Slaves of the Night

Chapter 1: Strenuous Relationships:

  So many people want after things they cannot have. Now most people would just long for them from a distances, gazing adoringly and thinking that their fantasy world would come true. Others will go to extraordinary lengths to succeed in getting whatever they want, no matter the consequences. But what truly happens when you have everything you ever really wanted? And someone else's desire is to take all of that away from you?

  A frustrated scream escaped from my lips as I slammed the door behind me. My hand clenched the door handle so tightly that my grip was becoming slick on the metal. I ground my teeth together before forcing myself to release my hold.

  Every day of the week. Each and every one. When would there be a time that Tristan Everdeen wouldn't annoy me to no end? He was probably in that office of his, glaring at the door as if that would make me change my mind. The hallway seemed so quiet now after the loudness of our very vocal argument. I knew that a good amount of people had overheard us, but this had been happening so frequently that I doubt they bothered to look up from what they were doing anymore. Our arguments were more often than a day with a cloud in the sky and always ended with the overwhelmingly tense atmosphere.

  I walked down the hall, dragging a hand through my hair as I tried to stomp my anguish out into the wood floors. The feeling of the air-conditioned flooring against my heated skin reminded me that I was barefoot. Barefoot and wearing nothing but shorts and a light tank top. The month of May had gotten so hot that it was almost unbearable. Most of the pack escaped the heat by dressing in as little as possible, leaving everyone only barely decent. A year ago I would have still thought the weather was mild and temperate, but when your body ran hotter than healthy it was understandable why you sweated buckets when outside.

  Teeth still in gridlock, I swooped into the kitchen, stealing a package of Hostess snack cakes from the cupboards. The coast was clear so far which was lucky because I would've either been left hungry from avoiding the kitchen or overfed by Tristan's mother in attempt to get me to talk through my problems with her. Not that I didn't like the woman--I loved her in fact. She was the best mother figure I had had since my own mom passed away and all that she had done from me couldn't be repaid with any amount of money. But during the times when I wanted nothing more than to punch holes in the walls, the idea of talking through my problems only grated my nerves.

  Snatching my backpack from the counter where I had discarded it earlier, I calmed my walk to a dull thud in order to go upstairs. With keen hearing I heard a small crash from downstairs, no doubt from Tristan throwing something at the floor. It's not that this had been a particular huge fight, but it hadn't been small either.

  Fights between us ranged from mild discussions on our impending graduation to large throw-the-random-lamp-across-the-room-in-rage screaming matches about our view on how each other behaves. Today could be described as moderately intolerable because it involved the fact that I had been sent another letter of acceptance from a university I had applied to earlier this year. Our positions on the subject were so disjointed and fuzzy that I wasn't sure if I had been the wanting to go or not. The fighting seemed pointless in retrospect but our personalities both demanded a win in the endless argument and I doubted either of us ever would.

  I flung my bag to the bed in my room--well technically it was Tristan's but it had grown to be both of ours. I hadn't really had a room in this house besides the one I had stayed in when healing up from the raid over the winter. I winced at the thought and locked the door behind me. The last thing I needed was Tristan to come walking in and prod the fight back into full existence. I just needed the time to calm down and straighten my thoughts back into order. After a brief moment of closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I stripped and headed to the shower. I turned the water to the coldest setting possible and let it wash over me to release the tension the heat had over me.

  By the time I left the shower, nearly cool enough to be considered normal, it was like the fight had never happened. I calmly dressed in a outfit near identical to the one I had worn before and stood undecided in the middle of the room. Only an hour had passed and I knew that Tristan simmered after an argument longer than I usually did. Going back downstairs would only bring my blood pressure back up. A pleasantly warm breeze whisked in from the cracked open window, making the cold crispness of my hair even sweeter.

  My backpack chose that moment to give out and flop off the edge of the bed where it had been hanging precariously from. All the papers from end of the year assignments and random textbooks tumbled onto the floor and scattered everywhere. In the midst of all the dull neutral colors blazed the crimson color of another envelope that I dreaded every time it fell into my hands. Earlier in the day, I had found it lying on the top shelf of my locker, resting innocently with my name on it. He always left them in my locker in exactly the same place; more of a signature than a swoop of a pen ever could be. How he got them there amazed me considering the number of pack members that collectively went to my high school. He managed to come and go as he pleased while avoiding all of their heightened senses, passing completely under their radar.

  I snatched the offending parchment off the floor before I could forget it and instinctively grabbed the lighter off the top of the dresser. Opening the window wide, I crawled out onto the secluded rooftop. The window nestled nicely into a corner of the frame of the house so that it provided a backrest and concealed anyone up there from most wandering eyes. Silently I closed the window behind me and sat cross-legged with the envelope clasped between my hands.

  It represented terror. It represented a crazed obsession. It represented struggle. All summed up into a tiny rectangular envelope with my name simply printed onto the front of it. They showed up sporadically, sometimes going months without a single appearance and others coming weekly, just like Ian's behavior.

