Chapter 19: I Hate Her

Adeline stared at the door with a blank face. Her heart was heavy as if a pound of rocks had been laid over it, but she was numb. Her mind was clouded over by a film of nothingness, she wasn't really even thinking. She was just there; just laying in her cold bed, staring at the door that was decorated with angry claw marks. The white door used to be decorated with paper threatening bodily harm to anyone who walked in without knocking, but now, the threats were permanently placed. Her pack members didn't need a piece of paper anymore, just looking at the ragged lines was enough to keep them well away.

Narrowing her heavy eyes at the door, she silently cursed the Moon.

This was Her fault.

It was the Moon's fault. She was lonely and angry at the world because of Her. The Moon had given her this life sentence, had given her this killer. She was a killer because of the Moon.

She was supposed to love and cherish her wolves, but instead of loving and treasuring, She hated and tortured. If the Moon loved her so much, then why was she like this? Why wasn't the Moon helping her?

Adeline hated the goddess.

She hated the Moon.

A tear slipped from her pale eye, over the bridge of her nose, and onto the mattress. Her body still trembled from the overwhelming amount of wolfsbane and silver flowing through her veins, but the tremors had calmed into nothing more than occasional shivers. Now, much to Adeline's dismay, her limbs had grown heavy and her head groggy. Drowsiness was a symptom of the wolfsbane, and she would stay like this for a few more hours, possibly even a day.

The silver should've paralyzed her, but thinking back on the past few hours, Adeline realized that she had been asleep for most of it. How pathetic. The silver had burned itself out while she slept. But she had taken enough of it that no matter what, it should've killed her. How the hell was she even alive? The silver should've killed her; it should've burned through her cells and veins and tissues, eating away at her insides with the fury of a wildfire.

She shouldn't be alive.

She didn't want to be alive.

She didn't want to hurt her parents or her pack, but she wanted the internal pain to stop. She wanted to stop hurting.

Why was that too much to ask for?

????

Finnian Vogel, Beta of the Western Pack, darted through the trees. New, unfamiliar scents flooded his nostrils and ran through his thick coat, making his paws leave and hit the ground faster. His lungs were burning and his muscles ached, but he continued running, he wouldn't fall behind the pack.

Dillon, the Alpha of the Southern Pack, gave him a side-long look from the corner of his pale eyes. Even if Dillon had been in his human skin, he wouldn't have had to say anything. Finnian understood the look.

Impression.

The Beta wasn't surprised. His own alpha, Travis, had always titled him as the pack's fastest runner. When sending him on patrols, Travis had to send the fastest females to keep up with him. Finnian didn't mind, not at all actually. He was more than happy to do something other than sitting around all day, deal with trespassing rogues, and exercise for hours upon hours on end.

It felt nice to feel pushed; to feel challenged.

The large brown wolf in front of him veered sharply to the right, leading the trailing pack of wolves to a large, fallen tree. Digging his claws into the moist soil to quicken his turn, Finnian raced after the Alpha.

The fallen tree was massive, nearly twice his width, and rising taller than even Dillon. Finnian could leap over that tree easily if he could just only muster the energy. Finnian watched with narrowed eyes as the large male quickened his pace, heading straight for the tree. He panted, his mouth open to let the crisp morning caress his tongue, but he pushed himself harder.

The Alpha quickened his pace to a flat out sprint, readying his body for the jump. Dillon soared over the fallen tree in one fluid movement, his shaggy tail a flag of challenge in the air- challenging Finnian. Taunting him.

Pushing his exhausted muscles to a painful burn, Finnian approached the tree. His ears pressed flat against his head and his eyes wide with determination, Finnian dug his hind claws into the soil and propelled his body over the fallen giant.

Hard earth should've met his paws, but to his surprise, paws instead landed in fresh mud. A yelp escaped his parched throat as the mud pulled and dragged his paws into their depths. Forcing his body to move, the Beta lunged through the mud, freeing his paws from its grasp.

That damn Alpha.

Freeing himself from the mud, he started once again into a sprint. That damn Alpha was at least hundred feet in front of him now. There was no way in hell that he was going to catch up to him again.

Yelps of surprise and frustration trailed after him as the others found the same fate he had.

