Marks and Scars

Not My Luna

I stood in the middle of the adjoining bathroom considering my options. I'd spent the first five minutes staring into the mirror, dumbfounded by my reflection.

Have I really looked like this all morning?

Who on earth would what want to make out - much less do the deed- while I look like that?

It was beginning to look like I had no choice but to take a shower. My hair was far from salvageable. On a good day, it was long, straight, and brown. Plain and soft - not the greasy, unkempt mess it had become after the scuffle with Vanessa. Most of my right cheek was covered in dried blood and dirt. The bruises on my nose hadn't come in yet, but they wouldn't be pretty either. And to top it all of? The dark rings beneath my eyes (that my mom claimed were hereditary) were especially dark. That was most likely due to the alcohol, though.

I'll take a shower... I finally decided it. A quick one.

I turned on the shower, then hunted down a towel while the water warmed up. I grabbed one from the stack of folded towels in the linen closet right next to the shower stall. I stripped off my dirty clothes. The blue jeans were stained black in most places, and the light gray top I'd been wearing was in even worse shape with some tears on the back of it.

Washing my hair ended up being a challenge. Most of my scalp was tender. The hot water stung both the back of my head and my face, but I persisted, gently washing away the blood and grime.

I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried my body with the towel, before twisting it up with my hair. I looked in the mirror again, reassessing my appearance. Most of the blood had washed off and my face didn't look nearly so beat up. The scrapes were shallow and most of them had already scabbed over. Some of them even blended in with the dusting of freckles across my nose and cheeks - if you didn't look too close. Even the circles under my eyes appeared lighter, and my irises were refreshed, looking a little bluer.

Having no other choice, I slipped the same underwear and bra back on, and walked to the back of the bathroom where another, larger closet was. This one was filled with clothes - but they were all mens sizes. Large, plain black or white t-shirts and gray sweatpants - all huge.

I had no other choice but to pull my dirty jeans back on. I borrowed one of the black t-shirts, unable to convince myself that I could re-wear my top from the night before. The t-shirt nearly reached my knees, and the sleeves fell just past my elbows, but at least it was in one piece.

I hung the towel on the back of the door, and went back into the bedroom. My wet hair swung down past the middle of my back. Water dripped from it, droplets falling from my split ends to the hardwood floor beneath my feet, leaving a small trail.

Curious, I tried turning the knob of the bedroom door. I hesitated for a second before pulling the door open far enough that I could stick my head out.

All I saw was an empty hallway, with doors identical to mine every few feet. The hallway was long, and at the far end I thought I could see two set of stairs; one that went up and another that led down.

I jumped when I heard a shuffling of feet to my left. I moved my eyes quickly, only to find a tall, lanky man around my age leaning against the wall, facing me. His shaggy blonde hair contrasted sharply with the black beanie he wore. The beanie, in turn, clashed with his neon blue t-shirt and lime green board shorts. He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets and looked as if he weren't sure he should say anything.

I was frozen, sizing him up, wondering if he was also a werewolf. I assumed that everyone here was.

"Alpha doesn't want you to leave the room until he gets back," he finally said, his voice low but respectful.

I just stared at him, still frozen.

"He'll be back soon," the guy repeated, misreading my expression.

I nodded once, and pulled my head back into the room, closing the door gently. Was that guy stationed at my door? Like a guard? Why did I need a guard? So I wouldn't run away? Or...

Vanessa.

I scowled, brushing the thought from my mind, and walked back to the doors that led to the balcony. I couldn't see any wolves on the beach anymore. I craned my neck, searching. The grounds around the house appeared empty. Not a soul in sight.

I picked my phone up from the bed, where I'd laid it, growing bored.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before Jeremy did reappear. I stood up when he entered. His face changed when he saw me - iciness melting away to something warmer.

"Are you hungry?" he asked me.

