A Tangle of Fate and Fear 2
Not just in the way that sight naturally adjusted in the dark. It was clearer, too clear. I had somehow stepped closer to the scenes without moving at all.
I could make out the faded silver coating of the streetlights, the subtle sway of an old porch swing, the flicker of movement behind curtained windows, the creases on the skin of passing strangers.
A dull pressure settled behind my eyes, like a harsh whisper scratching against the inside of my skull and it itched.
Then the sounds came.
Dampened and muffled at first, like voices heard underwater, indistinct but present. A wooden door creaking open, a burst of obnoxious laughter from a group walking home, a low conversation threading through the air.
“...definitely here...“
“...yellow doesn't go with green...“
“...Tess is such a bitch you know...“
It went on, with names I'd heard before and with unfamiliar voices. A rush of static buzzed in my ears as if I had tuned into too many frequencies at once.
I squinted my eyes shut as I tried to pull away. My stomach flipped, my balance shifted, and I wrenched my gaze away, stumbling back with a sharp inhale.
Sweat coated my forehead and my ears continued its relentless buzzing. However, my world snapped back into place. The bedroom. The bloody maroon walls. The carpet I was sitting on.
My pulse hammered against my throat, and my insides felt pushed beyond their limits but my body outside felt steady. Not weak, not drained, just different.
Something else inside me had stretched awake, testing its reach. Which part now was the question? Werewolves had heightened senses but not to this point and it usually depended on the individual.
I pressed a hand to my forehead, waiting for the ache to dull.
Was it my Melbringer blood? Or was it a consequence of being descended from an Original?
I let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through my drying hair. Like I knew what either of those meant. All I knew was that I was changing. And I wasn’t sure if Springville would ever be ready for that.
I slumped against the wall, my breath coming too hot, too fast, too uneven. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I pressed my forehead against them, trying to steady my insides. I wouldn't want to run the room cold though I could feel the icy sting under my fingertips.
God. Ethan. I wouldn't want him to come up here again. “Calm down Harlyn,” I breathed in and out, slowly and deeply.
I relentlessly focused on my breathing, pushing out any urge to do anything but breathe but even then my hearing acted on its own, as if recognizing something.
The distant crunch of tires on gravel. I lifted my head, my pulse skipping.
Two heartbeats. Two presences calling out to me. The moment I felt them, I knew. Mom. Dad.
I didn’t think about it. My body moved before my mind caught up.
One second, I was sitting on the charcoal carpet, the next, I was blurring through the halls, the world blending into the wind at the edges. I barely registered the startled sound Khalid made as I passed him.
“Wait—”
Too late.
The front door swung open just as I reached it, and there they were.
My parents. My mom, unchanged with her poise demeanor and charming grace. Her brown hair was now cut shorter, resting in waves on her shoulder, and a small scar marred her neck.
My dad still looked rough but the warmth in his big hazel eyes remained, his beard had been cut clean and he looked right about his age now. I used to tease him every time he grew them out.
My eyes teared up at the sight of them. It had just been months but it was the first time I'd truly been away from them. I lunged forward, arms outstretched, desperate to hold them, to feel their embrace.
But before I could, they dropped to their knees.
Not in exhaustion. Not in pain. They knelt. Before me.
I froze. My arms were still half-raised in a hug that would never land. My breath caught in my throat. I turned around to see if anyone was behind me. Perhaps Ethan was.
But upon looking, I realized I was the only one still in the room. Khalid was by the stairs and footsteps were just approaching the scene.
What?
“What are you doing?” My voice came out small, almost lost in the space between us.
They didn’t answer right away. Instead, their gaze remained down.
At that moment, they weren't treating me like a daughter, but an authority bigger than them. It broke my heart.
Things had changed and I may never return to how things were.