Chapter 39

Ren was running.

He was flying through the cold forest, the air whipping across his face, cutting his skin, and leaving his eyes dry. He was staring ahead, eyes wide open even though they were screaming with pain. The pain soothed the deep disgust inside his stomach that was tumbling over and over. The pain felt good. It was an answer that he'd been praying for for years and it had finally come to him.

His lungs couldn't hold anymore air. He was gasping, but the breaths weren't holding. They were disappearing just like the days, months, and years had. He didn't know how he'd ended up here. Well, he knew how he ended up in the forest. What he didn't know was how everything had come to this.

The years of adolescence were long gone. He was a grown man, but he didn't feel like one. He felt like a boy.

There were no tears this time. He was gliding through the forest, dodging fallen trees, and chasing after a dream that never existed in the first place. Everything had been a lie. The things he'd yearned for were always mist floating in the sky.

How many nights had the forest called for him? He knew it was too many. And then when he'd answered, when he'd followed the calling to the mountain, things had gone even further down hill.

His lungs were burning and there was a deep ache in his side.

That's when he stopped. He couldn't go any further.

He was somewhere in the middle of the forest. Not close to his house, not the city, and not the Mantels'. He was nowhere.

He stood there. The sun was high in the sun, beating down on him. Sweat beaded on his face and soaked the back of his shirt. His chest heaved while the birds tweeted back at him.

Sunbeams set the forest on fire. The trees were still intimidating, but they were no longer transformed by the dark shadows. Ren reached out to the one closet to him. The moment his hand touched the hard bark he was grounded. The tears that wet his eyes dried and the quaking in his stomach settled.

He forced himself to breathe evenly.

This was it. This was the place he was going to die.

He fell to his knees.

He didn't care anymore. His mom was going to be fine. She could make it on her own without him. He was just a burden that was making her life harder.

All of this had been for her anyway. If he didn't have her, he would have let himself be murdered by the killer in the forest or he would have let the Hunters shoot him.

The soil soaked his pants. The coldness hit his knees. His eyes were crossed as he stared ahead.

The buzzing slowly started at the center of his chest. It materialized out of nothing and he briefly wondered where it had come from. That was one other thing that he hadn't found the answer to. The thing within him seemed to come out of nowhere, but he was starting to think that it had just been him all along.

He laid down on the ground. He was shaking though it wasn't cold. He curled up, sheltering himself from the outside world with his arms.

***

"Well, isn't this interesting."

Ren was jolted awake by a sharp kick to his back. His hands clawed the ground, raking back leaves and dirt. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

He rolled onto his back and stared into the eyes of none other than Regan.

Regan sneered down at him. He was wearing an awful grey sweater and acid washed jeans. He was alone which was a surprise. Usually when he was trying to pick a fight with Ren he had others there to back him up.

Ren glared at him as he tried to sit up but before he could, Regan kicked him down in the center of his chest. Ren grunted as he fell on his ass.

Regan laughed. "What are the fucking chances?"

Ren was thinking the same thing.

Regan moved to kick down at him again, but Ren rolled to the left just in time to avoid the attack. His blood was rushing to his head. He was high on anger. It was boiling throughout his body.

Regan was shocked for a second before he wiped the surprise from his face. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm going to rip your fucking fangs out."

Regan pulled out a switchblade that looked eerily similar to his own. Caught off guard by the familiar looking knife, Ren was stunned for a moment, giving Regan a chance to make a grab at him.

Ren was quicker though he was stunned. The dirt was kicked in all directions. He felt Regan step in front of him in the hopes that that would stop him.

Everything went so fast. He was in a whirlwind of just doing as if someone else was controlling his body, but he knew that it was him this time—not the thing. But even so, Regan somehow got one over him.

Ren was trying to get onto his feet because he knew that he was screwed if he kept low to the ground. Before he could stand, Regan was on top of him, wrestling him down to the ground and wrapping his arm around his neck. Ren gagged as Regan tightened his elbow and jerked Ren's head back. Ren stared wide-eyed into the depths of the forest. He clawed at the arm holding him hostage

"Fucking hell! Stay still!" Regan thrashed him around as if that would make Ren fight any less.