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled angrily, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the night before. Jeremy smirked, and held the door open, waving me forward with his arm. I walked under the arm holding the door, and Jeremy turned to follow, close behind me. He then led me past the guy posted at my door. I noticed that a few steps after we'd passed him, he pushed away from the wall and followed us. I glanced at him over my shoulder, but he didn't say anything.

"Don't mind Trevor," Jeremy whispered quietly. "He's a friend, he's just making sure that no one messes with you while you're here."

I frowned, not really responding. I hadn't considered the possibility that anyone - other than Vanessa, maybe - would try and mess with me at all. Jeremy led the way to the stairs at the far end of the hall. We took the staircase leading down. The stairs opened up to a good sized foyer. The foyer opened up on either side to two rooms. The first room was a large living area, with a television, grand fireplace, and even a sun room. The other looked like a library. The walls were lined with shelves, packed full of books, and there were several sofas and chairs in the center.

Jeremy guided me down a hallway behind the staircase. It led toward the back of the house. It was shorter than the hallway upstairs, but it too was lined with doors. At the end of the hallway was the entrance to a kitchen large enough for both spacious counters, a large island with bar stools, and an even larger wooden table.

I'd frozen in the entryway to the kitchen. A large number of people were gathered around the table, eating sandwiches from a platter in the middle. They all stopped eating when Jeremy entered. Some of the men stood, nodding their heads in some sort of salute. Jeremy waved his hand at them and they returned to their seats.

Still, they were all quiet. Some of them stared not-so-discreetly in my direction.

I suddenly felt like prey, and the urge to run away overwhelmed me. Behind me, my "bodyguard," Trevor, gently pushed me forward, his hand resting on my shoulder. He forced my feet back into motion, and I followed Jeremy over to the stools gathered around the island. Jeremy turned to make sure I'd followed. His eyes quickly narrowed, and before I could even wonder why, Trevor's hand quickly disappeared from my shoulder. I could sense him take a good two steps back.

Satisfied, Jeremy went to the counter where there were another two platters full of sandwiches, and removed the plastic wrap from one of them, setting two sandwiches on a paper plate.

All the while, I could still feel cold stares on me. They tickled the skin on my back and neck. What was worse, I couldn't tell what kind they were, and I didn't want to look long enough to study them. Were they just confused? Were they surprised? Hostile?

Jeremy set the plate down and pulled out the stool nearest to me, starring at me gently. I sat down, and he slid onto the stool next to mine. He picked up one of the sandwiches, then slid the plate over to me.

"Thanks," I murmured, and I picked up the remaining sandwich. I bit into the fluffy white bread, delighted to discover it was peanut butter and jelly.

"Aren't humans allergic to peanuts?" someone whispered from the table.

My ears perked up and I froze.

"Maybe she'll swell up and just keel over. Problem solved," another voice laughed.

My muscles tensed, and I took another bite of my sandwich, trying to swallow the embarrassment along with it.

Jeremy, on the other hand, let loose a low growl that filled the entire kitchen.

"That means, shut up," Trevor called from the entrance to the kitchen where he'd taken up a post against the wall. "If you know what's good for you, anyway."

I chanced a look at the table full of werewolves behind me. Most of them had their eyes on their plates, but a few were looking at Trevor, annoyed.

"Or what?" a woman asked indignantly. "Or we end up like Nessa? Collared down in the basement?"

Trevor laughed. "Vanessa isn't in the basement yet, Ella. She's still in the infirmary."

Infirmary?

I looked at this Ella, who was baring her teeth at Trevor. Her brown hair fell in soft waves just past her shoulders, and her fair skin was blemish-less.

"The infirmary?" She snarled. Her glare turned on me. I fought not to flinch at the familiarity of her piercing green eyes. My money was on the fact that she was related to Vanessa. Sisters. Maybe cousins. "What the hell did that human do to Nessa that she's in the infirmary?"

Jeremy pounded his first on the island, making the plate, and me, jump.

