Copyright of Amara Ibeachum
No part of this work should be copied without the permission of the author.
Chapter 9
Stacey sat absent-mindedly, scooping multiple spoons of cereal in her mouth.
“Stacey, is everything alright? You seem spaced out,” asked Lydia, who was getting breakfast ready.
“What does my uncle look like, aunt Lydia?” Stacey asked with a mouthful of cereal.
“Well, he had a scar–” Lydia stopped as soon as she noticed the horrid star on Stacey’s face. “What is it?” She asked.
“I had this dream last night. A werewolf with a scar across his face was there too. He said he was going to kill me.”
“Hendricks! I need you down here,” Lydia called out.
It wasn’t long before Hendricks ran down the stairs; shirtless.
“Oh, god. Go put in a shirt, we have guests,” Lydia cautioned. She wasn’t fond of her brother’s occasional shirtlessness.
“What? I see nothing wrong with it. What do you think, Stacey?”
Stacey suddenly felt embarrassed by Hendricks’s question. “Um, you don’t look bad.”
“You see, sis, nothing,” he smiled proudly as he turned on the tap to get a glass of water.
Lydia chuckled, “Hendricks, I would love for you to train Stacey today. It seems as though her uncle would be coming here sooner than expected.”
“That should be after breakfast because I’m starving,” he winked at Stacey and left the two ladies in the kitchen.
“Have you seen Steve?” Stacey asked before Hendricks could disappear up the stairs.
“I think he’s out back,” his voice distant as he climbed the stairs.
Stacey turned to Lydia, she had a lot of questions but didn’t know how to go about them.
“I know that look. What is it?” Lydia leaned closely, giving Stacey an eager stare.
“I was just wondering if you were a werewolf too.”
“Well,” she sighed. “Yes, I am a werewolf but a weaker kind, more defiant. Our kind doesn’t abide by the laws of the wolves. Our kind is free thinkers, unlike don’tyour kind.”
“What about Hendricks? You guys look alike but he still calls you sis.”
“Well, Hendricks is my half-brother. Yeah, it’s complicated. I look like I could be his mother. My mom died and my dad had to remarry but they couldn’t have a child, so they had a witch help them have one.”
“So, Hendricks was born out of sorcery.”
“Yes, and they sure weren’t happy about it. My family was excommunicated from the pack.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. And the witch who helped my parents was your grandmother.”
Stacey’s eyes widened in an instant.
“My what?!”
Stacey went out in search of Steve out back as Hendricks said earlier. She saw him meddling with Lydia’s flowers.
“Hey, there, you missed breakfast,” she got his attention.
“I’m not hungry,” he gently put a flower back in a hole he dug, and covered the hole. “Did you know the oldest rose is a thousand years old and it shows on the wall of the Cathedral of Hildesheim in Germany?”
“Wow, I didn’t know you knew so much about roses,” she said in admiration.
“Well, there’s a lot about me you don’t know, Stacey,” he looked at Stacey with a soft smile.
Steve had never looked at Stacey that way before and Stacey began to wonder if maybe Aunt Lydia was right. Maybe Steve did like her and there was a possibility she liked him too.
Hendricks took Stacey to the woods to train as Lydia asked him to.
“So, why did you choose the woods?” Stacey asked, curious as they rustled through the leaves and broken branches.
“It covers more ground and theirs a less chance of collateral damage,” he grinds, “I think here seems like a good training spot, what do you think?”
Stacey scanned the spot.
“We’re deep in the forest,” she pointed out.
“Of course we are. This way, no one can hear you cry for help,” he gave Davey a sinister grin, lowering his body to the ground, supporting his frame with both hands and legs.
Stacey thought he messing around and tried to copy him. Hendricks smiled, knowing Stacey had no idea what was about to occur. He started to growl as his ears grew longer and straight. His body frame broadened, displaying a wide spread of fur around his body. He grew hinge legs and his face resembled that of a vicious dog, almost like the ones that appeared in her dreams but smaller.
“Ready for your training?” he snarled.
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