"B?" I awake to the sound the familiar sound of Kyran's voice. My eyes open. Where the hell am I even? It appears as if I'm in the living room of a very lucky family. An expensive flat screen TV and sumptuous chairs take up the room. It's not the typical inside of the house in Howl Falls.

I gasp slowly under my breath. Is it possible? Am I outside the fences of Howl Falls? I look at Kyran and ask with my weak voice, "Where are we?"

"We're in Hialeah, B," Kyran answers. Softly he strokes my hair as I begin twitching all over. We're outside the fences. How is that even possible? "We're outside the fences."

"But how?" I ask protestingly, pushing Kyran's hand away. "And why?"

"Because," a feminine soprano voice interjects. A slim teenage girl who appears to be around my age from the looks of it comes out into the living room with an ice pack in one hand. Her tresses of dirty brown hair are pinned up into a loose bun, poofing out above her head. She struts all the way over to me. "We needed to get you here somehow."

I grunt as I adjust myself into a sitting position on the couch I'm laying on. The girl offers me the ice pack, but I stubbornly refuse. Sabia has always told me, accept nothing from a stranger. Nothing. Don't accept anything even if it is a necessity or your favorite piece of candy. Kyran shoots me a stern look.

"This charming young lady is offering you an ice pack Betrys," Kyran says sternly from the corner of his mouth. "What do you say?"

I scoff, crossing my arms. "I'm not a child Kyran. I know what to say." I turn the young teen and flash a peace sign at her. "Sorry. I don't accept anything from a stranger. Especially if I'm on foreign soil and you can possibly be here to send me to my doom."

"No." Kyran flicks his finger across my shoulder, and I shoot him a quick sneer. I may not have answers yet, but I know for sure something fishy is going on at the moment. "You accept the ice pack and say thank you."

He turns to the young teenage girl and takes the ice pack. "I'm sorry, my sister has a bit of ... trust issues. She's really sweet once you get to know her, but right now it's best if you give her some space and let her get to know you first before you offer her something."

"I do not have trust issues," I shoot back at Kyran's remark and elbow him in the shoulder. He seriously needs to stop treating me as if I'm thirteen all over again. "And I should be able to speak up for myself."

The girl backs away slowly. "Oh look at that." She looks down at the watch on her wrist. "My hair treatment is up." She rushes out the living room, and I'm left alone with Kyran. It's time for answers.

"Can we slow down for a moment?" I ask him, taking the ice pack his hands and placing it on my bruised leg that I got from fighting back in my kidnapping. "What is going on here? Why am I here? Why are you here?" 

"B." Kyran caresses my short tufts of hair. As I hold the sizzling ice to my bruised knee, a pang shoots up in my joint. I let a howl of pain. Kyran takes my hand. "B, calm down. We're gonna have that talk right now." 

I look up as I hear footsteps enter the room. Eileene walks in clothed in a black suit with a holster full of toy weapons such as Nerf guns and tranquilizer guns. Her long clove-colored hair is at its finest, as usual, marcelled into delicate, silky fingerwaves. I guess that's one of the problems I have with her. I'm envious of her comeliness. 

"Have you told her yet?" Eileene asks, gesturing toward me and back at Kyran. He shakes his head and gestures toward me as bellow in agony. "... Oh." 

Shakily, I remove the ice pack from my skin, and it reveals a swollen bump right on top of my knee. Curious, I touch it, but it lets out a pang sending me jumping back in throbbing agony. I scream at the top of my lungs. 

"She's hurt," Eileene remarks, peering down at my bruise. I inspect the bruise - reddish and mixed with an excellent set of blacks and blues. I hold my hand over it, turning away from her as I wince and let out another cry of agony. "You get Athan; I'll go find the boys."

Kyran gets up and disappears into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Eileene goes to get the "boys," whoever they are. Tears pour down my cheeks like rainfall. When will this pain go away, I ask myself, still groaning like there's no tomorrow. When will I get answers? 

I holding myself crying and moaning simultaneously. I watch as Athan makes his way slowly into the living room. I watch as he runs his fingers through his soft and locks of short, onyx waves. His eyes seem to mesmerize me the way they're so feral and red. He looks over at me, cracking a slight smile at the corner of his lips and comes to my side. 

"Betrys." 

