"What?" he asks angrily, stopping entirely. "Nico? He's the other one who marked you, right? Who cares what he thinks? You belong to me."
I am frozen, considering my own feelings. Why did I say that? I suppose it was because I felt like this wasn't right. Like I was betraying Nico. But am I really betraying him when he was the second one to mark me? Where should my allegiance lie?
"I was serious before," I urgently beg him, "I need some time to think before I go into brain overload. Please forgive me."
"I mean, I will always forgive you," Griffin replied, leaning back and lying on the edge of the bed, "but I am... angry. This is a strange feeling. It is like fire is choking me alive."
He looks at me with an inexplicable expression. "You should forget about him, Ella. He won't last long here. None of them will."
I bury myself under the covers, trying to escape the burning reality. I may not even see them again, and that is a hard thing to accept. This is too much to take in. Why does the fact that I might not see Nico hurt so much?
When I finally recover, I slowly sit up. The first thing I notice is that Griffin is there, sleeping on the side of the bed in his dog form. His personality as a human is so similar to his dog personality. He is earnest and persistent, passionate and loyal. My mind flashes back to the time when we were inseparable. That time seems so far in the past, but it was a time of incredible happiness.
Griffin lifts his head, and I find that in this form I can't call him anything but Scotty. "Scotty, could you bring me to the rest of the pack?" I ask him softly. He shakes his head. "Could.. you try to save them?" I beg him, growing desperate. Scotty looks at me, then meltingly nods in response.
We sit there for a minute, then Scotty travels over to my side. He places a paw right above my chest, staring with unblinking eyes. This moment of seriousness passes, and he pounces on me, licking my entire face. I begin to laugh.
"Stop... stop.... STOP!!!" I yell as he covers my face in sticky saliva. He backs off, running to the door. I smile as he somehow manages to paw the door open, walking outside into the hallway. The happiness in the room vanishes, however, when the door bangs to a shut. Suddenly my previously desolate state of being returns, and I feel the urge to cry.
Somehow, the thought that I may survive this whole ordeal at the cost of my pack's deaths makes me so depressed. I might as well just die with them, with the number of times Nico has saved me from certain death. I don't deserve to live any more than he does.
And there is also the fact that he is convinced that I hate him. The way he apologized to me last night displayed that. I want to explain to him before it is too late that I am not mad at him. Even now, it makes me hurt so much. I really don't understand myself anymore.
I lay on the bed, drifting into nothingness within the next few minutes.
* * *
During my time alone in my room, I try to create a spirit spear. Lying down on the floor, I close my eyes and try to imagine one. To imagine anything.
Although it has gotten easier to meditate, nothing happens even after hours of concentration. My eyes grow bloodshot and my body gets frenzied with anticipation. When is something finally going to happen? With every minute I am getting closer and closer to possible elimination by the council. No one has come to see me for two days, and the desperate nature of this whole situation is really starting to hit me. The horror of it at first was offset by the reappearance of Scotty, but now the fact that he's a freakin' man just adds more peculiarity to these circumstances. I have gotten sick of trying to figure this whole thing out. It's either I develop my skills, or I die. Unless I get a really good lawyer or something.
I haven't gotten any visions either, which is rather strange. I used to get them once every few days, but it has been almost a week since my last one. Only a few glimpses of this unknown world have skittered across my mind; most of dark forests, villages, and vast oceans. In all the scenes the same emotion appears—emptiness—which washes over the entire area like a flood. Not a single person is to be seen, not a sound to be heard. It leads me to wonder whether all of these glimpses and visions are just figments of my imagination, augmenting my deepest fears of becoming utterly alone.
For it is now a legitimate fear of mine, creeping upon me until it is impossible to ignore or avoid, making its timeless mark upon my form. Having met such crazy people, and having my life impacted in such a way really has affected me for the better or worse, depending on how I look at it. On one hand, I am now more vulnerable than I would like to be; I can now be hurt in ways that I couldn't before. On the other hand, however, I have been introduced to this warm feeling that I almost didn't know existed. It feels now like I am alive, and before like I wasn't living a true life. It makes me laugh to think now that the werewolves have brought me to death, then back to life.
But obviously now I can't fit in anywhere, which is why it is so important that I learn to create a spirit spear. I'm not a werewolf, Spier, or human being. I can heal the possessed but lack the basic abilities of any supernatural creature. I look the part, but I can't assimilate into any of those societies at this point.
Taking a pen from the desk beside me, I sit down and stare at a blank piece of paper. Laughingly I remember an aphorism and modify it to describe my situation perfectly. "Jack of all races," I whisper as I write, "master of none." Honestly, the council could kill me just for the fact that I'm an oddity.