For a split second, Ren thought about sinking his fangs into Regan's exposed arm, but he thought better of it. He just knew it would cause him more problems later on.

Ren flipped them over and pressed all his weight onto Regan. He heard a large heave and twigs breaking beneath their weight. Ren dug his nails in as deep as he could into Regan's forearm.

The blade of the knife was shining in the sunlight.

He needed to get it away from Regan before he decided he was going to kill Ren right here.

Ren placed his feet flat on the ground on either side of Regan's legs. He put all his strength into heaving himself up, but he was still being pulled down by Regan's strong grip. It was a lot stronger than he would have thought it would be given that Regan was a lot shorter than he was. And because he was human.

Ren gritted his teeth. Regan was still gaining his breath when he began to tilt the sharp tip of the knife toward Ren's face.

There was a thought that passed through Ren's head at that particular moment. As he gazed back at the blade, he realized that he could just let Regan have his way. He'd wanted to die in the forest not long ago and here was his chance. This was his way out.

It was barely a second where he thought about how all his problems and pains would be gone. He wouldn't have to feel anything anymore after one more intense pain that would become his release.

But Ren hated Regan. And he didn't want to die.

Not like this.

Ren let out a deep growl that vibrated through his chest. It wasn't a growl that could have come from any vampire or human. It was a growl that sounded like it came from the pits of hell. Regan froze, his hands stilling, and that's when Ren took his chance.

He slammed his head back, knocking his skull hard against Regan's nose.

"Ah! Motherfucker!"

Ren shoved Regan all the way off of him and jumped to his feet. He grabbed the knife out of Regan's loose grip and pointed it back at the now defenseless teen. Regan was rolling back and forth on the ground with his hands covering his face. Ren could see and smell the blood running from his nose. The smell was tantalizing, but it wasn't as good smelling as Ashton's had.

Ren's nose twitched as the smell tried to get him to take a taste. He forced the burning need in his throat down. His fangs popped slightly through his gums, but they weren't throbbing as they usually did. He thought it was strange that they weren't reacting like they would have any other time.

Ren swallowed as he stared down at Regan. It was the glare—the pure hatred in those eyes—that made his lips twist into a snarl. This wasn't the first time that he had to deal with Regan. But it was the first time that Regan had attacked him so blatantly and so out of the blue. The other times he had others to watch as he humiliated Ren.

This time...

It felt strange. It felt like it had more of a purpose than it should have.

Ren hadn't noticed he was panting until he tried to speak.

"Where did you get this?"

Regan looked at him like he was mad.

Ren ignored it. He took a slight step back, watching Regan's body language. Regan kept still, not even moving his hands from his face. Their eyes were locked.

Ren lifted the knife. The handle lined up with Regan's face. He watched Regan as he got a closer look at the details of the knife.

It was blue. Almost a cornflower blue. There were specks of gold and white mixed in with the blue. On one side, there were gold metal embellishments. They were like long elongated leaves that ran the entire length of the side. On the other side of the handle, there were three initials.

Ren's knife—the one he'd found among his grandparents' things in the attic—was just like this one.

Except the initials.

Regan seemed to be completely caught off guard. He tilted his head and his brows scrunched as he stared at Ren like he'd grown two heads.

"I'm not telling you shit."

Ren ran his thumb over the embossed handle.

Footsteps. Ren heard them and of course they weren't Ren's or Regan's.

He didn't have to think as he stepped to the side and turned toward the direction of the footsteps. He made sure that his back wasn't to Regan. He watched him carefully out of the corner of his eyes and searched for the person that had walked into them.

His mouth dropped open and his grip on the knife loosened.

Darrien—wearing all black—closed the small distance between him and the two of them.

Darrien didn't look like he belonged in the forest. His blank face and his narrowed eyes made him look like he was a killer in a movie. Ren's hands sweated. He tightened his grip, pressing his nails into the palm of his hands.

