Charlotte's left arm seared with pain, forcing a choked sob from her throat. The teeth marks were visible underneath the blood, evidence of what had just happened refusing to hide itself. She held her arm close to her body, not caring about ruining her t-shirt even though it was one of her favourites. The blood made a stark contrast against the blue cotton material, but Charlotte was too distraught to pay attention.
Why had she been so stupid? Why had she thought tonight of all nights was a good idea to sneak out of the house? It had been a spur of the moment decision, fuelled by her mother's insistence that she stay out of the family meeting tonight. She'd heard the same lecture one too many times and tonight had been the final straw. After her mother had closed the door she had given herself twenty minutes to sulk before remembering that she had mastered the art of climbing down the tree outside her window years ago.
A few minutes later she had landed safely on the flowerbed outside, managing to keep hidden from the adults gathering in the family room only a few feet away. Charlotte didn't have a plan as she crawled away from the window and around the corner of the house. She just knew she wanted to get far away from the family that still refused to include her even though she was well aware of the secrets they'd kept hidden from her for so long. The woods had seemed like the ideal place to escape.
As Charlotte stumbled her way through the trees, her mind raced with a hundred thoughts. All of the maybes and if-onlys that could have kept her from the fear of standing in front of her father with these teeth bites on her arm and the consequences that would have to follow.
Maybe if she'd stayed indoors, maybe if she hadn't chosen the woods as the perfect place to explore in the middle of the night. Maybe if she had believed her mother when she said she had a bad feeling about tonight. Charlotte didn't know how her mother could know what was going to happen, but if she had just trusted her she could have avoided all of this.
Maybe if she hadn't been curious about the smoke coming from the house deep in the woods. Maybe if she hadn't been so close to the scene of the crime.
The small twelve year old let out another cry of pain as she stumbled forward and felt her feet brush against the steps of her front porch. The knowledge that she had made it home alive overwhelmed the small girl and she felt her knees caving in against her will.
"Charlotte? What happ- Oh my god."
Charlotte managed to find the energy to look up. Her father was staring down at her from the doorway. He took a step back shaking his head, a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"Dad I'm sorry- I didn't- I don't know where it came from. It came out of nowhere," she said helplessly. Her father looked like he wanted to take her up in his arms but he was clearly torn. Before he could move, another face appeared at the door.
"Papa?" Charlotte was struggling to keep herself conscious at this point, the pain almost overwhelming her senses completely, but she could make out her grandpa's stricken face as he crouched down to her eye level.
"Oh my sweet pea. I'm so sorry." Charlotte's brow creased. Why was he apologizing? She was the one who had snuck out of the house. She was the one staining the porch with her blood. But there was something in his eyes that scared her. Her grandpa was always so strong and sturdy, the voice of reason in their family, but right now he looked terrified.
Before she could question him, Charlotte heard a loud gunshot.
"No!" Charlotte's body was moving before she was fully awake, shooting up into a sitting position. Her heart raced as she quickly examined her body for the bullet wound. It took her a moment to remind herself that it had just been a nightmare. Yet another distorted flashback. Charlotte hadn't had a flashback like that in a while now. Of course her grandpa hadn't pulled the trigger, but that didn't stop the dream from hurting her all over again.
Charlotte leaned against the headboard of the bed as she caught her breath and let her heartbeat return to normal as she got her bearings. She was safe. She was at the lake house, in the bedroom Scott had taken her to, assuring her that the bed would beat sleeping under a bush. He was definitely right. She had just managed to calm herself down when she heard a voice from the doorway.
"You're awake." Malia stood in the centre of the doorway with her arms folded as she looked at Charlotte. She was wearing denim shorts again with a green t-shirt.
"How long have you been standing there?" Charlotte furrowed her brows at the werecoyote as she hugged her knees to her chest, the slightly large t-shirt Scott had provided falling around her body loosely.
"Not long. Well long enough to see you freak out." Malia shrugged. "Bad dream?"
"Yeah I guess." Charlotte hugged her knees tighter to herself.
"I get it. I used to get them all the time. Usually flashbacks." Malia shifted her weight across to her left foot as she studied Charlotte for some kind of reaction.
"Flashbacks to what?"
"To the night I shifted for the first time and killed my family. " Malia said it so bluntly, like it was completely casual information, as if she was giving a comment on the weather.
Charlotte felt her jaw drop slightly as she tried to think of an appropriate response to that kind of revelation. "Wow. Uh, wow."
"Yeah. Technically it was my adopted mother and sister. What was your nightmare about?" Malia tilted her head casually, seemingly unfazed by her own trauma.
Charlotte glanced down at the pale orange bedspread for a moment, briefly reliving the nightmare yet again. "Just the night I got bitten."
"Oh right, that must have been hard. I had the were-gene but I hear that getting the bite is pretty bad."
"Well yeah the pain was the worst, but I just keep remembering my family's reaction. Seeing my grandpa looking down at me." Charlotte felt a shiver run down her body, the awful memory too painful to relive in full. Of course he hadn't pulled a gun on her, that wasn't his reaction but someone else's. Apart from that, the rest of the nightmare seemed pretty accurate to reality.
