Page 33 of Lycan’s Hunt

Chapter 14

• Aubrey •

My stomach twists. I know it’s only a matter of time before Soren finds out if he hasn’t already. What must he think of me? How could I have been so careless?

I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling as I type a message to Soren. I know what I need to do, even if it tears my heart apart.

Please don’t hate me. I wish I could have explained what I wanted to. But I can’t do this anymore and now it’s hurting you and Max. We need to cancel the engagement though I know you would have by now. I am sorry.

I hit send before I can change my mind, the weight of finality heavy inside me. Almost instantly, my phone rings, Soren’s name flashing on the screen. I let it ring out before sending another message.

I will have your car sent back, don’t worry I am not stealing it.

With a heavy heart, I switch my phone off, cutting myself off from the world outside. Silence envelops me, but it doesn’t bring the comfort I hoped for.

As the news continues in the background, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to fend off the chill creeping into my bones. I know I’ve made the right choice, the decision weighing on my heart. I can only hope Soren will understand and eventually see the truth behind the lies. For now, all I can do is wait and see if any part of my life can be salvaged. After a lingering glance at my mother, I quietly retreat down the hallway. My eyes are drawn to a door at the end, slightly ajar. It was a room I have avoided since arriving here—my sister’s room. With a deep breath, I push open the door.

The room is untouched, frozen in time like an exhibit in a museum dedicated to a childhood lost too soon. The walls are painted in soft pastels, adorned with posters of long-forgotten cartoons and sketches of wildflowers that my sister loved to draw. My heart aches as I take in the neatly made bed with pink sheets and the array of stuffed animals perched on top, their glassy eyes staring back at me.

I step farther inside, my gaze landing on my sister’s desk against the wall, cluttered with textbooks and notebooks filled with drawings—each page a snapshot of her imagination, abruptly halted by fate’s cruel hand. I can all but hear her laughter echoing within these four walls, a sweet sound that feels like a distant memory.

I gingerly pick up a porcelain doll from the desk; it was her favorite. I remember how we used to play together for hours. Holding it now feels like holding onto a piece of her, a fragile reminder of the bond we shared, one only sisters can share. Sisters are your first friend, when I lost her, I lost my best friend. I lost my parents who were never the same.

“Aubrey? What are you doing in here?” My mothers voice soft, but I can hear the tension beneath it as her bottom lip trembles, choking on emotion.

“I… I was just looking,” I stammer, unable to meet her gaze, “Mom, why did you stop talking to Grandma?”

A heavy silence falls between us. I finally look up, and the sadness etched on her face makes my heart clench.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, sweetheart,” she says, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

I struggle to remember, when memory surfaces – bright and vivid. “We were at Grandma’s house. Me and Brielle, on our bikes…”

Mom nods, her eyes glistening. “You were eleven.”

The scene unfolds in my mind like a forgotten photograph coming into focus. There we are, me and my sister, our smiles as wide as the summer sky above Granny’s house. We sat astride our bikes, hers was bubblegum pink, mine cobalt blue, both gleaming beneath the sun. That same bike became the instrument of unspeakable loss on the day she never came home.

I swallow hard, fighting back tears. “I remember how excited we were that day.” Mom reaches out, taking my hand in hers.

“I want to understand.” The memory of that day is a wound that time refuses to heal.

Grandma was on the porch, watching us. Brielle and I were chasing each other, laughing. Grandma’s flower-print dress fluttered in the breeze, her hand shading her eyes as she watches us. Brielle’s pigtails bounced as she pedaled furiously, always just out of my reach. We were so happy. And then…

The screeching of tires is loud but not as loud as Grandma’s scream which pierces the air, followed by a sickening bang. I spin around, seeing Grandma running toward us, her face contorted in horror. Brielle… where was Brielle?

I couldn’t see her at first. People were running out of their houses, and then... oh God.

My sister, my beautiful, vibrant sister, lying on the road. Her legs twisted grotesquely around her bike. Her golden hair fanned out on the asphalt. I rush to her side, my heart pounding.

“Brielle?” I sob, falling to my knees and grasping her hand. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter open. “Aubrey, it hurts. It hurts.” she wails. “Why can’t I move?” My gaze moves over her body; blood covers the ground, and her eyes shut.

“I’m scared,” she whispers.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady as my childlike mind doesn’t understand what is happening.