Chapter Two - My Wolf

[Skylar's POV]

My eyes snapped open, then I shut them back tight immediately as the bright morning daylight streamed through the sheer curtains straight into my eyes. My brain felt like it was spinning inside my skull, vibrating with a dull, persistent throb. Physical and mental exhaustion had eventually won the war the night before, dragging me under after hours of tossing and turning, but waking up felt no better than going to sleep.

I dragged the heavy duvet completely over my head, burying my face deep into the soft fluff of my pillow in a desperate bid to block out the morning and drift back to sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, praying silently to whoever was listening that the strange midnight voice had just been a weirdly vivid fever dream brought on by stress, late-night reading, or a severe lack of sleep.

'Oh, good, you're awake!'

The voice bounced cheerfully through my head, clear as a bell and bright as a whistle. I winced as the sound vibrated right behind my eyes, completely shattering my hopes of a peaceful morning. I paused.

'I've been thinking. Do you think blue is our color, or should we go with something bolder? Like deep crimson? Or maybe electric silver? Also, why is your bed so soft? I like it, but I could definitely shred it in five seconds flat if I wanted to.'

I groaned aloud, tossing the heavy blanket aside with enough force to send it sliding right off the mattress and onto the floor. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment on the edge of the mattress, resting my elbows on my knees and letting my hair fall over my face like a messy curtain.

"Can you... stop? Weird voice," I mumbled to the empty room, dragging both hands heavily down my face. I felt completely ridiculous talking out loud to nothing, yet responding to something or someone who felt entirely too real inside my head.

'Stop what? Existing? Talking? Never! I've been locked in a dark, quiet room in your mind for eighteen whole years. Eighteen years of chatter saved up!'

"I'm definitely going crazy," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

I pushed myself up from the mattress, my bare feet hitting my fluffy slippers. I dragged myself out of my bedroom and stepped into the carpeted hallway.

My brother made amazing money through his business, working overseas. Because of that, we lived in a large, modern two-story house, not quite a sprawling mansion, but certainly spacious enough that my footsteps echoed softly as I walked down the long corridor toward the grand wooden staircase. On normal days, I loved how quiet the house felt. Today, the quiet only made the chatter inside my skull sound ten times louder.

'No, you're not crazy! And I'm guessing you don't know who I am,' the voice chimed in all at once.

"Please, just... give me five minutes of silence," I pleaded aloud to the empty hallway. I gripped the smooth wooden banister tightly with my right hand while using my left to rub my throbbing temples, slowly padding down the carpeted wooden steps toward the main floor.

'Five minutes? That's 300 seconds! What am I supposed to do for 300 full seconds? Tell me your life story! Why does your house smell weirdly clean? Are we going to eat soon? I'm starving!'

"To answer your first question," I said quickly, keeping my voice low as I reached the bottom step and cut across the polished tile floor of the foyer, heading toward the back of the house, "I don't know who you are."

The voice let out a gasp so sharp, loud, and high-pitched inside my mind that my hands flew up to clasp over my ears by sheer instinct. The sudden reaction threw off my footing, and I stumbled slightly on the smooth tile, my left shoulder bumping hard against the framed art on the hallway wall.

"Argghh," I hissed out in pain, wincing as my shoulder throbbed. "The heck? That was way too loud!" I snapped, pulling my hands away from my ears and glaring at the empty hallway, rolling my eyes in sheer annoyance.

'Sorry, not sorry!' the voice chirped back without a shred of actual remorse.

"Unbelievable," I huffed, shoving my hands deep into the pockets of my sweat shorts. I turned the corner and walked straight into the bright, open kitchen.

'You better believe it! Firstly, that wasn't a question. Secondly, about what you said, not knowing me? That hurts, you know. Waiting for eighteen whole years to be acknowledged by my human, only for her to not even know I exist!' the voice rambled on, sounding deeply offended now, like a toddler whose toy had been taken away.

I crossed the expansive kitchen toward the center island, picking up a clear glass sitting on the rack by the sink and giving it a quick rinse under the tap. Just as the cool water splashed against my hands and the basin, her tone flipped in a split second.

' That aside. So, what's for breakfast?'

"I'm not sure. I only came down for some chocolate drink," I said nonchalantly, turning off the faucet with a sharp twist and wiping my wet hands on the sides of my shorts before striding over to the oversized stainless-steel refrigerator. I grabbed the heavy chrome handle and pulled the door open, a cloud of cold air rushing out against my bare ankles and legs.

'Chocolate drink? Hmmm, that's delicious. But no way!'

"What do you mean, no way?" I asked, leaning against the cold fridge door, genuinely confused.

