Seizures

Jeremy's POV:

I became frantic, watching Olivera heave in and out, slowly but loudly, shaking violently as she held my arms for support.

"Where are your drugs?" I asked, tapping her pockets frenziedly.

But she couldn't say anything, she was slipping into an unconscious state, and it was driving me crazy. This wasn't good at all for our stay here.

I looked up ahead, the man was still walking, not aware that the people he was leading to God-knows-where weren't behind him.

"Vera, do you want me dead?" I asked, trying to implore a tactic which had just popped up in my head. It might be seen as emotional blackmail; but I didn't care at this point. I just wanted her back to her normal self.

But it didn't work. She was still shaking.

"Hey!"

I heard the man call, and soughed. We were really in trouble. I thought, holding her tightly while slipping slowly to the floor; expecting and ready for the worse.

"What's going on? What's wrong with her?" He asked, as he drew closer to us, staring at the shaking Olivera with skeptical eyes.

"She experiences seizures sometimes. And I can't find her drugs." I replied, hoping that he wouldn't be as vile and wicked as the man from last night, who had beat me up mercilessly for something I knew nothing of.

He had also touched Olivera. I was sure of it. She just didn't want to tell me. But I would get the truth, soon. She had to get up from this first.

"Drugs? Is she human?" The man questioned, bewildered totally by my statement.

"Not really. She is wolfless." I muttered, knowing he would still hear me.

"Wolfless? And still has seizures? Very unfortunate." He muttered, staring at Vera pitifully, whose shaking has decreased a little.

And I couldn't agree less. I didn't understand why she could be befallen with two no-good dates. The moon goddess knows better, or so they say. Since my parents died strangely, I've been aloof on the whole moon goddess stuff.

Not seeing my mate yet, wasn't aiding the issue either. But at least, I had Olivera. And I wish there was a way to stop her seizures completely. 

She had told me at my first sight of it, that she had been experiencing it since she turned ten, for no reasons. Her parents did all they could to treat it, but to no avail. And then at 18, it was discovered that she was wolfless.

I knew her parents, although they still cared for her a bit, still see her as a burden or a mistake, even though she came first, before her younger sister, Lisa.

"What were you guys doing then, on our grounds?" The man asked, interrupting my thoughts, peering at me, like he could see through my entire being.

"We were trying to escape. Our pack was being attacked. We didn't know we were on your grounds. We were just running." I replied.

"What's the name of your pack?" He asked, and I became mute.

We were actually rogues, us and some fifty others. We had escaped from my uncle's pack because of his wicked reign. We had run into some area in the forest, settling there, trying to figure our next move. We had agreed to move into the city, to live among the humans, before we were attacked by our previous pack.

I'm sure of it now, since the man who's leading us to somewhere, seems sincerely intrigued and suprised by our story.

"You're a rogue?" He asked, thinning his eyes in scrutiny.

"Yeah, we left our pack." I answered, casting a furtive glance at Olivera. Her seizures were stopping now. I was grateful for that, but we still needed the drugs.

"Which pack?" He asked.

"Red Moon Pack." I stated, staring at him, and sighing when I sensed that he knew the pack I was talking about.

"I see." He muttered, and I knew he did see.

I don't think there was a pack that hadn't heard of my previous pack. Our Alpha's wickedness went far and wide.

"I can't promise a better stay here still." He added, before turning to walk off; causing my fears to resurface.

What did he mean by his statement?

" Wait!" I called, still sprawled on the floor with Vera's weight totally on me. She would be waking anytime soon, from now. So I needed to get the answer to this question, in her absence. I didn't want a repeat of her seizures again, if the answer turned out to be correlative.

"Yes." He replied, turning back to face me.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Your pack.. what's the name?" I asked, praying that it would turn out to be some pack I've heard nothing of. It would be better than being in the Dark shadows Pack.

"I think you know already." The man replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't." I stated monotonely, keeping a bland face so that he couldn't read off my facial expression.

"The Dark Shadows Pack." He replied, turning away. "When your friend gets up, follow the narrow straight path till you get to an open field. You would see me and the others when you arrive." He added, before walking off.

"Did I hear that right?"

I heard Olivera mutter fearfully, and soughed. She had been awake for a while.

"Olivera.." I called, in a placating tone, not wanting to set her off again. We had to get going. Although the strange man had been kind enough to let us stay back for a while, I wouldn't want to prey on that. Who knows what might happen then?

"We are going to die." She muttered, as she scratched an itchy spot on her jet black hair which laid on my lap.

"No, we are not." I said, in a fake brave tone. I was scared myself. I've heard stories about the pack and its ruthless Alpha; more ruthless than my uncle. And I know she had heard them too; the reason why her seizures had started. But I have to be brave for the both of us.

"We have to be going." I added, looking ahead at the narrow path, wondering how long we had to walk on it before getting to the field.

"Yeah, I heard." She replied, raising her head up from my lap.

"Okay." I said, before standing up from the grassy ground. 

Stretching out my right hand toward her, I beckoned on her with my eyes, to place her hand in mine, so that I could help her up; and she dutifully complied.

"Do you think we will live past a week?" She asked, as we trudged down the path.

"Yes, we will." I answered, not even for a second, believing my own words.