"Vanessa is in the infirmary because she attacked my mate," Jeremy spoke low, his voice sounding more like a growl than anything. "Your Luna."

I froze at the term Luna, glancing briefly up at Jeremy and back to the table. Ella and a few others at the table scoffed, looking at me skeptically.

"She's a human," Ella spat out. "She shouldn't even be here. It's against pack rules."

"Get out," Jeremy told her, his words a clear warning.

"She can't be your mate," Ella continued, ignoring him.

"Ella..." one of the men at the table stood up, trying to pull Ella away. She jerked her arm away from his hands.

"We are forbidden from mating with humans. It destroys us. She can't be your mate."

"Usually, yes." Another woman at the table spoke up. I couldn't see her face - she had her back to me, but she pushed her long black hair behind her shoulder as she spoke. "But if the moon goddess arranged it, their must be a reason, Ella. To every rule, there is an exception."

"She's still just a human," Ella repeated, her words dripping with disgust. "And she'll certainly never be my Luna."

"I said GET OUT. Before you end up collared in the basement," Jeremy roared, loud and viciously enough that fear blossomed in my chest, even though I was the one he was defending.

Ella pushed her chair back in with her foot, slamming it against the table, and stamped toward the entryway. She paused just at the threshold, her hand on the white trim framing the entrance. "Did you ever consider that this is a trick?" she called, not turning around or even facing the room. "...To make us weak. It could be the witches. Or another pack. Or even an alliance between the two..."

She said nothing else. In the next breath, she was gone. A few seconds later, I heard a door open and slam shut.

"If any of you agree with Ella, please leave." Jeremy, who hadn't stopped growling yet, called over to the table.

After a few seconds, four more people stood up and departed.

The rest of the group at the table, fifteen or so, all took turns staring at me. They still seemed skeptical, but they didn't leave. I turned my eyes back to Jeremy. He met my gaze and it softened once more.

"Witches?" I mouthed, silently.

He nodded, a simple yes.

My eyes widened and my thoughts ran wild.

What about vampires?

I kept that thought to myself as I carefully set my half eaten sandwich back on the paper plate. Jeremy watched me, his eyebrows furrowed. I had suddenly lost my appetite.

Jeremy scarfed down the rest of his sandwich and stood, taking my hand and leading me out of the kitchen.

"Wait," I called, when I saw he was heading back to the stairs. He stopped and turned to look at me. "I need to go home," I reminded him.

He frowned again. "I still don't understand why you think you have to," he complained, raking a hand through his jet black hair.

"I have a life, you know," I said, for what must have been the third time.

Jeremy frowned while nodding. "Okay," he finally relented. "Come on, I'll take you home." He looked over to Trevor, who had been standing just behind us. "Trev, you take the Ram and follow us."

Jeremy turned and walked me to the front door. We stepped outside. His black Jeep was parked closest to the front door, in the middle of the U shaped driveway. I slid into the passenger side, spotting my coat and bag from the night before. When I turned and looked out the window, I got a good look at the house. It was larger than I'd realized.

"This is really the main pack house," Jeremy explained when he noticed what I was staring at. "It's where I've been staying since I was made Alpha. Some of the pack stay here too, others have houses in the neighborhood."

"How long have you been Alpha," I asked, also wondering for the first time how old he was. He didn't look like he was much older than late twenties, early thirties. I wondered if werewolves even aged normally.

"It's been six years now," he answered.

Jeremy soon had the Jeep on the only road leading off of Tybee Island. Marsh surrounded both sides of the road. I didn't understand how people could live on Tybee. Whenever the tide came in higher than usual, or it rained too much, the marsh flooded and water covered the roadway, leaving no way off of Tybee. 

I sat in silence, absorbing the day's revelations as I stared out my window. Outside the Jeep, the view changed from marsh to solid ground, and then into neighborhoods and businesses. Jeremy didn't say anything else either, and we sat in comfortable silence.