'I love chocolate drinks too! But there's no way we're having just chocolate for breakfast on our birthday. Tell me, are you a vegetarian? Please tell me you're not! If you're a vegetarian, I am going to throw a massive fit right here in your head.'

I rolled my eyes dramatically, reaching down into the crisp bottom drawer of the fridge. "I am not a vegetarian. That'll never happen, at least not until cars start flying," I muttered, a bit irritated as I pulled out a half-used pack of thick-cut bacon and a carton of eggs. "I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while, so this is pretty much all the solid food that's left."

'BACON!' the voice squealed, her mood instantly flipping back to pure, unadulterated joy. 'Yes! Real meat! Fry it! Fry the whole pack right now!'

"I'm cooking a few strips, not the whole pack. I'm on a diet," I corrected, setting the heavy cast-iron pan onto the stovetop and clicking the ignition burner on.

'Since you can't see me, I just face palmed myself. You're unbelievable' the voice said.

"We'll you better believe it" I answered as I pulled three thick strips of bacon from the package and tossed them onto the iron surface. Almost instantly, the quiet kitchen filled with a fierce, sizzling crackle, and the rich, mouth-watering scent of frying bacon grease drifted up into the air.

As I grabbed a wooden spatula from the utensil holder to flip the sizzling meat, I let out a long sigh. If I was going to be forced to listen to a voice in my head all morning, I needed real answers just to keep myself from calling an ambulance or checking into a clinic.

"Okay, look," I said, keeping my eyes locked on the pan to distract myself from how deeply insane it felt to talk to thin air. "If you're real, tell me who you are. What's your name?"

'Finally! A real conversation' the voice puffed up with immense pride, practically standing tall inside my mind. 'My name is Lyra. And I am your wolf.'

"My... wolf?" I raised an eyebrow, nudging a strip of curling bacon with the edge of my spatula. "Like a dog?" I scoffed.

'A DOG?!' Lyra gasped, sounding so deeply offended I could almost picture her bristling. 'I am a wild, majestic, deadly apex predator! I am half of your soul, Skylar! We are two parts of the exact same body. And once we bond properly, we can shift into a massive, gorgeous, real-life wolf!'

I paused, holding the spatula mid-air, staring flatly at the sizzling pan. "Right. Shifting into a giant wolf. Sure. I'm definitely having a full-blown nervous breakdown. Maybe I ate a bad sandwich yesterday."

'I am not a bad sandwich, Skylar!' Lyra huffed indignantly. 'I am REAL! Why won't you just listen to me?'

"Because ordinary people don't just turn into wild animals, Lyra!" I started yapping back, waving my spatula dramatically in the air as my frustration flared to the surface. "Wolves live in the woods! They're wild animals! Humans live in houses and pay bills! This is completely insane! I am losing my mind, I'm standing in my kitchen arguing with my own hallucinations while holding a greasy spatula, and—"

A sharp, pungent smell suddenly snapped me right out of my rant.

Dark, heavy black smoke was billowing up rapidly from the skillet, swirling toward the ceiling.

"Shoot! Shoot!" I yelped, panicking as I quickly turned off the gas burner and slid the heavy pan off the heat source.

The bacon was completely charred black, crisping into brittle ash right before my eyes. I began coughing, waving my hand frantically through the thick gray cloud of smoke to clear the air before the loud smoke alarm on the ceiling could trigger.

'Look what you did to the bacon!' Lyra whined in utter devastation, sounding like her heart had just been broken. 'That was pure murder! Delicious, crispy murder!'

"Shut up!" I groaned, setting the spatula down on the counter with a heavy clatter. I pressed both palms flat against the cold granite edge of the island, hanging my head and trying to catch my breath as the smoke cleared.

'You don't believe me,' Lyra said softly after a moment. Her hyperactive, dramatic tone vanished completely, dropping into a surprisingly quiet, serious tone that sent a strange shiver down my neck.

'Fine. But answer me this, Skylar. Didn't your brother ask you last night on the phone if you've been experiencing anything strange?' I froze. My hands gripped the cold granite edge of the counter a little tighter, my knuckles turning white.

'He asked you, didn't he?' Lyra pushed gently, her voice echoing in the back of my mind with unsettling, razor-sharp clarity. 'He knows something, Skylar. Why else would he ask if you felt weird, heard strange things right after midnight on your eighteenth birthday?'

I opened my mouth to argue, to brush her off with another sarcastic remark, but the words caught directly in my throat.

Max had asked. He had sounded dead serious, heavy with tension, like he was holding his breath waiting for a specific answer...

"What are you doing, Skylar?"