Page 16 of Bitten, Marked, Obsessed

I lean my head against the mirror, breathing through the rising panic.

No sign of Mom. Her car’s gone. No note, no text. Great. Maybe she had errands. Maybe she had abreakdown. Maybe she is seeing Adora. Maybe she… then it hits me. Somthing PEACE said when they came to our school for an assembly senior year.

They warned us of things to report if we saw it take place, now that we were about to be in thereal world. Full moons caused triggers that can’t be helped. But a bite… it was… it was illegal. They said it was against the person’s choice awakening a sleeping bloodline that maybe the person didn’t want woken. And only a werewolf could do it.

Holy fuck.

I start laughing in shock now thinking that maybe Mom is actually in a secret bunker somewhere trying to come to terms with the fact her husband is a werewolf and her daughters are science projects gone sideways.

I throw on jeans and a hoodie and tie my hair up, but the bite shows, so I let my hair silver hair fall loose and pull the lips of my hood higher around my neck to hold my hair in place.

The urge to see Adora gnaws at me. If what happened to meiswhat happened to her, then she has to know. She has to remember. She’s just being quiet because she knows how bad it gets and doesn’t want Dad in trouble. Maybe she can tell me how to stop it.

How to fix it.

How toundoit.

I grab my keys. I’m halfway to the front door when a knock stops me dead.

Shit.

I already know who it is.

I hesitate, breathe out slowly, and yank the door open.

Stefan’s standing there, brows furrowed, phone in hand.

“Jesus, Kenny,” he says, eyes scanning me like he’s counting the cracks. “I’ve been texting you since yesterday. Are you okay?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. Sorry. Shit’s been... a lot.”

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

He steps in without asking. Smells like cedarwood cologne and the overpriced shampoo he swears he buys for “scalp health.” Though he’s familiar and comforting, I don’t think that I can be around him right now. Or trust myself to.

I try not to recoil when he hugs me.

My skin’s too sensitive. Everything feels like sandpaper and ice and static.

I pull back fast. “Sorry. Sore shoulder.”

He narrows his eyes. “What happened?”

I shrug, backing into the kitchen. “Nothing serious. Just... tripped in the alley like an idiot. Hit the wall hard.”

“You’re not clumsy,” he says flatly.

“Everyone’s clumsy sometimes.”

I head to the kitchen forcing myself to play it cool for now. THankfully, there is still coffee left. I pour it with trembling hands and pray he doesn’t notice.

“So,” he says slowly, leaning against the counter. “You disappeared after I offered to come to the hospital. Then I don’t hear from you all night. And now you’re acting weird.”

“I’mtired, Stefan.”

“You look like you’ve been in a bar fight.”

---