Mine to Protect Chapter 47: ATTACKED

*Hazel*

“Have other white wolves held the power of light in the past?” I ask eagerly.

“Not that I can recall, but we could go through our ancestors’ diaries, maybe we could find something. They are at my mom’s house, in my old pack. I can take you there tomorrow, if you have time.”

“I’d love that, thank you mom. I will take a day off work; this is too important to wait.”

“My, my, what is that thing on your finger? Isn’t it heavy?” mom exclaims wiggling her eyebrows. I blush at her blatant curiosity, making dad look at me with wide eyes.

“He proposed, and I accepted,” I manage to say in a small voice. Why do I get embarrassed so easily? I really need to grow a backbone or two!

Mom screams with happiness, piercing our ears.

“I knew the clothes I packed would do the trick! Call me Lizzy-matchmaker from now on. Marked, mated and fiancée in just two days! I hope you used the protection I packed for you. I mean, kids are cute, but you are still young. When will the Luna ceremony take place? I need to start getting ready, there are clothes to buy, stylists to book…”

She goes on with her ranting, while the only thing I can do is staring appalled at her.

How did I end up with a mom like this? The thought of me being adopted comes back in full force.

Later, we are in the kitchen cooking dinner, while my mom is trying to get out of me all the sordid details of the weekend at Derek’s, she seriously needs to get a life of her own. Maybe go on a trip or something.

Ding, dong. Someone is at the door. Dad goes to open, wondering out loud who it could be at this hour. The next thing I know, he’s lying on the entrance floor motionless, his eyes wide, blood gushing out of his torso. I want to scream, run to him, but nothing comes out, I am frozen, my mind just can’t process what’s happening.

From my position in the kitchen, I see a man wearing black from head to toe, holding a gun, step inside our home. His black boots step on my father’s blood, which has now formed a pool around his lifeless body; every step he takes leave a bloody print on the entrance floor.

Suddenly the door of the kitchen snaps shut, bringing me out of my trance. Mom, pale as a ghost, her cheeks stained with tears, grabs my arm harshly, and brings me behind the counter. We crouch down in hiding, and déjà vu hits me like a train wreck, a memory of five years ago, me and Cindy hiding behind the pub’s counter.

“Hazel! Hazel! Snap out of it!” mom screams at me, and I realize I have been spacing out.

“Get out, arms raised, we don’t want to hurt you.” A muffled voice comes from outside the kitchen door.

“Hazel, I will create a hole in the wall for you to get through, you need to run out as fast as you can, without looking back, don’t stop until you are somewhere safe, Derek will find you.”

“What about you?” I ask, already guessing her answer.

“I will hold them back, and then will come find you,” she says, but her voice doesn’t sound convincing even to herself.

“No, I won’t leave you. I have already lost dad; I won’t lose you too. We’ll fight together.”

“Hazel, don’t be stupid…” she starts yelling, but she does not get to finish her sentence, because gas bombs are thrown inside through the windows, releasing a green smoke which makes my throat hurt, my body feel week.

Mom stays strong and uses her powers to push the gas away out of the room, while she’s busy, the door slams open, dozens of darts flying in, hitting mom and myself in multiple spots. I fall to the floor, my limbs giving out, and I black out almost immediately, at the view of my father’s body, on the floor like me, a few meters apart.

I come to an unfamiliar place, my head aching badly, potent nausea overcomes me, and I throw up on the floor, all over my feet.

My mind is all jumbled up, sluggish, like I am drunk. Have I been drinking? Sometimes I do, but I never take it too far.

I look at my surroundings, I am in a small room, it’s dark, I can’t see clearly, I wonder why my werewolf night sight is not helping me. I am sitting on a metal gurney, a thin mattress placed over it, to make it feel more like a bed. Where am I? How long have I been here?

Slowly, the memories of what went down at home start surfacing, and I can’t help a hiccup, followed by a flood of tears. Dad is no more. They killed him! Whoever these people are, they are going to pay for what they have done!

Where’s mom? Have they taken her too? I need to find out. I get up hurriedly, stumbling and falling on my knees; whatever they have injected into me is making me weak. I get up slowly, leaning on the wall for support, and make my way to the door I can see at the other end of the room. There’s no door handle, it probably opens and closes automatically, how will I be able to get out of here?

Unexpectedly, the door clicks open, and I am met with a view that makes my blood freeze in my veins; the boogey man of my nightmares, someone wearing a white lab suit.

I take two steps back, horrified by the figure in front of me. The vision, was to warn me of my future? Is this going to be my end? Cut up like a pig in a slaughterhouse?

No, I won’t let it happen, I can’t let them get hold of me.

The suited person comes into my room, followed by other two, I am outnumbered, but I can still have a chance if I act fast. Without waiting to think it through and chicken out, I lunge at the person nearest me, he (maybe, or she, whatever) loses his balance and lands on his back with me on top. I take hold of his head with my right hand and smash it to the ground repeatedly, hoping he’ll lose consciousness. Strong arms grasp me and take me off my prey, it’s the other two, one keeping hold of my left arm, the other my right arm. I start wrenching in their strong hold, hoping to get them off, but they are too strong; are they werewolves too? Or am I just too weakened?

I keep kicking and screaming, but it doesn’t bother them, they drag me outside my cell, like a sack of potatoes, and they deposit me unceremoniously in another room. It’s small, maybe two square meters, covered completely in mirrors, with sprinklers jutting out of the walls and ceiling. The idea of them using a deathly gas to finish me off pops into my mind, but I put it aside quickly, not wanting to let my mind wonder in this horrid scenario.