Eight

"I am a werewolf, Chaerin."

She started, her eyes widening, trying to intake her new surroundings, but recognition crept in her eyes - she was in her room. Dazed, she shook her head, wondering if everything had been a part of some twisted dream of hers.

A shower told her otherwise, the mark on her shoulder and leg far from vanished. A dainty finger traced the outline on her shoulder and she hoped it wouldn’t scar.

She relaxed in her backyard, lying flat on the grass, attempting to sort out what she knew. Werewolves existed and Kris was one of them. She had been targeted due to misled anger and a misunderstanding. There were twelve in his pack - she didn’t even want to bother with how many more roamed the campus in disguise.

This area was inhabited by werewolves from long ago, they agreed to a truce, branded the area as a zone of neutrality, and here they were now. The boys did keep to the pact, however, they created a region specifically for resolving issues in any manner they thought best. She shuddered; she would do well to avoid that.

And then, there was the matter of the missing Baekho. Not to mention Kris desired to cut her off, which he decided without hesitation, she mulled begrudgingly. Chaerin grunted, these matters seemed to be infinite.

They were never her burdens to shoulder to begin with. 

“What am I doing?”

Her return to her studies was mediocre at best; she couldn’t prevent the idea of a new otherworldly species actually existing from the recesses of her mind. Bom and Sandara held back from interrogating the poor girl, the bags under her eyes a great indication she was weighing a lot of things on her weary noggin.

Although, Chaerin did manage to pull back her lips into a slight smile after being merged into a group for a presentation in her Child and Adolescent Studies class; she was quite relieved she landed Sandara. Until, of course, Sandara latched onto her, far too anxious to be left with her ‘scary partner’ any longer. With a graceful roll of her eyes, she allowed her close friend to chat up a storm along her freshman associate.

Silently, she accompanied Sandara’s partner, sitting down beside him. They poured through documents, hands searching, plucking, highlighters ready. They continued to work in a soundless environment, and she snuck a glance, curiosity having seized her.

He had a sturdy build, his hair a shocking blond that came down in layers over his forehead, slightly covering the tip of his right eye; his face seemed to be a bit squared off, his lips plump, his eyes narrow. The young man next to her also exuded charisma, surely to be the reason Sandara scurried when she did.

Let the adventure begin, she thought dryly.

Sandara cooed to her, fixing her tousled hair, bombarding her with questions after having finally met him. Chaerin huffed. “We didn’t even introduce ourselves. As far as I know, he’s harmless. I still don’t think he screams pain and misery, though.”

Sandara pouted. “But he does! I get dark vibes from him, Chae. Creeps me out.”

She settled for sighing, collecting her things as they were dismissed. Her eyes grazed the cover of a dented black notebook, she frowned. It wasn’t her’s and certainly not Sandara’s. Oh, it had to belong to-

“Dara,” Chaerin called to her bustling friend. “Did you see what direction your partner headed in? He forgot his notebook, actually, I think he might have mine.”

“Oh, just your luck, Chae! But, I think he took a left at the door.”

She had forgotten the classes nearby were full to the brim with hundreds of students, her body having to roughly shove her way through. At one point, she thought she glimpsed his bright blonde mess of locks, but this one was taller, his hair in curls.

Steeling her nerves, she delved farther into the crowd, the lack of blond hair the only factor in halting her actions fifteen minutes later. She lost him and she was stuck with his notebook until the next time they met for class.

Peeved, she weaved her way around the crowd, hurrying to get to her beloved haven that was the library.

A gasp fell from her lips as her arm was tugged, she stumbled back. The one who held a tight grip on her arm was young, ears pierced, eyes bulging, his hair brown, the sides shaved. Her anger ignited, she pried at his hand latched onto her arm. What was this guy’s deal?
“Let go-“

“Where is he?” She had to stop, process his sudden inquiry.

Her voice strained, “What?” He had the gall to ask her questions after rudely touching her, she bristled.

“Please, you’re our only link to him. Do you know where he is?”

Chaerin snapped, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Let go of me!”

He persisted, his grip squeezing her. “Baekho. Do you know what's happened to him?”

