A sheen of sweat had begun to form on my forehead. The heat was becoming overwhelming, and I hurried to kick off the heavy quilts. I froze when a low groan sounded in my ear.

Derek had managed to wrap himself around me in his sleep. His arm was draped lazily over my hips, and his face was nuzzled into the crook of my neck. Our legs were entangled, and heat practically radiated off the guy. Though he was uncomfortably warm, I couldn't stop myself from snuggling closer to him, ashamed that I enjoyed how he felt pressed against me.

I should have just moved away and woken him up, but something seemed to come over me. Something I had never experienced before.

So before I could talk myself out of it, I swallowed my fear and rolled over to come face to face with Derek. His breath was warm and gently tickled my cheek. I scooted closer to him, practically pressing our heads together. "Derek," I called softly.

He stirred slightly, and a moan followed shortly after. Apparently, he was a light sleeper.

I raised my voice a bit higher, "Derek, could you wake up?"

His eyes lazily fluttered open. This time, he wasn't shocked to see me, in fact a lopsided grin that made my heart stop, took over his features.

Derek's POV:

I had, had dreams like this before. Chloe often appeared in my dreams nowadays. Ever since that first day I had laid eyes on her, she developed this annoying habit of appearing in my dreams, and always remained in the back of my mind during waking hours. The first few times, I had woken up shocked by the direction the dreams would take, but by now, I had accepted it.

I smiled at dream Chloe, a smile that hardly anyone ever saw. "Hey," I mumbled sleepily.

She offered me a hesitant smile, "Hey."

She was nestled close beside me, her head now resting against my arm, and her hips pressed firmly against my own. Dad had warned me that I might get dreams like this when I began changing, he explained it in a way that I would understand; hormones.

Her makeup was smudged and resembled a raccoon, and yet she still managed to look cuter than a majority of the girls who attended Lyle High School. Her red hair was tangled and could only be described as wild.

She inched closer to me now, her face angling towards mine. This wasn't new in my dreams, but something felt off. "Chloe?" I whispered quickly.

She paused, "Yes?"

My mind was clearing now, the foggy, dream-like thoughts quickly slipping away as my brain whirred wide awake. "Chloe, stop," I growled.

She immediately scrambled away from me, her eyes widened frightfully. The last time she had been near me, I had physically harmed her. I could see the bruises clearly now. She had shed her blouse at some point in the night, and was left wearing only a skimpy tank top. Two hand prints had been bruised into each of her shoulders. My handprints. "Chloe," I whimpered. "I think you should go."

Chloe's POV:

I hadn't expected that response. Though, I wasn't sure what else I expected. He was Derek, the big bad supernatural, who was star of Lyle's football team. Then there was me, Chloe Saunders, who couldn't protect herself without going mad.

My throat constricted painfully, but I forced myself to nod my head. "Oh," was all I managed to say, without choking on tears.

"Please," he said, his voice rough now.

"Yeah. I'm going. Sorry." I quickly scrambled out of the bed, trying my best to avoid being seen. His eyes followed me nonetheless, and his green eyes glowed in the dark. I tugged on my blouse, and then my jacket, zipping it up protectively. The room was cold, and made shiver. I already missed the warmth of his bed.

Derek moved to get out of bed and walk me out, but I stopped him. "Stop. I can get the door myself. Goodnight, Derek."

He had sat up in the bed now, and was staring at me with big, sad eyes. "Goodnight, Chloe," he said, almost too quiet for me to hear.

I hurried out the bedroom door. The party was still going downstairs, but I suspected that it was now far past curfew. Most were settling down in the living room now, passing around drinks and exchanging stories. I crept past, hoping to avoid Simon.

Once outside, darkness enveloped me. The odd dull streetlight illuminated my path, but other than that, I walked on in complete darkness. Music still played from the party, but the noise had died down considerably. I noted with surprise that I had managed to sleep through a majority of the noise, and slept right through to nightfall.

Footsteps sounded ahead of me, and instinctively, I dived into the bushes to my right. A figure stopped under one of the street lamps and continued to look around, searching for something… or someone.

"Chloe?" the voice called. "Chloe, I know you're out here. It's called a tracking spell."

Tori's shrill and condescending voice reached my ears. My shoulders sagged with relief, and I crept from the shadows like a skittish animal. Tori smiled when she saw me, and skipped forward.

"I knew it! Tracking spells never let me down." Her smile faltered when she saw my face. "What happened to you?" she gawked.

"Long story," I grumbled. "Did you get what you were looking for?"

"Sure did," she quipped. "Turns out our sexy physics sub, works for the Edison group as a hitman."

"What?" Now it was my turn to gawk.

"The Edison group ultimately decides who gets terminated. After the mess you made in the girl's change room, thank you for that by the way, they concluded that you were too dangerous to remain in the public. They hired on Liam to terminate you, so to speak."

Panic edged into my voice, "What do I do?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Run, I guess."

I sputtered, "I can't go on the run on my own!"

"Sure you can, just pack a bag, hop on a bus, and go. See? Easy." She sidestepped around me, and started to pick her way back to the party.

"Tori!" I shouted after her. "I'm no good at this supernatural stuff, please!"

I knew she heard me call after her, but she never responded. Tears were streaming down my face once again, and I gathered myself to turn and sprint back home. Maybe Aunt Lauren would know what to do, she had to know what to do.

Derek's POV:

Chloe never made it home.

"You did what?" I roared after Tori.

Tori flopped down on to the love-seat with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh please, Wolf Boy. Don't tell me you actually care what happens to her? She's just another supernatural, we die all the time. Your Dad even says that you must always value the life of yourself, and your family, above all other supernaturals."

"Chloe is different!" I shouted at her.

Tori laughed, "Why? Because she's cute? Get over it Derek, we don't need the dead weight."

"One day Tori, you're going to learn the hard way that a life of leaving others behind, will result in everyone leaving you when you need them most."

She flinched at that one. "Fine," she said with a snap, and a sharp flick of her wrist. "She probably went to go get coffee or something, it was cold. Go check the shop a few blocks down from her apartment. If she's not there, give me a call, and I'll try out another tracking spell."

I didn't say anything, I just turned around and left. Tori could be a real heartless bitch sometimes, and I have no idea why my Dad still kept her around. Comic relief, I suppose.

I stuffed my hands into the pocket of my jeans. My change would be coming on soon, I could feel it rattling around within my bones. I just prayed that it wouldn't take place tonight, the night that I needed to be alert and ready.

Chloe's scent was easy enough to pick out, and I recognized Tori's as well. Tori's scent always seemed to be masked in an excessive amount of chemically perfume. My nose crinkled when I picked her trail up.

I walked farther along, pausing when Chloe's scent veered off into a bush, and then returned back to the sidewalk. Chloe Saunders, you are one odd woman.

I halted in my tracks. Another, unfamiliar scent was caught in the breeze. After a few moments, of desperate attempts to catch it, the blood drained from face. Werewolf.