The Night Children

Chapter 51

I ignored his calls for me to come back, but instead continued to trudge through the snow, my ankles sinking into its layer as I strode. I didn't know what to believe anymore, this town was corrupted by lies and I was beginning to drown in them.

Who was Aaron?

I didn't recognise him anymore. Whoever I thought he was, he wasn't the boy I had kissed on the hill under the stars, he was a stranger to me. He wasn't the boy who had the lovely green eyes and glorious smile, he was instead just as manipulative Pincel and Miss Anderson. Nonetheless, he didn't run after me as I turned away from him, refusing to acknowledge his pleas for me to listen. I was done with listening, I needed to do something.

So I broke into a run. I didn't know where I was going, all I knew I had to keep going otherwise I would break. So my feet propelled me over the snow, my tears freezing to form icicles in my eyelashes. The trees thickened, growing denser and denser until I had to weave through branches, ducking under leaves and manoeuvring myself past roots.

Isaac was a wolf. He wasn't just a wolf; he was my wolf. The wolf who had snarled at me after I took a picture of him, the wolf who had let me bury myself into his ruff, the wolf who had blood on his paws, the wolf who saved me from the creature in the woods. The wolf who tore apart Amber.

I swallowed, stumbling through the snow as snowflakes tickled my cheeks. Isaac was here all along. Even when he was gone for months, he still remained at the back of my home, whisking through the forest like a shadow. He was always here, even when I believed he wasn't. He found me at the warehouse because he was always constantly in the shadows, disguised as a golden eyed wolf. He knew so much of the Forsaken because he himself lives with them. He knew of Ambers body because he was the culprit. He didn't die when he was torn apart by the wolves because of his supernatural abilities. Everything was beginning to piece together in a puzzle, but at that moment in time, I wanted the puzzle to burn. The pieces that were fitting together weren't the pieces I wanted to place.

I kept walking forwards, my mind a whirling cloud of jumbled thoughts. The court case, the uncovered memories, Mums betrayal, Miss Andersons fuming face, Pincels hands on me, Isaac pointing the gun to his heart. It was all just one whirlpool of images, crashing and rolling into waves to sear through my brain. All those things Isaac described as traits of the Parade was actually traits of a werewolf. Yellow eyes, fast healing, aggressive behaviour, dominant characteristics. He was one of them all along, and I had been dumb enough to never see it.

And then Miss Anderson. Who was she? She slaughtered the wolves like it was nothing, the twist of her fingers against the throwing daggers a gracefully natural move. She must be a Parade member but then was she killing the Forsaken or the wolves. I stumbled in my tracks, tripping over the dense snow. But if the children were wolves, then who were the Forsaken?

A howl broke through my thoughts, echoing against my ears so it rung in my head. I flinched and spun towards the noise, goosebumps chilling my skin against the level of despair in its voice. It didn't stop, however another howl overrose it, its harmony dark and melancholic, embedded with a note of misery. I instantly knew something was wrong, and didn't hesitate in spearing towards the noise. I pushed at the snow, scooping it with my arms as I ran, attempting to clear a path as the snowflakes began to cake my vision. That howl was similar to Isaac's when Aleena was shot, its noise not one of elation but sorrow. I ignored the sudden surge of uneasiness that clotted my veins and instead ducked under a branch, bursting into a smaller clearing. A figure lay there, tiny in comparison to the swaying trees around it. I took a flying leap towards it, sliding to a halt on my knees to examine the small creature. It was coated in snow, however it wasn't shivering, as if it no longer could feel the icy sting of snow against its skin. But then I recognised blonde hair.