Once I think about it, that's really all I ever was, even as a human. A laughingstock, caged in fear and criticism. But does being an oddity really warrant such chains?
I realize that I hav
e been straying from the point, and try to focus on the matter at hand, which seems to be saving my sorry butt. Flipping over the page, I try to brainstorm ways to prove that I am not a werewolf and therefore undeserving of the punishments they wish to give. Any tests of strength would not work because the council would think I was merely holding back on my power. Demonstrations of my Spier abilities would clearly be impossible unless a possessed man or woman popped out of nowhere, which would be...
Hey, that's not a half-bad idea. I write it down on my piece of paper and label it "Game Plan". That's really all the proof I have that's in my favor, and though it's a long-shot, it’s also a possibly redeeming move.
I settle on the floor, having put my piece of paper aside. Casting my eyes to the ceiling, I attempt to calm down and enter relaxation mode. As I predicted, it is pretty much impossible.
In spite of my nerves I eventually close my eyes, laying on the cold stone floor with my stomach to the ceiling. I take deep breaths, breathing in and out...
My heart jumps a million miles in the air as a key clicks in the lock. Oh crap. They're here.
Please not now!
The door swings open to reveal two armed guards, both staring at my strange position on the floor. Blushing, I scramble to my feet.
"The council has summoned you," the tall guard says, his brown hair covered by a strange hat made of metal. The other guard is short and stocky, with bright orange hair that lights up the entire room.
"I suppose I can't refuse to go," I laugh shakily, which reveals my inner nervousness as it escalates at a mile a minute. They shake their head in unison. I check my appearance in the mirror. I'm not dressed up or anything, but I feel that my clothes look half-way decent. And it’s not like I need makeup... which always makes me feel weird because I never looked at myself with satisfaction before my conversion.
I follow the tall guard out of the room, while the short one trails behind. With each step my heart thumps faster, getting louder and louder until it is the only thing I hear. The short guard, though remaining silent, touches my back once. Through that touch I can feel his laughter. I didn't know my heart was that loud.
Oh well.
The tall guard leads me to these double doors that stretch almost twenty feet in height, inscribed with designs along the sides. Both of the guards stand on either side of me, swinging the doors open slowly. They look heavy; I wonder how they do it. Probably with their super strength that I lack.
The room is not as grandiose as I thought it was going to be, but it is impressive in an entirely different manner. Instead of shining with overindulgence and lavish sculptures and paintings, it reminds me somewhat of a fairy wonderland. Somewhat difficult to describe, the ceiling is made of leaves and vines and gigantic trees are all over the place. Small fountains are at the corners of the room, spilling into tiny ponds in which koi fish swim. Flowers are placed sporadically throughout the room and on top of a marble platform in the center is a pure white table and several elaborate chairs. There is no other furniture in the room.
Not like I imagined at all.
Seated at these chairs are stunningly handsome men and women, five in total. The only one I recognize is Ferrars, who is staring at me then looking away with a strange expression. As I approach them, I bow slightly, which causes them to stand in a display of respect. I don't know what I did to deserve even this, considering that they were probably going to kill me.
"Good morning, Ella," a deep voice erupts from the man closest to me. He has light chocolate skin and bright green eyes, dressed in a toga-like robe. "I am Markus."
He lifts a hand to touch the regal woman beside him. "This is Gizelda, and next to her is Cyrus, Ulysses, and Ferrars." Gizelda has olive skin and black hair, while Cyrus is exceptionally tall with pale skin and silver hair. Ulysses is slightly tanned with a long black ponytail, which contrasts with Ferrars's light hair and skin.
"Good morning," I reply, not knowing quite what to do. The short guard elbows me, and as I turn to look at him he makes a gesture with his hands. I mirror the gesture, which I realize was the one Markus made to me on my way in.
"Your conversion went splendidly well," Gizelda comments, scanning my face and body, "you are quite beautiful." Her statement feels almost like a cold assessment.
"Thank you... High One," I choke as the guard elbows me again, whispering the words.
"Sit down," Markus smiles, gesturing to a chair about ten feet from the white table. Cautiously, I travel over to it, checking for bombs or something like that before sitting in the chair.
"Her smell is simply magnificent," Ulysses comments with a smile. Ferrars says nothing, almost squirming in his seat. The other four launch into a conversation about my looks and smell. Soon the whole conversation shifted to how I would be a good asset to headquarters, mostly as a female spy.
"She would be a good mate or servant to one of the nobles," Markus notes, marking in a notepad in front of him. Ferrars looked at Markus urgently after he says this, all of the sudden invested in the conversation.
