CHAPTER 3

Thought they should get to know one another better. Major action happening next chapter.

"Okay then," he swung around, crawling to the side of his bed so only the space between the mattresses divided them, "How long have you been in Beacon Hills?"

"Little over a year now."

"Why?"

"Stepmom's pack and a neighbouring one are in dispute over some territory. The fighting got pretty bad so Dad sent me to live with distant family 'for my own good'." She answered honestly. "And before you ask, I was out of town because I was visiting my parents."

The tall boy nodded as she spoke. "And you've never met a werewolf in Beacon Hills?"

"Nope," She shook her head and then smiled. "Not until tonight. I wonder how many more I'll meet now I'm actually on the lookout…" She trailed off.

"Ugh, I'm gonna get killed for spilling the secret." Isaac groaned and shoved a pillow over his own face.

"Hey now," she chided playfully. "You didn't spill, I figured it out. Anybody else I snuff out, I get to take credit for."

"When you put it like that..." He agreed with her. Her smirk turned into a beaming smile as she realised he was relaxing around her, acting less tense. "So who do you hang out with at school? I've never really seen you around before." He grimaced as he realised how rude it might have sounded to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Rori laughed him off lightly. "I know you didn't. To be honest, I usually just chill in the library when I'm free. If I get homework done during school, I have the afternoon to do whatever, you know?" Her pleasant smile remained as she shrugged casually. Then she tilted her head as she regarded him sitting there, cross-legged, watching her speak as he hugged a pillow to his stomach. "May I ask you something?"

He looked slightly concerned. "Err, yeah. It's only fair, I guess."

"It's really personal so you don't have to answer." He nodded minutely at her. "I heard that your Dad died in an animal attack, and now that I know you got the bite, I have to ask… Did you kill your father?"

Isaac looked wounded.

"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude." Rori began rambling, "It was just that if you had done something like that I would have liked to known since I'm, you know, gonna be sleeping only a few feet from you."

Then he looked angry.

"You know what," she backpedalled, "Just forget I asked."

"I should have," he growled.

Her eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

He was glaring down at her knee, refusing to make eye contact. His eyes flashed yellow. "I should have killed him."

Rori was quickly regretting being nice enough to pack away her wolfsbane. She was well aware that most werewolves had trouble managing their anger but this was more than that, and she would feel a lot safer with a spray bottle in her hand at the moment. "Why would you say something like that, Isaac?" she asked with carefully hidden trepidation.

He growled again, and Rori was thankful that his canines hadn't made an appearance yet. Instead of putting space between them like her instincts screamed at her to do, her body moved itself to the very edge of the bed.

"He was a monster. He beat me, locked me in an old freezer chest and chained it shut. I didn't kill him but I should have; then I would've been free of him sooner."

Rori sat back, shocked. Her lips parted as she exhaled, lost on what to say. Isaac still had his glowing eyes on her knee, his breathing heavy and his fingers digging into the pillow he was holding to his stomach.

"I'm sorry he did that to you. But Isaac," she tentatively put a hand on his knee, "You didn't want to kill your dad. You may have hated him, and he may have been a monster, but you're not."

"How would you know?" He spat, the tips of his fangs flashing behind his lips, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. But she didn't flinch away.

"That you're not a monster? Because right now I'm looking into your eyes and they're a shimmering yellow, not the icy blue of someone who's viciously taken a life." She patted his knee. "You don't have the eyes of a killer."

His canines sank away from sight and his eyes changed back to their human blue, pale like the sky in summer.

"Or maybe I'm wrong," Rori laughed nervously, "Because your cuddle buddy isn't looking so good."

Isaac looked down. The pillow he was holding against him had shred marks through it, the insides falling out into his lap. He'd accidentally clawed it open. He looked up to Rori, who had a silly grin on her face.

"Oops." She said for him.

He smiled despite himself, chucking the pillow and its stuffing into the corner behind his bed. His grin faded. Isaac pursed his lips. "You're not afraid of spending the night with me?"

Rori could have gone into a story about how she lived with her werewolf stepmother, and had friendly ties with eight out of the nine other wolves in her pack, but she decided maybe now wasn't the time. "Because you're a volatile werewolf, or because we're both hormonal teenagers sleeping within groping distance of each other?" He blushed and looked away. "No, I'm not afraid. But I don't want detention, so stay on your own bed or suffer the wrath of Finstock."

He nodded, but the wary expression didn't leave his face. Rori pulled up the covers and slipped under them. She peeked over the sheets at Isaac, who was scratching the back of his neck in thought. "You should try to get some sleep." She said.

"You try being a werewolf sharing a room with a chick who's got a bag full of wolfsbane beauty products, and let's see how you sleep." Isaac joked dryly. Rori threw a pillow at him, which he caught easily and hugged to his chest. "You're not getting this back."

Rori rolled her eyes. She flicked off the lamp and turned away from him, "Shut up and go to sleep, wolf boy."

He laughed softly at her. From under the covers, she smiled.

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