Chapter Thirty-Eight (Part I)

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A/N- I apologize for the long wait; between ACT tutoring, college essays and philosophy homework, I haven't had much time to dedicate to writing. Which suckssss :( this thing I do here is like a drug - I have to write!! But don't worry, I'm taking the ACT this Saturday and my philosophy quizzes are ending this week. So I'll have a lot more time to write afterwards!

Thank you for your patience. I made this chapter extra long as a way of apologizing as well as thanking you all for your continuous support :)

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Adrianna's POV

The first thing that hit me, just as it always did, was the smell. The putrid scent of wolf ravaged through my senses like a shockwave; I cut off my breath once again and fastened my eyes on the scene before me, fighting every nerve that pained to get closer to Caleb- to get as close as I could possibly get to safety.

The entire room was spacious and gleaming.

This glow emanated from the yellow light bulbs hanging from the ceiling lamps, settled on countless table lamps, and protruding from where they were mounted as sconces on the walls-all of which seemed to be turned on, consequentially coloring the entirely lit cabin with a very yellow atmosphere. This seemed to provide the area with a warmth that was emphasized by the glossy, colored texture of the walls and floor and ceiling: a deep, cheery brown, like walnut. Everything about this place was welcoming, like a large fuzzy teddy bear waiting for you to envelope yourself inside its outstretched arms.

Well, maybe not everything.

"Adrianna."

Caleb's father pronounced my name and I found his pair of gilded eyes in the sea of orbs cluttering the inviting room, their expressions a stark contrast to the vibe the cabin itself gave off. These eyes all stared at me with keen intent, indented into the eye-sockets of the faces that made up the entire congregation of wolves.

The feeling of exposure, of complete and utter nakedness, was back. Only this time it was intensified times one thousand, as if each pair of eyes was picking me apart, cell by cell.

The door behind me closed with a resounding click and Caleb led me forwards, closer to the werewolves before us; our footfalls were the only sounds in the eerie quietness. There had to be about a hundred of werewolves in here, filling in every nook and cranny in what appeared to be the cabin's spacious living room. Towards the far back of the open-spaced area was a flight of wooden stairs that led up to a railed catwalk similar to the one in Esme's mansion. More werewolves occupied these stairs, sitting on the steps like Caleb does with his friends every morning at school. Other wolves were perched on the precariously thin railing of the catwalk, their feet dangling as if a faint breeze were kissing them. Others were sat on the floor, their legs crossed Indian-style, some with their backs resting on the walls or on the side of a coffee leather couch, where still even more wolves sat casually.

And of course, they were all looking at me, raking me up and down. Not a single eye was honed on anything else but my form, looks of mild interest in some and complete distaste brewing in others. Caleb had tensed a fraction of a bit beside me, but it was enough to make my nerves tighten with anxiety, threatening me with the onset of another bout of paralyzing fear.

No.

I trampled this sensation of nauseating consternation with a mighty mental vehemence, refusing to let the suffocating silence, the glittering, judgmental eyes, the calm demeanors worn by the individuals before me get the best of my character.

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