Chapter 17

Isabella could no longer suppress the pain. A tear rolled down her cheek. How could they manage to survive? As if the pain of losing his mother wasn't hard enough, he also had to take the blame for something he'd no power over.
"I remember my mother's last words to my father, 'Take care of my children'." He sniffled; she almost thought he was going to cry. "You know, now that I look back, I think she knew. Her subconscious was telling her something was wrong."
Isabella moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. He was so tall that she felt like a child compared to him. She wasn't surprised that he didn't push her away. What he did next, however, surprised her: he hugged her tightly, as if she could take away his pain - she wished she could.
"It was that morning when the picture was taken. I..." he lost his voice. There was silence for a minute. Isabella wanted to say something, but for the life of her she couldn't get a word out.
She didn't think he'd continue, but she heard him speak so softly that at first she thought. "I stood to the side and watched her beg Peter to take her on, but he was too shy. I remember wishing she'd ask me. She loved Peter more, I think it's something to do with his tough exterior or maybe it's his charm. I don't know."
"It must be his charm." She said, trying to lighten the mood.
It was working. He lifted his head high enough for her to see a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

"I wouldn't argue." His voice was a little strained. "You're a woman, you know these things."
She smiled.
"You know you're just like her." He said, lying on his back with a deadly look. She couldn't help but wonder if that was the same look he wore in a fight. "She always managed to make me smile when I was sad. Maybe that's why I warmed up to you so quickly."
"Oh please." She said jokingly. "You know it's nothing to do with that. I'm just awesome."
He stared at the ceiling for a while. "Don't flatter yourself, darling."
"Whatever." Isabella smiled down at him.
He patted the seat next to him and said. "Sleep with me."
She laughed sullenly and hung her head far in the air. "That doesn't sound good. I don't think Peter will like it."
He laughed bitterly, mimicking her perfectly. "I know he wouldn't like it. He's not here." He looked at his wristwatch. "He should be here in an hour or so. Why did you come so early anyway?"
"I'd to see my friend."
"Friend?" he asked.
"Yes. Boyfriend."
He nodded. "I guess so. Boyfriend."
Isabella slowly slid down until her back was resting comfortably on the bed. He took her hand in his, and when she looked up at him, he gave her a smile that would have passed for a smile on a bad day, then shifted his gaze to their intertwined hands. She stared at the ceiling.
"Stephaney?"
"Yes." He replied with a hint of humor. He already knew what Isabella was going to ask.
"What does Peter feed on?" she asked, almost laughing.
He laughed, "Food."
"You know what I mean."
"You're asking the wrong person."
She turned on her side and put all her weight on her arm. "Please?"
"I can't." his voice wasn't so pleasant. He played lightly with her fingers and held them gently, as if afraid his rough hand would pierce her.
"I won't let you do that.", I said, smiling down at him as I noticed how busy he was with her hand. For a second Isabella looked at the little boy who'd lost his parents, but that was only for a second. As quickly as he'd put down his gaze, he changed it again.
"I know Peterine loved me, but I wish I was her favorite." He said, his voice losing any sign of humor. "Do you know how hard I worked for her approval? Of course she'd agree, but..." he shook his head. "I wanted to be like Peter when I was growing up. Everyone looks up to their big brother, right?"
He asked in such a tone that she'd to reassure him. "Yes, we do."
"You know... I didn't know they were bad people. The wolves, I mean. I didn't even smell anything different. You probably think I got those in a fight, don't you?" he said, pointing his finger at his face.
Isabella nodded. The scars seemed even more noticeable.
"Well, I didn't." he said, as if he needed to prove himself to her. He didn't need to; she already trusted him with more than her safety. "They attacked me, kidnapped me, and ran off with me, and Pauline, overprotective fool that she was, came after me."
"I doubt a mother who wants her child safely back with her is a fool." She said honestly. "I know I'd have done the same."
"If I were your child?" he asked, amused. He gave her a smile she'd never seen on him before, and for a moment his pearly white face left her speechless.
When he cleared his throat, she realized she was staring and looked away, embarrassed.
"I..." Isabella had to pause and clear her throat again, she'd lost her voice it seemed. "I'm sorry, it's just that you're so..." again she was speechless as he smiled reassuringly at her, and for a moment she'd to wonder why she forgot to breathe when he smiled, and then she remembered that when he smiled he looked a lot like Peter.
Peter, would Isabella ever get used to the idea of having him in her life?
"Hmm," she heard his voice say. It was like being in the deepest part of the ocean.
She smiled. "You just remind me of someone." She finally said, feeling silly as she noticed his knowing look. "But no. I wouldn't have done the same thing only if you were my child. I'll still do the same, today, now."
He looked up at the ceiling again. His face grew serious. "She chased them into her territory, where they let me go and captured her instead. You know I tried. I even hit one of the guys, but he dismissed me like I was nothing."
"And then what happened?" she asked after a long, tense minute of silence.
"He pushed me into the dirt every time I tried to fight back. It made me angry. The anger drove me to rip my clothes. The minutes after that were a bit of a blur. I remember turning, I remember killing someone, but I don't know who."
"But..." she protested, "you were too young to turn."
"Yes, I know. I was seven." He said with what Isabella could only recognize as pride. "Mom was always praising me. I don't think any parent has ever been so proud. That was the last time I ever saw her. The last words she told me where to run."

