Chapter 51

                                    

                                          
*Flashback - 1847 Days After the Incident*
Woods's funeral was yesterday. 
The pack has been unusually quiet ever since. 
Willa didn't show. 
"What now?" Winston asked, leaning against Wyatt's cot. 
Wyatt was still stuck in whatever trance Waverly put over him. 
And she still had no idea how to fix it.
"I don't know." Waverly muttered, turning to the werewolf. "I seriously have no idea."
He nodded his head, brushing a strand of white hair behind his ear. "I cant believe this."
She fell back into the wall, taking in a shaky breath. 
"I mean, I cant say I ever liked the bitch, but Woods didn't deserve this." Winston said, folding his arms over his chest. 
Waverly looked up at the ceiling, examining the rocky exterior. "No one does."
He sighed. 
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" She whispered, throat becoming alarmingly tight. "I cant...I don't know how to save him."
Her eyes trailed over to Wyatt. 
He was just lying there, under that thin sheet...completely unaware. 
The clear casing hovering over him fluctuated slightly. 
Winston jumped, surprised by the sight. "Wait, did you see that?"
Waverly nodded, a hopeful smile spreading across her face. 
"Do that again." He commanded, gesturing towards Wyatt's unmoving body. 
Her face dropped. "Do what?"
Winston shrugged. "Whatever you just did, whatever made it glitch."
Waverly shook her head. "I didn't do anything."
He hesitated, glancing between the two of them. "Then...what happened?"
She slid forward. 
Wyatt's right hand twitched.
The werewolf nearly fell back in excitement. 
"Look!" Waverly exclaimed, watching as his body slowly began to break out of its frozen-like state. 
Winston gasped. "Keep doing whatever you're doing!"
She shook her head, more frantically this time. 
"Its not me." She said, gripping the side of the cot. "It's him."
*End of Flashback - Present Time*
"Waverly."
Black liquid dripped from her leg, seeping into the dirt beneath them. 
The shapeshifter clenched her jaw. 
Wyatt was kneeling before her, his heart beating so loud and so fast she could hardly hear herself think. 
"Does it hurt?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. 
As soon as those words left his mouth a horrid pain tore through her life a thousand knives on her skin.