"Markus, she's mated already," he says, then suddenly stops and looks like he wants to cough what he said back into his throat. The other four completely stop and stare at him.
"And how would you know that?" Gizelda asks, raising an eyebrow. Ferrars says nothing in response.
"Ella, please show us your marking," Ulysses requests, and they all turn to stare at me. Hesitantly I show them the mark near my neck. I had covered it with facial makeup earlier, so I rub it off quickly.
"Well, that eliminates those options," Cyrus looks at the others, "we don't really have much of a choice now. I'm guessing she is mated to someone from her pack. If we exile the pack like we originally planned, she will be torn apart due to her bond."
Silence reigns in the room for a few seconds. Ulysses and Gizelda are nodding their heads in agreement. Pure dread enters me, shocking my entire body. They are going to terminate me.
"Show them your other marking, Ella," Ferrars commands, looking almost as disturbed as I am. A collective gasp rises in the room, as all the attention once again rivets towards me.
I shakily raise the corner of my shirt, revealing the small marking near my hip. "Is that really a marking, Ulysses?" Cyrus asks, "you know I can't see very well."
"Oh, it is," Ulysses remarks, staring hard at it. "Ella, when did you receive these marks? What talent are you?"
"I'm... not sure. I was not conscious for either," I reply, "and I do not have a talent."
"Surely you have a talent," Markus says, "even if it is just developing, every werewolf has one."
"She is a strange creature," Gizelda smiles rather coldly, "she seems very confused and misguided. It would be best to terminate her, no matter how much of an asset she could potentially become."
It is at this point that I begin to seriously panic.
"Please, High Ones, I am not a werewolf! You must believe me!" Tears slip like raindrops from my features, and I stand up.
They look at me for a few seconds. "She is obviously a very confused creature," Gizelda repeats slowly.
"I promise, High Ones. I was never meant to have any characteristics of a werewolf, I-"
"Bring in the rest of her pack," Gizelda orders, "maybe she will stop spouting nonsense if she sees them." The doors open again and one by one each member of the pack are led in. Danae is not among them, but it seems that they captured Asher. Yi is still nowhere to be found. I begin to cry even harder when I see Nico's stunningly beautiful features covered in dirt and grime. His reaction is similar to my own.
"Gizelda, Ella is not speaking nonsense." The door bangs open again, and Griffin walks in. His hair glows along with his brown eyes, a smile on his features. He travels to my side, touching my shoulder once. "She is a Spier."
"Griffin, act as befitting your status," Cyrus sighs, "it is not your place to be defending her. It is obvious that she is a werewolf, and a unique one at that."
"But is it?" he responds, "she
does not have super strength, eyesight, or speed. She does not possess a talent as well, and was carried over to Headquarters because she couldn't keep up. In addition, she also possesses an ability that we would regret terminating her for. She is an asset so valuable that throwing her away would be like throwing away one of you, even. Her pack has done nothing wrong."
"What is it, Griffin?" Gizelda asks impatiently, "get to the point."
"She can heal the possessed," he says triumphantly, by which point the entire council is laughing with incredulity. I am even more puzzled. How did he know that? He must have questioned Nico or something.
"Good one, Griffin," Ferrars chuckles.
"Seriously, if you like her that much, you could have come up with something better than that," Ulysses says.
"She really can!" Nico pleads, breaking from the line he had been forced to stay in. He walks forward, and the others do as well. "We saw it several times."
"Well, obviously you all "saw" it, considering that every one of you clearly has a great attachment to this woman," Gizelda snaps, "excuse us if we don't take your testimonies as evidence."
"Please give me a chance," I beg them, trying to smile through my tears, "I was a Seer since I was a little girl. Asher awakened me, but the conversion was going unsuccessfully so Nico added some werewolf blood."
"So you are saying you are both werewolf and Spier?" Gizelda asks dryly. Obviously she is taking command of the conversation.
"Yes, High One." I nod my head.
"Okay, fine. Then you should be able to conjure a spirit spear for us."
Oh no. I look at Nico, then back at the council, fear in my eyes. "I am still developing that skill." I lower my eyes.
"Then you have no proof," Markus says calmly.
We stare at each other as the council continues to converse in loud tones. "I'm doomed," I mouth to Nico and the others. As he weakly smiles back, it is like a band-aid is ripped from an open sore, the pain swallowing me whole. It feels like everything shouldn't end this way. Like I would leave something unfinished if I was terminated now. Whether that something is mending my broken relationship with Nico or not, I can't really tell.
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