"You're a hero," she ran her fingers over his scars. At first he flinched from my touch, but after a minute he was relaxed. His skin felt warm and smooth, as if he were a newborn baby.
He smiled. "You're trying to make me feel better."
"I'm not," she replied. "You'd to adjust so early," she told him, which he already knew. "Helping your mother..." she shook her head. "That takes courage."
"Oh, yes," he said challengingly. "Then tell me, if I'm a hero, where's my mother?"
"Some things in life happen for a reason none of us can understand."
"I just wish you weren't so considerate."
After that, they talked about random things. When Peter returned, he refused to be alone with her. Isabella knew he was avoiding her questioning. She found out that the girl who was with Phyllis was Erna, who left late that evening, about the same time Isabella left.
When Isabella got home, it was time for dinner and she skipped it. She couldn't risk Stephaney's scent being detected on her.
I went to bed early that night. Pauline and Stephan were the only thought going through her mind until she drifted into unconsciousness.
The next day, Isabella went to school with Callie. She dropped me off early and Isabella went for a morning run. She was a little hesitant to move, but the moment she saw Peter's face in my head, she relaxed.
Isabella ran for a while, and the feeling of the earth made her lose herself deeper in her wolf. She couldn't help smiling; the peace that this little action gave made her doubt herself. How had she gone almost years without feeling this way?
Isabella heard the first bell ringing in the distance and searched laboriously for her clothes.
She knocked lightly on the door and a small feminine voice said. "Come in."
Isabella walked in slowly, keeping her gaze glued to my feet. As soon as she was in sight, the whole class burst out laughing.
"Miss Wells." said Mrs. Dakin. "How nice of you to join us, but did you've to bring the whole forest with you?"
At this, the class laughed even louder. Isabella didn't dare look up. She didn't know what scared her more, Lee's laughter or his pity for her.
"What've you done to yourself?" Isabella heard a familiar squeak.
"I've been jogging." She said to Sue, who looked at her disapprovingly.
"Where?" She asked with mock interest.
"In the woods," Isabella said adamantly.
"Are you sure?" She asked in a whisper, but Isabella knew everyone in the room could hear her. "It doesn't look that way to me. It's the other way around."
"Please go and clean yourself up," said Mrs. Dakin. "I can't have leaves littering my class."
Mrs. Dakin was a pretty redhead. She was only four and a half inches tall and looked petite. That got worse when her husband was with her.
"Come, come." said Sue. "You . ." she let out a peal of laughter. " Your father mustn't see you like this."
"Mom, please." said Isabella.
"Don't push your luck." She said and pulled Isabella behind her.
Sue laughed so hard that some teachers whose classroom door they passed stuck their heads out with a disapproving look, but when they saw Isabella, they laughed even louder than Sue.
"Baby, you're a born comedienne," Sue clarified. "You even made Mr. Meanie laugh."
"Well, that's no surprise." said Isabella sarcastically. "I know, right?" she said, blowing Isabella off.
Isabella looked at herself in the mirror and squealed when she saw the girl looking back at her.
"Mom, I've mud all over my face."
"And you've it all over your legs and feet, and your hair is a nice chocolate color."
"Sue, you're not helping."
"I'm sorry."
"You might as well have called me sweaty." Isabella stared angrily at herself in the mirror.
"Believe me, I was tempted,...."
An hour later, Isabella went to class after begging Callie to bring a fresh pair of clothes.
Isabella went in with everyone else. It was third period and she'd a permanent smile on her face. She'd history with one of her favorite teachers, the older Jeffrina.