  Chills traveled up my spine despite the heat as I remembered the ambush Ian Redwood had issued on the Mooncreak pack in an attempt to kidnap me. The reason must have made sense in his mind because I somehow reminded him of his mate who had died. But the memory of her had become twisted and mutated until all he could do was latch onto me as his obsession. I wasn't even a full wolf. I had been human only a mere five months ago and four before that in a blissful peace of not knowing what really lurked in the forest that surrounded the whole town.

  My tank top had rode up slightly, revealing the edge of a ragged scar that extended all the way up my stomach and across four times. Time had not healed the wounds and I was left with the permanent affliction on my skin after his failed attempt on Tristan's life and my kidnapping. Winter seemed so long ago and yet so close.

  With a hitched breath, I quickly sliced my finger underneath the flap of the envelope to open the seal. The letter made barely a whisper as I opened it to make out the beautifully scripted words on the page. I had to give Ian props for having extremely good handwriting or knowing someone who did and was willing to write for him. It started like it always did, the simple two words that could be listed on any letter properly addressed to me. But the way that the words were written, laced with emotion, made my reading hitch to a stop.

  Dear Samantha,

  That was all I could take before I quickly tore the whole thing up in spite. The pieces fluttered won to the rooftop, catching on the rough shingles before they could slide off the edge. After it was nothing more than shreds of white and red, I grabbed the lighter from my back pocket.

  Slowly I took each piece and held it to the flame that sputtered from the cheap cigarette lighter. They caught fire and burnt orange before my eyes. I snubbed out each flame before they could burn my fingertips and watched the ashes and smoke raise daintily into the air. Ian's words and actions had already burnt me enough. I just wanted to burn him back in the only way I knew possible at the moment. I wish he could see me not even bothering to read what he had written for me, watch the rage build in his eyes so I could make him feel something other than obsession for me. Something horribly close to hatred like I felt for him.

  It took a long time for the whole letter to be reduced to nothing and darkness slowly settled around me. By the time there wasn't any remanence of his attempt to contact me, I was too tired and mentally exhausted to do anything but stare as the stars came out. The sharp sting of something hitting my face was what drew me out of my mind. Crickets creaked in the woods and the half lit moon only gave me a little bit of sight as I peered onto the roof around me.

  Another projectile hit me on the arm this time, leaving a sharp stinging sensation. Quickly I sat up to listen more intently for whoever was out there. One time was normal, but twice was too good to be a coincidence especially since there weren't any trees directly above the house able to drop seeds down from.

  "Sam..."

  The whisper came up from the ground level up towards me and my ears recognized the voice instantly. I relaxed back into my sitting position up against the wall and sighed. Tristan was the only person who knew I came up here at all, not that he knew exactly what for because I hadn't told him about the letters yet. If he heard about them all the fights we had had previous would seem like simple discussions about the weather.

  Another ping hit the window hear my head and was chased by a louder call, "Sam!"

  His voice was a growl, which made me realize that he had been doing this for a little longer than when he had stirred me from my daze.

  "What?" I spoke just above a whisper, knowing full well that he could hear me. The assault of the tiny rocks paused.

  "Just come down," he said in a voice so warm and welcoming in the darkness. Despite his obvious order, I still relaxed at the sound of his voice. For some reason it always brought some degree of comfort to me.

  "Why? I'm fine up here," I stated, shifting my position a little to relieve the numbness that settled into my butt and legs. I knew I was lying a bit as I realized just how many bug bites I had probably amassed and could feel the dampness of sweat that made my clothes cling to me. All in all, it wasn't that great up here at the moment.

  "Just come down," he sighed in frustration.

  "Why are you even throwing rocks at me? Can't you be a normal person and just open the window from the window instead of pelting my face with little projectiles?" I muttered, lying down with my head near the edge of the roof near the rim of the gutter. Luckily it was clean because my hair would have not have fared well with pieces of rotten leaves.

  "Because normal people don't get locked out of their own rooms, to get to their windows, to retrieve their crazy girlfriends," he shot back, and I sighed again. I peered further over the edge and caught his eyes with mine. He was in simple khakis and a nicely fitted shirt, both of which were different that what he had been wearing earlier. His hair also didn't look like it had been run through half a million times with his hand from stress. Definitely a sign of getting to clean up.

  "Yeah, right. If you couldn't get back into your room, then how did you manage to get your clothes and take a shower, Sherlock? I know you well enough to know you can unlock this door from the outside by now," I scoffed, eyes narrowing but a small smiling threatening to dance on my lips as I gazed down at him. It was oddly satisfying to be able to look down at him the way he could always do with me. Sure the proportions were a little off with me being a whole story higher and all, but the sentiment still stood. But of course he had to ruin my moment with his rude sarcasm.

  "Fine, if you don't want to come down and figure out what I have planned, that's fine by me!" he said with a toss of his hands in the hair and a swift turn around before walking away.

  I paused for a moment to consider my options before begrudgingly getting up to climb back through the window. Despite my best efforts to stay nonchalant, my pace quickened as I took the stairs two at a time in order to ebb my never ending curiosity.