NOT EDITED! 

ENJOY!! (: 

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“Hilatu mikatu,” I muttered repeatedly, poising my hands over Beau’s palm. Inhaling deeply, I concentrated on the task at hand. I opened my eyes to look at Beau’s hand, groaning in disappointment. “Why can’t I get this right?”

I dropped my hands onto my thighs with a loud slap, throwing my head back in frustration.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Danny,” Beau encouraged. “Just try again.”

“You’re practically bleeding to death because of me,” I muttered pointedly, sighing when I saw Beau’s frightened face.

We were in the kitchen, practicing my healing abilities. Fourteen months of training and I still haven’t perfected my powers. Every time I tried, I would fail miserably while Beau’s wound would get worse with every attempt.

It would usually go like this: Beau would randomly train me. He’d take a knife and cut a small slash on his palm. Before it would heal due to his werewolf abilities, I’d start with what I was taught. I would recite the words, “hilatu mikatu” repeatedly with my eyes closed, trying to get in touch with nature. I don’t even know what language those two words were from, but I do know in English, it meant healing. When I’d open my eyes, Beau’s wound would be bigger, bleed more, or get deeper. Obviously, that was far from being healed.

That meant only one thing.

I failed.

And I kept failing.

“Just try again,” Beau urged again, looking at his bloody hand. “You’ll get it eventually.” 

“Are you sure? You just don’t want to stop now?” I asked, knitting my eyebrows in concern. He literally looked like he was in pain. Every time I’d ask him how it felt, he’d lie and say it didn’t feel like anything. However, I knew it was either stinging, burning, or aching.

“I’m fine. Let’s just continue,” Beau reassured, holding his bloody hand out to me. He wiped off blood with the third napkin he used today.

“Okay,” I said after a couple of seconds. I closed my eyes, poising my hand over his palm. Inhaling, I recited, “Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu …”

I opened my eyes and groaned once more. The wound was leaking out blood.

“Hilatu mikatu,” I concentrated. “Hilatu mikatu, hilatu mikatu, hilatu mikatu…”

I felt like crying when once again, it didn’t work. Banging my head onto the table, I whined. “I’m such a useless Healer!”

“You are not,” Beau scolded, wiping blood off his hand. “Never say a Healer is useless, even if you are talking about yourself.”

“How come I always fail? You got it in a few weeks, so how come it’s taking me so long?” I complained, getting mad at myself for constantly failing.

“You just need to find yourself,” Beau said. “Maybe it isn’t your time yet. You need to get in touch with nature. You need to put down the wall that’s between the both of you.”

“What the hell? How do you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Beau screamed back, frightened by my anger. He looked funny with his brown eyes widening and his shoulders going up. “I never had to go through that! I’m sorry.”

“I feel so stupid! You keep teaching me and I never learn from my mistakes! I’m sorry, Beau,” I said, tugging at my long brown hair.

“Come on,” Beau sighed, putting his hand in front of me. “Let’s try this one more time.”

“Fine,” I huffed, closing my eyes. I concentrated hard, calling out to nature. “Hilatu mikatu, hilatu mikatu, hilatu mikatu…”

Still bleeding.

“Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mikatu. Hilatu mik – “

“What the hell are you doing to Beau?” A male voice shouted, breaking my concentration.

I opened my eyes and groaned. Turning around to glare at the ginger, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why are you killing him?” Jet yelled at me, looking at Beau’s hand with wide eyes. Beau just smirked, amused by the situation. “And what the fuck are you saying? Is it some type of witchcraft? I’ve always known you were evil!”

“Gee, thanks Jet,” I replied sarcastically. “I was practicing my Healer abilities by the way.”

Jet’s eyebrows knitted together, scrutinizing Beau’s bloody hand and the three bloody napkins next to him. His eyebrows shot up before he looked at me. “Uh, you’re doing a great job, Danny!” He lied. Jet was always a bad liar. He threw a thumb up in my direction before heading out the door.

“Okay, let’s continue,” Beau encouraged, sticking his hand in front of me.

“I think we should take a break. I’m not feeling it anymore.”

“Danny, you’ll get it someday. I’m fine. If you want to practice some more, I’m more than willing to help you out.

“Beau, I’m not in the mood anymore,” I said disappointedly, avoiding his penetrating gaze. “I don’t want that wound to worsen especially with my added negativity.”

“Don’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m just taking a break. I’m sure I’d get it sooner or later,” I said, trying to convince him. It sounded like I was trying to convince myself as well.

“Okay. Well, I’m just going to clean this up and cook something. Do you want anything?”

I shook my head, getting up and walking up the stairs. I decided to ask Weston about what the hunters and rogues want as part of our investigation. After convincing Beau that I would be fine talking to Weston by myself, he gave in and agreed to the idea.

I was confident that Weston would share the information with me because we were on speaking terms. He always used to tell me things that dealt with werewolf business. Therefore, I decided to give it a shot and ask him.

“Weston,” I called when I knocked on his bedroom door. “It’s Danny!”

There was no response. I was sure he was home. His car was parked in the garage and he would have announced his departure, telling us to call him if anything went wrong.

“Weston,” I called again, knocking on the door continually.

When there was no response, I opened his bedroom door slowly. His scent crashed into me. Unintentionally, I let out a low moan. It was tidy and it was empty.

A king sized bed with white bed sheets was pushed up again one beige wall. A small leather couch and a single beanbag was situated in front of a hanging, flat screen television. The window across the room was draped with white curtains. Underneath the window was a desk with several papers scattered along the surface and a laptop in the middle. To the left were two doors that led to his bathroom and his closet.

 Before I could close the door and leave, something on his nightstand caught my eye. I walked in, shutting the door behind me and walking over to the picture frame. I scrutinized it with my eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

In the middle of the black, intricate border was a picture of Weston and me. My arms were around his neck, hugging him from behind. My smile was wide as he kissed me on the cheek. We were messing around and Jade decided to take a picture of us with her DSLR camera.

I was beyond confused.

Why did he have our photo on his nightstand? Doesn’t Hayley come in here? Has she seen this photo? What the hell was that foul smell?

I scrunched up my nose when I caught a slight trace of something tainted. If I were a regular werewolf, I wouldn’t have caught the scent. Being a Healer, everything was heightened.

Why did it smell so familiar?

I decided to take a big inhale of the air around me. Despite Weston’s delicious scent, that slight trace was disturbing. My wolf was prancing around me. Before I knew it, my feet were moving around the room while I tried to find out where it was coming from.

I knew it was wrong snooping around Weston’s stuff, but the scent was bugging me.

I bet down near Weston’s bed where the scent was much stronger. I resisted the urge to gag. Looking under his bed, I saw something wrapped in a bunch of Weston’s clothes. I pulled out the pile of clothes and put it in front of me.

When Weston’s clothes were in a neat pile next to me, a huge black box was facing me. The smell was stronger now, causing my eyes to water at it’s stench. I opened the box slowly.

Then I threw it across the room, staring at it with horror-stricken eyes. My hand was trembling as I brought it up to cover my open mouth.

Why did Weston have a rifle, a case of a hundred wolfs bane-laced bullets, and a wolfs bane laced spear?

Before I could hide any evidence that I was there and run out as quickly as possible, the door opened. Weston stood before me, observing the weapons in the corner.

“Danny,” Weston asks cautiously, looking at me with intense eyes. “What are you doing in my room?”