Out of the entire werewolf community, at least twenty percent of the population has pronounced my name wrong at least once; Athan is one of them. Athan pronounces it like this: B-tris which is an insult if used, but for Athan, I'll make an acceptation. I find his thick intriguing, to say the least. But it ends right there. 

After a moment of silence, I realize the agony I'm in and wait in discomfort. Athan grunts with thorniness and proceeds in speaking with that dark accent. "What happened? Are you okay?" He tries to touch my bruise, but I guard it willingly with my hand. 

"Just let me take a look at it, will you?" Athan asks me, grunting under his breath. Wincing, I shake my head stubbornly and my back to him. I feel him touch my shoulder as I continue holding in my groans of agony. "Betrys, I know you just as well as anyone. Why don't you trust me?" 

He knows why. 

Back in my freshman year, I'd gotten myself so worked up about Wolfcoming. Or as they call it in the human world - Homecoming. I'd convinced myself that my future Match and I would meet there. And then came the pep rally that Friday afternoon. 

I can still hear the sound of the choir harmonizing in three-part harmony whenever the thought comes to mind. The way Keanna and the other girls in Choir looked like angels singing a gospel hymn. But when I entered the melody, I made our tune sound like a cat yowling. (Maybe that's the reason I always seemed to get the worst grades in Choir. And why they refused to hand me my robe and stole.) 

"See?" I snap out of my daydreams to see Athan finishing wrapping a bandage around my bruised leg. How long had I gone out of reality? I realized he used the few moments I used to drift off into nostalgia. "It wasn't that hard, was it?"  

"No," I manage to get out barely audible. 

"How are you feeling?" Athan asks me softly.

I shrug, lowering my eyes to his gaze. "I don't know. Fatigued, maybe." 

"Aurelia," Athan calls out. A lanky girl who appears to be around the age of eighteen comes running into the room. I can't help but notice her oddly queer hair. Dark as midnight, wet and silk, sticking to her face like plastic wrap. "Betrys is tired. Would you mind helping her to your room?" 

"Not at all, little brother," Aurelia replies. She helps me off the couch, my legs wobbling like a child when they first learn to walk. Without securing an arm around her shoulder, I keep falling to the ground. 

Help. 

Athan and Aurelia each take one of my arms and hoist me up onto the ground. Sweat pours down my forehead from thrashing all around the floor, trying to get up onto my feet. They secure their arms around my shoulders and help me limp all the way down the endless hall of the darkness until we reach the end where only a single wood plastered into the narrow black wall persists. 

Aurelia reaches out and slides the door open. Before my eyes there stand a small room condemned to pink luxuries and paint. It's almost too much. The canopy draping around the four-poster bed is made entirely out of little gingham. The light from outside is completely curtained off with thick velvet curtains. 

They help me over to the bed. With an unpleasant grunt, I dismiss the two from my aid. Athan and Aurelia just stand there for a moment as I lay on the floor at the foot of the nightstand. I look at them with my nose wrinkled. 

"GO!" I bark. I bare my teeth at them - a way a lycanthrope tells someone they've come to close and are invading their personal space bubble. Sparks of horror in their eyes, they leave without another word. 

I latch my arms onto one of the posts and pull myself into the bed. I'm able to climb in one attempt successfully. I am celebrating my victory by sprawling all over the covers of the bed. The dream foam seems to massage my back the more I fall into the bed. 

"Relaxation feels like this," I tell myself, and beam. Sadly, the rapture doesn't last longer than a minute more. I find myself tossing and turning as I try to make my eyelids go heavy, but nothing seems to do the work.

That's it. I give up. I sit up on the bed and pull out my phone from my socks, the bright screening blaring in front off my unadjusted eyes. Oh, Lord. 

I stare at the picture on the screen. It's a screenshot of my favorite photograph of my mother in the house. The one where she's all dressed up in her Sunday best - a long yellow dress, her hair wreathed with a crown of tiny roses. She looks happy in that the picture, the way her smile beams brighter than the sun. It's the last one of her alone. It's the last picture of my parents. Period. 

It was taken the day before the Matching Ceremony. After the Matching Ceremony, the pictures of my parents came to complete halt. Whenever I ask Sabia why she says that they became too busy for pictures. 