The name had her confronting his despondent gaze, his brown irises pleading with her to tell him everything she knew. Stunned, she almost spoke, till Kris emerged in her thoughts, warning keep her to isolate herself from affairs she had no business immersing herself in. She had to shut up to survive, to return to the norm, and yet, as she peered into the man’s eyes before her, she found she couldn’t remain silent.

Baekho needed help, didn’t he?

Swarmed with conflicting emotions, she pulled away, her head gradually shaking, refusing to acknowledge any connection with him. His face fell, worry etched deep into his features; he leaned in close to her.

“Then why do you smell like him?”

Jaw unhinged, she turned away, and dispersed into the crowd of her peers. 

She never left his sight, his gaze trained on her. He pivoted, his new objective to find his group members and reveal his discovery.

Her library hadn’t been much of a sanctuary lately, in fact, it was the center for disaster to strike. It was times like these she realized she should have argued for earlier hours. She had been rearranging documents for the incoming computers while wrestling with the words the young guy spouted earlier, when she heard the door slide open softly.

Mr. Lee, she noted dissatisfied, was in for the day, he was, however, off hunting for a snack at this exact hour. Fighting the urge to retreat, she crossed her arms, a thick book tightly clenched in her left hook.

He arrived before her, with a crew this time around, his figure hidden behind the others that outranked him, she presumed. Irked, she couldn’t bring herself to politely ask them if they needed assistance.

She had her focus drawn to the young lad in the front, the leader it seemed, his boys standing behind him. Causally, he approached her, his steps slow, in no rush. In turn, she took a wary step back; she had learned enough from previous encounters not to trust anyone blindly.

He kept a mindful distance, his head hung low.

“Do you know where he is?”

Stubborn as they came, she bit her lip, rejecting to answer.

“This is bull, JR. We aren’t going to get anywhere this way! Why are we giving her the freedom to answer as she pleases?!” One of his fellow members exploded, his eyes seething, contrasting against his angelic image – his curled platinum blond strands dangling about his face as he reared his heated face towards them.

‘JR’ jutted his chin at the tallest in their bunch, a signal to restrain the awfully pretty fellow. The tallest boy clamped his hand around the blond’s mouth, dragging his torso outside to avoid further disruption.

JR turned his wearisome gaze upon her, his plea just as soft and gentle as he first began. “Our friend is missing and he has been for quite some time now. You’re the only connection we have to him so far. Will you please help us?” It chilled her to feel that if she said nothing on the issue now, she would be haunted by his words until the end of her days. 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry-“

His boy that hung in the back burst forth, threw himself in front of her, his hands pressing against the slick floor, his head bowed. “Please, please tell us what you know. We just want our friend back. God, he could be dying. He’s in a fragile state, he doesn’t comprehend the changes he’s going through. I’m begging you, please.” His voice cracked, he didn’t falter. “He must be so scared right now and it’s all my fault. Help us. Help us.”

“I assure you we don’t mean you any harm. We just need your information, we won’t be invading your life.” JR threw in; it was odd, his voice light, his face boyish, and nevertheless he stood a leader.

Chaerin shut her eyes, heaved a deep sigh, and relented. “Don’t involve me any further, alright?” She waved her book in front of the pair, threatening to beat them down in case they did.

JR ordered the return of his other members; they sat in a half-circle, facing her like little children, waiting to be instructed. She recounted all of the incidents involved with Baekho, albeit altered. She omitted his true identity, she wasn’t sure she could trust that secret to them; she knew her life hung in the balance.

He was kept human, one who had gone insane, chased her, and physically harmed her. Her life was saved and that was the last she saw of him, she concluded.

They were brisk in their thanks, in their stride with a lead to finally go off of.

She was almost rid of them except for one – the diva in all his glory. The feisty, undisputed stare-down champ back home refused to be intimidated by his glare. That was prior to the split second his eyes flickered a pale-green and left her slack-jawed.
Astonishment pooled in her eyes having identified the familiar hue and his presence vanished before she could be certain his eyes had been green.

JR rose an inquisitive eyebrow at Ren as he arrived.

“She knows more than she’s letting on.”

JR rubbed the increasing throbbing in his head. “And she’s been marked.” He glanced at them, thoughts full-speed. “Aron.”

Aron snapped out of his daze, “Yes?”

“You’re in charge of her safety until Baekho resumes responsibility.”

If he still could.