Chapter 83 83

Chapter 83 83
Travis point of view

We all watched Dylan storm out of the dining hall. I had no idea what was wrong with him these past few days. I tried talking to him, along with Morgan, but he wasn't saying a thing. It was almost like he was in pain.
I didn't know what to do.
I watched our Luna, Aderyn, from across the table while we had breakfast. She seemed preoccupied with her thoughts. She was also worried for him. She had that look on her.
I sighed silently. I had to talk to him.
Then came the newest guest in the pack: Reagan. He strode inside like he owned the place in his usual color—black. He didn't waste time in grabbing a seat. Well, for the past few days he had been here, he had been inviting himself for breakfast.
At first, I thought his presence was the cause of Dylan's agitation, but it wasn't. Dylan barely noticed him, or rather just preferred to ignore him, focusing on whatever problems he had.
Reagan picked up an apple from the fruit bowl, not saying a word. He strutted out the same way he came.
Honestly, I found the witch a little strange, but that was all. Everyone had been keeping an eye on him, watching his every movement. But he had been of help, at least to Aderyn and the witches working on Cora's last journal and the curse crisis. To me, that counted for something.
We were barely through with our breakfast when a sudden release of immense power hit us. Then our wolves whimpered, bowing in submission at the loud growls that echoed in the pack. It was from Dylan, and every wolf felt it. Maybe even Aderyn, because her eyes shot up instantly.
Morgan and I exchanged glances the instant the growls died. We got up on our feet to find him. He needed to tell us exactly what was happening.



Allegra point of view

My eyes never left him. I watched him cautiously, every movement of his, taking in every detail. He didn't speak a word. He simply grabbed an apple—the red color. He seemed to like it. He had been having it almost every day. Just like that, he moved out.
I stopped myself from sighing. I didn't know what was happening to me. But every time I saw him, I couldn't help but remember the time he saved me, killing his own, and then my heart would begin to thump, just like how it was beating now. Part of me thanked Dylan for allowing him to stay. Until I figured out why I was always helpless around him, I couldn't let him out of my sight.
Darn it. I just remembered I hadn't thanked him yet. That was a task to add to my to-do list.
I kept on eating through my breakfast when a powerful wave hit me. At the familiar wave of energy, I knew it was Dylan. It was like he was hurting.
My heart broke. I hated it when he was in pain. He was my savior and like the overprotective brother I always wished for but never had. I hoped he was okay.
Travis and Morgan rushed out of the dining hall. A short while later, I was through with my breakfast. I helped Claire and Rosie in clearing the table, after which I grabbed an apple—the red one—leaving with a smile.
I had to thank him. I hadn't yet. I went to the guest room on the third floor where Dylan had him stay. I knocked on the door, but there was no response. I checked for a heartbeat inside, and he wasn't in.
I sighed, disappointed but not defeated. I would find him.
I walked around the mansion. I sighted him from afar, down the hallway on the ground floor. Without hesitation, I approached him.
"Hey!" I chirped the moment I stood before him.
His deep, mysterious hazel eyes were staring at me carefully, almost as if examining me. His black, gleaming hair covered the other half of his face. Frankly, he was quite handsome.
He didn't say a single word. He was just staring, as if wanting a nuisance out of its way. Ouch! That hurt. But why did it hurt so much?
"I'm Allegra," I said with a sheepish grin.
He kept on staring, his gaze almost saying 'What do I care?'
Darn it. That hurt again.
"Uhm... I—I—" I began to falter in my words, mentally deciding this was a huge mistake. I shouldn't have approached him. Fear almost had me; the way he bored down at me intimidated me and had me terrified. Just as the rumors said, he really looked like a devil, but a beautiful devil.
Suddenly, I found a new courage just wandering into his eyes. "I want to thank you." Yes! I said it finally.
His gaze remained indifferent. I could tell he understood why I was thanking him, but I would say it either way.
"You saved me when those uhm..." I was searching for the right words. I wasn't exactly sure how to address those evil witch maniacs that almost butchered me. His friends? His enemies?
"...from saving me from those dark, creepy, evil, maniacal witches." Well, the description was too long, but I'm sure he got my point.
He replied back with his usual stony silence, which, by the way, I was totally getting used to.
"So... uhm... here... a thank-you gift." I revealed the red apple that I hid behind my back, giving it to him.
His gaze changed quickly to bewilderment before masking as quickly. He looked like he had had enough of his time-wasting. He was about to move away when I grabbed his hand, placing the apple in it. I did that without thinking. Immediately, I turned and left, not even waiting for a reaction from him. I felt slightly embarrassed; even my cheeks were lighting up red.



Morgan point of view

Travis and I ran into the woods in our wolf form in search of Dylan. Luckily, we found him. He was seated beside the clear blue river near the Northside border. He had already shifted into his human form, but his clothes were torn. He must have shifted in agony, purposely inflicting pain on himself. But why?
"Alpha." I shifted back to my human form, donning a pair of jeans. Travis did, too.
We moved closer, plopping down beside him at both ends so he was seated in between us.
"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" He swirled toward us.
"No. We heard your growls. Everyone did, Dylan," I replied, gently playing with the water.
"What's wrong, Dylan?" Travis went direct.
Dylan's face became serious. He sighed, keeping silent.
"Come on, Alpha. Talk to us. Everyone's worried; even Aderyn is worried." At the mention of her name, he sighed again, running his palm over his face.
"I'm so fucking confused. I do not know what to do."
"With what exactly?" I asked.
"I can't control it. Being near her drives me insane. I might lose it one day and hurt her." Now he was speaking in riddles.
"Being near who? Luna?" Travis looked more confused than I.
It was obvious he was talking about Luna, but wasn't it supposed to be that being near our mates, we could never hurt them?
"Why do you want to hurt her?"
"I could never hurt her. Never. I would give my life for her. I swear I would. But this overwhelming hunger is buried deep within. I can't fight it."
Dylan stood up, pacing around. He really looked tired and conflicted. Fuck! I just wanted him to be okay. I hated seeing him this way.
"Hunger? You are talking about your vampire side."
"You are hungry for what?"
"For our Luna. For her blood, right?" Travis spoke. Dylan could only nod vexedly.
Shit. This was, well—complicated.
"I could hurt her, even kill her," Dylan added. "I've tried everything, but this thirst for her blood isn't going."
"Then don't fight it. If you want to feed from her, then do it," I spoke.
Dylan glared at my suggestion.
"You of all people know you won't hurt her. Maybe all you need is just to drink from her."
"And kill her?" He growled mildly.
"No, Dylan. I think Morgan is actually right, you know. You would just feed from her a little," Travis supported.
But Dylan looked like he had had this talk with himself and even imagined it, and it clearly seemed like every outcome of this ended up with him killing his mate. That was the worst thought for a werewolf; killing one's mate was like ending your own life. I could understand him. He was damned frightened of losing control like he did some years back, where he almost turned into a bloodsucking monster. Then, he killed almost a whole human town. Those nightmares still haunted him.
Again... this was so fucked up.
"Think about it, Dylan. Just think."
Dylan looked really torn. Even as we reached the pack house, anyone could tell he was at war with himself.