A tear falls from my eye and onto my phone as the screen fades to black. As much as I deny it to anyone who asks, the fact that I'll never get to know my parents tears me to shreds. But I leave those tears for when I go to bed. I never let anyone know my weakness. A wolf with a soft spot doesn't deserve to be a wolf. 

The screen lights up with text message embedded inside a little bubble. 

Llwyd: Where are you? Sabia says you never came home last night. 

I click the home button at the bottom of my screen. Seriously, this new iOS update - or whatever this "company" wants to call it - is working my last nerve. The days of sliding the screen to unlock my phone were so much easier. 

I bring up my iMessage app and begin composing my text message.  

"'In some place called Hialeah,'" I whisper the words to myself as I text. I decide to leave everyone I've already seen out of this. I need to get answers before I tattle on Kyran and Eileene. Once Llwyd finds out they've been outside the fence, their marriage is sure to revoked. "'Haven't been able to see the outdoors yet. I'll gather intel and report back later.'" I hit the send button, and my message appears in a bubble diagonal to Llwyd's.  

Well, don't hesitate. Get me some intel ASAP. Llwyd replies a minute later. Great. I shove my phone back into my sock and drag myself out of bed now that my legs felt better. According to the electric neon clock on the nightstand, it's already five o'clock and a day after the Matching Ceremony. 

I make my way over to the walk-in closet across the room. I need to get into new clothes. My mother's Matching Ceremony gown isn't cutting it after nearly twenty-four hours of wearing it. It's against all I stand for, but if I wear something this frilly any longer, I'll probably shove a pillow in my face. 

Aurelia's closet contains anything but dawn-tinted fabrics. There's an assortment of disparate hues and patterns. I see blues, greens, florals, animal prints, awning stripes, polka-dots. Heaven is right before my eyes, I realize. 

I find a cerulean tank top and tear it from its hanger. I look around persistently, grunts of hastiness in between each and every breath. I need some pants. I get onto my hands and knees and scrounge around until I find some old jean. As step out of my dress, I pull on the jeans. Strangely, Aurelia and I are the same sizes for clothes. 

I fold my mother's dress into a neat square and place it where the jeans initially sat. At least someone will be able to enjoy the dress now that it's no use for me. When I come out of the closet, it's five thirty. I groan. 

Why does the phrase "Time passes by quickly" never applies to reality? In fact, it's an exaggerated metaphor to retain hope and focus for active teens and children. I sigh. Guess it's time to go gather intel. 

I tiptoe over to the door, making sure the floorboards didn't make a squeeze or shake whenever my feet move. I take deep breaths and get my hands on the door. Here goes nothing. I open the door a crack. There's nothing but darkness for a mile down the hallway. 

I take my chances and open the door the rest of the way, stepping into the endless hallway without a sound. My heart seems to grieve inside me - it has this warm feeling, but at the same time, it's aching and crying. I bite down on my lip and begin making my way down the hallway, my eyes tracing each curve of the lobby. 

The entrance consists of nothing but thin, dark walls and wood doors separated at even intervals. Not a sound can be heard from behind any of the doors. All that is present is an unnerving silence. After what seems to be five minutes worth of hallways, I make it into the living. 

All the doors are closed. The lights have been turned off, making it hard to see where everything in the room is. As I try to make my way to what I'm praying is the door to the outside world, I keep on bumping into ottomans and chairs. There might be one chance that I knock a priceless antique vase down on my journey there ...

Hehe. That's my bad. 

I feel around once I bump into a wall. I get my hand on the knob. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank you, Lord. But my relief suddenly transforms into an icy chill wuthering down my spine. Someone has caught me trying to escape. 

Am I in some sort of penitentiary, I ask myself. I breathe slowly as my hand drops to my side. Damn it. I turn around to see a flashlight shining on my face. I look to my side, grunting, and shielding my eyes from the light. 

"Leaving so soon, are you?" 

~

Hello, everyone. This is my favorite chapter, although I could've seen this going in another direction. 

Why do think Betrys is Hialeah? And why are Kyran and Eileene there?

Who do you think caught Betrys? 

If you liked this chapter, don't forget to vote and comment. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks! :) 

Here's a gif: 

Also here's a graphic showing how the conversation between Betrys and Llwyd would actually look like. 

X Shay X