He was surprised. It was a brick wall that smacked him in the face. He floundered, but he hadn't forgotten that Regan was still on the ground and that he was still in danger.

He was torn between believing Darrien was on his side and unsure if this was a plan between him and Regan. There was no telling between the two.

Then he remembered that he'd seen them on multiple occasions going off together. Maybe Darrien's kind facade was just that: a facade.

Ren and Darrien stared at each other for a long time. Ren thought it was interesting that Darrien didn't look at all surprised that he was there with Regan. There wasn't a single amount of emotion on his face and that unnerved Ren. People that were this good at hiding their true feelings were the most dangerous.

He couldn't believe that there had been even a small sliver of himself that wanted to trust Darrien. It was a good thing that he hadn't.

Darrien looked down at the knife in Ren's hands.

Ren unconsciously squeezed it. He felt the embossed design sink into the palm of his hand. It slightly hurt, but it was a dull ache. He kept his gaze on Darrien while also watching Regan.

Something was in the air. He could almost taste it. His senses were fried, making it hard to feel anything. His eyes burned, his smell was fading, and he kept trying to reach out for the emotions that he just recently was able to read in the air.

Then, Darrien looked away from Ren. He looked over at Regan and there was a flicker of something on his face that Ren couldn't read. He was for sure that the two either hated each other's guts or that they were so good at putting on an act that they had to be in cahoots. The options were tearing Ren apart so much so that it was making his head spin just thinking about it.

He wanted to take a step back, but he forced himself to stay where he was. He clenched his jaw, his hand tightening even harder on the handle of the blade.

Regan curled his upper lip. He was looking back at Darrien.

"I don't need help. Not from you."

This was really good acting. Ren might have been impressed if Regan hadn't just attacked him and wanted to gut him like a fish.

Regan moved to get up. He struggled for less than a second before Darrien was right in front of him. Regan fell back, mouth dropping slightly in shock. He jolted back, flinching, but his eyes were just as cold as before.

Darrien reached toward the back of his pants.

Ren had an idea what he was reaching for and it wasn't something he wanted pointed at him. He still didn't move though his body was screaming for it. The other screaming—the screaming for blood and murder—rang more than anything. He wasn't exactly in control, but he was as in control as he could be.

He kind of liked this. He almost felt like he could do anything.

Like morality couldn't hold him back.

With Darrien standing over Regan, Ren made his move. He took his time as he stepped closer. He flicked the knife open. The soft familiar click gave him satisfaction as he saw Darrien stiffen.

Darrien turned his head just enough so that he could look at Ren. "I'm not here to start trouble."

It was the way that he said it that made Ren think otherwise.

Ren narrowed his eyes. He looked down at Regan who was glaring at Darrien and then back up at Darrien once more. "It's pretty interesting that you two ended up here, isn't it?"

"You want me to shove my fist down your—"

Darrien kicked Regan square in the chest. Regan slammed back down on the ground with a grunt.

He snarled. "Fuck you, cocksucker."

Darrien gave a soft snort, but otherwise ignored him.

"What do you want me to say?"

The confidence Ren had been riding on was waning. The tremble started at the tip of his fingers and it slowly traveled up his fingers to his palms. Then, it was in his wrist and he was doing everything he could to keep the obvious shaking down to a minimum. He was thankful that Darrien was turned away. Regan was scowling at Darrien so he hadn't noticed either.

"The truth obviously. What are you doing here?"

Darrien's gaze dropped.

Ren figured he wasn't going to get an answer. That was okay. He had a hunch he knew what was going on. He should have known that there was no one in this world that could be trusted. Everyone had their own agendas and no one really cared about others.

He was used to it.

But it still stung. Even though he'd never fell for Darrien trying to be his friend.

Ren flicked the knife close and tossed it at Regan's feet.

Regan stared at it before he looked up at Ren.

"Next time, it'll end up in your throat."

Ren backed up until he couldn't see the two of them anymore. Then, he ran.

As he ran, he thought about how it might not have been a great idea to threaten the obvious person that wanted to ruin his life. But his life was pretty much over already.

What was there left to protect?