Nicole's POV
--

The aroma of Alfredo sauce and fresh pasta hits my nose strong. I sigh in anticipation and walk into the kitchen, Dallas breathing hard behind me.

"Dal! What happened to you?" Mrs. Amicus exclaims, looking up while dishing some steaming pasta into three glass bowls.

"She tazored me." He wheezes and another pang of guilt erupts in my chest. But then I remember I shouldn't get too close to him. I should push him away. I should.

"He tazored me first!" I say indignantly.

"Because you laughed at me!" He retorts, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Usually, I would take that as a clue to stay silent, but I know he won't hurt me. So I snort.

"Whatever." I mumble beneath my breath and pull a chair out at the counter. It screeches in annoyance and I sit down in it. Dallas sits next to me and Mrs. Amicus sits across.

I notice there's an empty chair.

Who sits there? Where did they go? Curiosity blooms in my chest like a sunflower.

"Whose... Whose chair is that?" I mumble, glancing at Mrs. Amicus after taking a bite of the food. My mouth waters and I feel my eyes droop. A moan leaves my lips. "This is amazing, Mrs. Amicus." I inhale, letting two aromas mix in my senses. Mint and Pasta.

"Thank you, dear. You can just call me Carly." She smiles softly and elegantly brings a piece of pasta to her mouth. "My husband usually sits there, but he's out late tonight." Something in her emerald gaze has me mystified. There's something she's not telling me.

I nod and eagerly take another bite of pasta. While I eat, I take that time to look around the room, examining the beautiful pieces of artwork on the walls. The intricate lines have me dazzled and I hope one day I can be that good.

"You know, Mum. Nic loves to draw."

My fork clatters noisily on my plate when I drop it. My face is slackened in surprise. Did he seriously just tell her that? I try to keep my art a secret. I don't like attention.

Carly's eyebrows shoot up and she looks at me. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Her art is good as gold!" He boasts as if it was his own art. I just want to slap my hands over his mouth to stop his talking. His accent can't save him now, no matter how adorable his slang is.

"Really? May I see some of your art, Nicole?" She addresses me as if I am a queen. Is art something big here? "What do you draw?"

"Mostly the stars and galaxies. But I also draw wolves once in a while." My eyes find my plate and I eat less enthusiastically. The chewing and talking has stopped, and it takes me a moment to notice.

Carly and Dallas both are staring at me wondrously. When they notice me looking, they turn away and continue eating. Well, that was weird.

--

Once we have finished, Carly takes our plates and I thank her for dinner. She just smiles and tells me that it was a pleasure to have me. Common mom saying.

"Dal, why don't you walk Nicole home?" She asks as she sets the dishes in the sink with a loud clank. The sink turns on and she starts washing them. "It's getting dark."

"It's alright. I can walk myself," I say politely, hefting my heavy backpack. Dallas tilts his head at me and I find it difficult to resist his gaze.

"Its too dark and there are wolves out. I'll come with." He insists, nudging me gently. His touch makes tingles flare on my skin and I pull away awkwardly.

"Okay..." I tilt my head, my blue eyes gazing at his green ones intently. Why does he insist so badly?

"Be careful!" Carly yells as we walk to the front door. It takes five minutes. FIVE MINUTES to get to the door. The house is so big. I will never be able to stop admiring it.

Dallas opens the door, grinning, and bows dramatically.

"M'lady."

"Thank you good sir." I curtsey and roll my eyes. "You're a dork."

--

After walking for a good few minutes in a comfortable silence, my backpack becomes drastically heavy. That only means one thing.

I'm exhausted.

My footsteps slow and Dallas must notice because he grabs my backpack and without a second for me to think, slips it off my back and onto his. Usually, I would take it back and argue that he doesn't need to do that, but I can't keep myself from grinning inwardly.

"You alright, Nic?" He asks, his accent making me feel a rush of adrenaline. His eyes glow in the darkness and I marvel at them.

"Yeah. Just tired... Th-Thanks.." I mumble in embarrassment. Our footsteps echo in the quiet of the night, the crisp night air filling my lungs and making me feel fresh. "Two more streets." I inform him.

"Alright." Suddenly, he stops, his form becoming rigid and tense. What is up with him? Then, the smell hits me.

Along with the fresh smell of Mint is a musk so thick and gross, it clouds my senses. It smells like poop and dirt mixed together. Ew.

"What's wrong, Dallas?" My voice comes out a strangled whisper. "What is that smell?"

When he looks at me, his eyes are dual-colored. What on earth is going on?!

"You need to get home. Fast," he informs me, grabbing my arm and pulling me down the sidewalk. We must be quite a sight, him dragging me with my backpack on his back.

"Dallas! What's-What's going on?!" I demand, reluctantly following. If I didn't, I'd fall face-first onto the sidewalk.

"Trust me! I'll explain when we get to your house!" His voice is full of urgency that anyone would be crazy not to listen.

We race down the street, my backpack slapping against Dallas's back. Our breathing is loud and heavy, but somehow, I hear a thump-thump. I know it's our heartbeats. Is that weird? Why can I hear our heartbeats? There's something wrong with me. I'm hearing things.

Suddenly, growls echo behind us, making panic shoot through me and fear to propel me forward. The sounds around us fade to a dull hum in my ears as my own panic bubble surrounds me. Wolves are chasing us and I am going to die. This is it. Dallas and I are as good as gone.

I'm about to just give up when I realize Dallas isn't next to me. Great, he left.

That's when I risk a glance over my shoulder. The sight had me shocked enough that I stop and fully turn around. And oh, the irony. I turn in shock to see my dog, Shock.

His silver fur is ruffled and his eyes glint defiantly. Their beautiful multicolors has me wowed. Facing him is two giant wolves, much bigger than him. But somehow, I know these wolves have no chance.

His fur stands on end, making him look wound up tight like a wind-up toy. His teeth or bared, showing how dangerous they are, and how badly they can hurt. He stares at them with such hatred, that it makes them stop in their tracks. Their dull, brown fur is shaggy and long, nothing compared to that of my beautiful dog. Their eyes are silver, contrasting deeply with their fur. Muscles bulge on their bodies, but they are nothing. Nothing compared to Shock.

I know I should call 9-1-1 or something, but I can only watch in awestruck horror as the two wolves pounce at Shock, lashing out at him. Bloody lines of crimson appear wherever their claws touch and Shock doesn't even flinch. He retaliates quickly, lurching back and grabbing one by the neck to yank it upwards. It's body falls helplessly to the floor and Shock turns to the other wolf.

They stare at each other a few moments and for a second, I think the wolf is going to turn and run. But of course, he doesn't. He is stupid enough to do the exact same thing as his pal.

With a satisfied shake of his head and a glance in my direction, my dog races away. Blood spews from his sides, leaving a bloody trail on the ground. I'm too startled to call after him. Where has he been? Where is he going? Why has he been gone?

The worst part is, I have no idea where Dallas went.

That's when I notice my light blue backpack leaning against the curb, untouched.