6 Chapter 6

"WHY KILL YOUR KIND? WHAT WOUL YOU GET OUT OF IT?" TRYING HER BEST TO UNDERSTAND, but he didn't have the answer, Grayson didn't know how to answer that, what would he say to her? How can he sum up all of his life's story into one little sentence? For the first time, he was lost for words. He didn't know what to say.

She waited for a response, but seconds flew by and eventually minutes, it seemed that he wasn't going to answer her, she knew why but yet she still tried to understand it logically but this was impossible to understand- when he finally spoke, he completely ignored the question.

"Where are we going? You keep giving me directions, but I'd like to know what I'm getting myself into?" She was taken back by his question and a little disappointed, yet it was a fair question, 'how was I going to explain this, to not only him but Gabriel?' She would sound crazy.

'Hey Gabriel, do you know your dead son that was kidnapped and was presumed dead, well guess what!? Found him! His right here!' She sounded borderline insane, how was she supposed to tell Gabriel that his only son was alive and well- was working with Marcel, the only person he hated more in this world? 'Twenty-two years... How the hell didn't we find you? You were hiding in plain sight, Ha the irony' that thought roamed her mind, it was simply impossibl-

"Well!" Grayson suddenly spoke in aggression, he might have looked like the King but was nothing like him, Grayson seemed temperament and hot-headed, slightly impatient. It was a breaking point of the little amount of patience he had. At that moment he was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. A sudden frustration that he seemed to push further down him, yet it slowly becoming unbearable to maintain, it seemed as though the universe has cursed him for eternity with the unknown. And it slowly killing him.

"You know curiosity killed the cat right?" She joked but Grayson didn't seem to grasp the joke and was beyond unamused. His face stern and the only emotion plastered on his godly-like features was anger and announce.

"Don't bullshit me with that crap!" White knuckles from the clenching of his hands around the steering wheel too hard, and gritted teeth from the effort to remain silent from further remarks, his form exuded an animosity that was like acid- burning, slicing, potent. His face was red with months suppressed rage.

"My patience is wearing thin, Witch." Adding an emphasis on the word 'Witch', but Emily didn't take that kindly, the audacity of him.

"Emily." She corrected, sternly.

This guy was nothing like the baby she remembered him to be, sweet and innocent, but yet she knew better. She knew that life defiantly hasn't been kind to him, and comparing him to his younger self was simply unjust, but even that in mind she still was very afraid of him. She knew of his past, what he had done and still can do. The fear that she tried too hard to mask travelled in her veins but never made it to her facial muscles or skin. Her complexion remained the same, her eyes steady as if she were shopping for shoes.

She let out an understated sigh. "You don't know much about where you came from do you?" She simply asked.

Although it was a rhetorical question he simply answered, "No, I don't" it was stern and yet that question angered him, Emily watched as the whites in his eyes turned the most vivid of red, and as his iris glowered teal, she has never felt so much rage emitting off someone before, his hands around the steering wheel tightened once again, almost breaking under his hold.

His eyes had narrowed slightly. They looked rigid and cold. To be occupied with the consumption of his darkened thoughts, an emptiness that always seemed to linger; he considered himself decent at hiding it, masking it with normal human emotions. There seemed to be silence within his soul; he felt a chill in his blood, coldness bringing the synapses of his brain to stand still. Part of it is a pain, yet one he seems to endure, one he has to sleep through the night after night without the anaesthesia of false hope. This is his winter; he was just waiting for spring and the chattering of the birds.

"Well hmm, you see it's very complicated-" she started speaking but cut off.

"Then uncomplicate it", he remarked rudely. Seeming sick and tired of people being unable, to tell the truth, they seemed to know everything about him, yet he knew nothing about himself. Too much information is being kept hidden and now he wanted to just turn the lights on and see.

"It's the Palace, the only place I know Marcel or his goons are unable to enter the territory", she said, confusion overtook her feature upon seeing his slight change of mood, catching a glimpse of worry.

"What prevents them from entering?" He asked.

"There's a barrier around the entire territory, it was cast by my ancestors a long time ago, nobody knows why, but some say it's to protect the royal family others say it is to prevent a prophecy from coming true" She shrugged as she explained it to him.

"What prophecy?"

"Not quite sure, only the king knows of it, the entire kingdom is pretty much in the dark about the majority of things that go on, even the war." she seemed sad.

"He sounds like a good ruler" he couldn't help but lace the words in sarcasm.

"How ironic, no but he's better than you think he is,-" she couldn't help the slight burst of light laughter, that escaped her, "anyway...we are almost there, we'll be much safer there".

"Well that's gonna be a little bit of a problem then," he said, gripping the stirring wheel tightly.

"Why would that be a problem?" More confused than ever.

"It seems you didn't see everything, did you?" what was he talking about?

"Did you ever stop to think about the colour of my eyes and why they are the way they are?" she didn't know how to answer that, so she stayed silent not uttering a word, letting him to continue. Curiosity got the better of her, why were his eyes that colour? She'd been curious at first, but from her knowledge werewolves possess golden specks, yet his were different, and not slightly different but a whole different colour.

"It seems that you haven't seen anything but the recent past" that's how her powers work, she could only see a couple of months, her powers were limited unless her ancestors from beyond thought it was necessary or important to show something specific that could help shortly, but that rarely happened. Seldom happened.

"You see the only reason Marcel had that much power over me, it's because we are linked by blood-"

"That's impossible... He doesn't have that kind of power to..." she seemed baffled.

"Trusted me when I say this, Marcel no matter the challenge, he will do almost anything to achieve his ultimate goal, even if he has to kill, torture, steal, the list goes on. Take my word for it, I had to learn it the hard way- Marcel is a lot of things but he isn't stupid."

"What the hell did he do?" the fear that once flowed in her veins, suddenly just amplified.

"Let's just say I'm not an ordinary werewolf, and I know for certain, I'm unable to enter through that territory". As soon as he finished talking, His hold on the steering wheel served as the car was hit with an unknown force out of nowhere, he didn't know where it came from. Emily's body jerked to the dashboard, her forehead colliding with the window.

The car flipped so many times that Grayson became disorientated before he even sustained the concussion that has him drifting in and out of consciousness. His fleetingly aware of the bloody taste in his mouth but he couldn't figure out what it was, the noise of the metal being bashed over the concrete was almost deafening, as the seatbelts tugged on his skin with every lurch and the airbag was already deflating, His attempts to take off his seatbelt failing with every attempt, as he tried to help Emily, who was in a much worse position than him, his attempts were unsuccessful.

The windows were smashed, the truck doing more damage than ever. When everything stopped there was only the sound of rain on the underbelly of the car for so long... then footsteps... Fuck... was his last thought before everything went dark, his attempts to stay awake deflating with each passing second and his eyes fluttered, trying desperately to see who was the cause of this, but his attempts once again failed him.

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