Aleatha
I followed the glow to a metal building. It reminded me of a prison. The glow was the brightest it had been during the duration of the spell. I placed the claw in my pocket and knocked. The person who attacked me was inside. I could barely make out the voices inside. I knew they were male. I waited.
Eventually they decided to open the door. I saw a man with black hair and hazel-green eyes. Next to him was a man with brown hair and blue eyes. I smiled.
"Hello, I am Aleatha. I'm here because one of you left a claw in my neck. So now I'll either turn or die. I need to know which and you're going to help me." I stepped inside.
The black-haired man looked at the other one. As did I.
"When will I ever stop cleaning up your messes, Peter?" Peter rolled his eyes.
"Quit being so dramatic, Derek. Since when have you ever had to clean up my messes?" Derek was getting angry.
This isn't working. There was a lot of bad blood between these two.
"Alright," they both looked at me, "that's enough. You two need to focus. Am I or am I not going to die?"
Derek looked surprised. Peter on the other hand looked ready to kill me. Though I got the feeling he wanted to kill everyone.
"Maybe I'll put you out of your misery." Peter lunged at me.
I dodged and was beside Derek. Peter landed face first on the floor. I shook my head. Pathetic.
"Anger makes you sloppy. You'll never land a hit that way let alone kill anyone." Derek snorted beside me.
I smiled at him. Peter rolled over. He was angry. He wore it like armor. So much and most likely for so long that he hadn't experienced any other emotion for a long time. My smile vanished. I had met others like Peter and it never ended well for them.
"Look," I kept my voice soft, "I just need to know if I'll be dead in a few days. If I won't be, I need to know how long I'll live. My kind lives for close to nine hundred years. Will that change with being a werewolf?"
Peter didn't look angry anymore. He had a confused look on his face. I didn't have time to figure out why. A hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked at Derek.
"What are you, Aleatha?" I smiled at him.
"I'm an elf, Derek." He tilted his head at me.
"I'm sorry. I've never heard of elves before. I don't know what the bite will do to you. My best guess is it will either turn you or kill you." Well shit.
I glanced at Peter and then at Derek, "then answer me this. How long is a werewolf's life span?"
Peter was still glaring. I rolled my eyes and turned to Derek.
"Can you tell me how long a werewolf lives," Derek nodded, "it depends. There is an alpha I know of who is over one-hundred years old, but it varies."
I smiled at him, "thank you, Derek."
That's the only answer I think I'll get from these two.
I turned away, "where the hell do you think you're going?"
I stopped. It was Peter who spoke. I turned back around. He had his arms across his chest and looked angry. I frowned.
Why does he care where I am going?
"I'm sorry, I don't think that's any of your business. I came in and have been nothing, but respectful to you. You're an impotent child," I turned to Derek, "thank you for being kind and understanding. I shall leave now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Derek."
I glared at Peter, "you not so much."
I walked out of their home. I wasn't going to return to Scott. I wasn't going to stay here. I was going back to the Nemeton and no one was going to stop me.