"So how long ago was it? How long have you been on your own?" Malia was asking a lot of questions today. Charlotte bit her lip, not really appreciating the interrogation she was suddenly thrown into.
As if sensing Charlotte's irritation, Malia shifted her weight again and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, still keeping her distance from Charlotte. "Sorry. Scott said I shouldn't bombard you with questions too quickly."
"So why are you?"
"Because I want to know the answers." There she went again with her blunt responses.
Charlotte let out a sigh, trying to release some of the tension she was clinging onto. "Fine. Well I was bitten when I was twelve, although I don't know how long it's been. I think it's been about six or seven years now?"
"So you'd be…seventeen - no - eighteen now?" Malia frowned, her brain working out the maths. Charlotte could only shrug in response. She'd lost track of time passing long ago while on the run. She'd had more important things to focus on, so she'd let all concerns about age all slip out of her mind. "Well it's two thousand and twelve now." Malia offered up, looking expectantly at Charlotte.
"Okay, yeah that sounds right. I must be eighteen now. Wow, that's weird." Charlotte let that sink in. She'd missed six years of birthdays then. That was a weird concept. Letting that absorb, she looked back to Malia, ready to flip the questioning back to the werecoyote.
"So, what are you hiding from Scott?"
Malia seemed a bit stunned by the sudden accusation, which pleased Charlotte slightly. She was beginning to like Malia but she was done answering questions about her past for now. Malia didn't seem too offended by the question. Instead, she was studying Charlotte, as if she was judging whether Charlotte could be trusted with the truth. Apparently she could.
"My mother, my real mother, is trying to kill me. She's the reason I shifted in the first place, the reason I killed my family. So I'm going to kill her first." Malia set her jaw, a hard look on her face.
"Why can't you tell Scott? Isn't he your alpha? Doesn't that mean he's supposed to help you or something?"
"Scott's a good guy. Too good. He doesn't believe in killing as an option. He might not want me around once he finds out. So if you tell him I am more than happy to kill you too."
Charlotte looked at Malia, taking in her expression and what she had just shared. So she trusted Charlotte, despite barely knowing her. It had been a while since Charlotte had found anyone willing to share things with her, let alone secrets from their own alpha. Part of her felt wary helping a beta go behind their alpha's back since that had backfired on her plenty of times, but at the same time part of her was craving human connection. Not to mention, she fully understood the need to be the first to attack for once. The desire for vengeance was apparent in Malia's eyes, a look that Charlotte understood wholeheartedly. It was the same look that had been sitting on her own face for the last six years.
"I won't tell Scott." Charlotte paused, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap. "And I want to help you."
"Why?" Malia narrowed her eyes.
"Because I get it. The need to get revenge. And because you're the first person in a long time to be nice to me."
Malia's eyes softened slightly and she gave a small nod, a smile slipping up across her mouth. "Well I know what it's like to feel alone."
The two girls smiled at each other, two wild creatures giving each other a chance. This was possibly the first time in many years that Charlotte had actually felt like she might have a friend, or at least someone who had the potential to become a friend. It was odd, but nice.
The moment was halted abruptly by a loud beeping noise. Charlotte let out a yelp, scrambling back against the headboard as her eyes darted around in search of the source.
"Sorry! Sorry, just my phone." Malia threw a hand up to calm Charlotte down as the other hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a small mobile phone, holding it up to her ear.
"What?" She spoke into it, furrowed brow in place. "What did he say?" She paused, and Charlotte could make out another voice speaking on the other end of the line. "Okay! I'll be right there. Don't lose him."
Malia pulled the phone from her ear, letting out a sigh of relief, before leaping up off the bed. "Okay, well if you want to help you have to get dressed now. We've got a lead. Someone who might know something about my mother."
"We? Who is we?"
"Just get dressed! I'll explain later." Malia pulled open one of the drawers and tossed a few items of clothing onto the bed. She gestured to them, eyes wide. "Come on!"
Sensing the adrenaline running through Malia, Charlotte thought it was best not to argue or ask any further questions. Instead she grabbed the clothes, throwing on the black singlet and a pair denim shorts that seemed suspiciously similar to Malia's own pair. Were denim shorts the only thing girls wore in Beacon Hills now? Were all other options of pants now non-existent?
Charlotte let the question linger in her mind briefly before brushing it away as she followed Malia out the door.
A/N: Whew this was a tricky chapter. More excitement and plot coming in the next chapter I promise, as well as several other pack members! Also huge thank you to all of the lovely people who have been leaving reviews! Reviews really do help motivate me to keep writing and I love hearing your thoughts on each chapter! Please keep reviewing if you feel like it so I can tell if people are actually enjoying the story :) There is a lot of drama definitely on its way! Also feel free to talk to me about Charlotte on my tumblr (hailargent)! (Also just to clarify, I am taking a few liberties with the Teen Wolf timeline in terms of the year that certain events happened... More reveals to come!)