His paws hit the earth hard as, to his dismay, his body began to slow ever so slightly. His body was not used to this vigorous training, and to think that he had it tomorrow, and the rest of the week was slightly terrifying. Dillon had said before they started the run that Mondays were the easiest training days of the week. Finnian was dreading Friday.

A blur of darkness barreled past him, sending clumps of mud and debris flying in front of him. Finnian let out a snarl as the shaggy black wolf gained distance between them.

Two.

Five.

Ten feet.

Pushing his legs faster than he had ever run before, he snarled as the pain began to melt away and was replaced by adrenaline and pure male determination.

Finnian was not going to finish in third place. He was not going to be outpaced by Clyde.

The Southern Beta had endurance on his side, but Finnian had speed.

His nostrils flared, trying to fill his aching lungs, but he pushed himself faster and harder, gaining slightly on the black wolf.

Clyde looked over his shoulder at him, the wolf's black eyes narrowed in anger and something else. A warning.

A challenge.

Something very primal swelled inside Finnian, something utterly animalistic.

'Make him pay,' His wolf snarled in his mind.

'So glad that you have awakened from your beauty sleep,' Finnian retorted dryly. His wolf let out a growl of annoyance.

A flood of strength soaked into his bones and muscles, the very energy flowing from his wolf.

Finnian was now on the wolf's shaggy tail. It would be so easy to just turn his head to the left, and clamp his teeth down onto the fur and bones. The repercussions would be worth it, just to hear the wolf howl out in pain. But Finnian wouldn't do it, not right now. He had to make an impression on the Southern Alpha, and attacking his beta wouldn't put him in the Alpha's good graces. If anything, it could be seen as an act of war. Finnian wouldn't do that to his pack, even if everything in him wanted to taste Clyde's blood.

The two males were now eye level, their legs a blur underneath their heaving bodies. Ivory white teeth flashed in the light, and Finnian returned the snarl, his canines lengthened with violence.

In the morning light, Finnian saw the Alpha's shadowy figure no more than two-hundred feet in front of them. Dillon's large form was motionless as his blue eyes tracked the racing Betas, watching and observing. The Alpha was hardly even winded from the miles long run, but Finnian knew that once the training ended and everyone left, the Alpha would run another few miles as fast as he could. Finnian supposed that alone time was just as important to the well-being of an Alpha as physical contact was.

'Go. Run. Faster. Now.' His wolf panted. Finnian did just that, but he could feel his wolf's strength waning. Much to his anger and frustration, the Southern Beta wasn't showing any signs of slowing. The two males were just as determined to beat the other as the silent white wolf catching up behind them.

Eighty more feet.

The mountain of a wolf was as silent as a falling snow as he gained distance, closing in on the two dominant wolves.

A barely familiar scent drifted to Finnian's nose as he lengthened his stride, pushing past the black wolf ever so slightly. His nose was now passing Clyde's, but he couldn't win by a nose length. He needed to win by a body length.

Fifty more feet.

The white wolf closing in on his right was gaining speed, steadily but surely.

'Faster.' His wolf urged, the deep, gravelly voice was strained and breathless. Finnian was almost out of borrowed energy, and, at that moment, he knew that he wouldn't win.

Twenty.

Clyde had replaced his gain by a muzzle length, then a head length. The silent white wolf with the eery amber eyes was head level with Finnian now.

Ten.

The Alpha stood in the center of the path, his stance unmoveable. Blue eyes roved over the trio, his face emotionless and hard. Observing.

Finnian threw in the last of his dwindling energy, but Clyde was too far ahead.

The three males raced past Dillon in a blur of black, auburn and white fur.

Finnian nearly collapsed to the floor in exhaustion, his muscles trembling with the strain of keeping his body upright. He wouldn't collapse to the forest floor, especially in front of others. Especially in front of Clyde.

The gods above, he hated that wolf. He hated Clyde with everything inside of him, and then some. It was hard to imagine that they had once been friends, more than friends even. They had been best friends. They had done everything together, they had fun together, they grew up together. But after the incident, their friendship was over, and all that was left was a simmering hatred.

Dillon stepped towards him, but suddenly, as if his head was attached to a string and it was yanked, the Alpha looked back in the direction they had just run from. His wild, glowing eyes settled in the direction of the mansion.

Dillon's jowls pulled back into a feral snarl as howls erupted in the direction of the mansion.