Page 2 of Shattered Fears

CHAPTER ONE

“There are people living in this world who aren’t what you perceive them to be. Underneath their human skins, they are animals. Wild beasts from stories of long ago and modern animals: wolves, dragons, lions, tigers, and bears. Savages seeking to destroy the human race as we know it. They walk amongst us. Some may even be here today, but we have no way of telling. They keep themselves hidden, waiting, ready to pounce and rip us to pieces. Are you one of these creatures? I dare you to show your true nature?”

The crowd went quiet, and everyone looked at their neighbor, watching to see if they’d change. Isobel knew better though. The people here wouldn’t alter their appearance. None of them were shifters: the people her father, up on the stage, was talking about. He had tried to whip the crowd, of about a thousand people, into a frenzy again, but it wouldn’t work. It never did. Nobody had ever shifted into animal form at one of these meetings. Sometimes, she wished they would, just to avoid the inevitable laughter that was about to come, leaving her father in a sullen mood for the rest of the evening. The irony of the whole situation was she knew for a fact that what her father said was true. There were people on the Earth who could change their shape and transform into a wild animal. She’d seen it with her own eyes. The man that she’d loved, from the time she knew what love was, had changed. He’d shifted into a beautiful black bear. He’d been mighty in stature, but she hadn’t been scared of him. Mind you, he wasn’t aware that she’d seen. Zain Thornton, her childhood sweetheart, disappeared shortly afterward, and she had never seen him again. There hadn’t been a day since then that she didn’t miss him; he was her first and only love.

“Come on, show yourselves.” Her father’s command broke into her memories. This is where she knew the laughter would start and, within minutes, it did. It was always the same. Her father was thought of as a joke, the insane senator who believed people could turn into wild animals. A part of her wanted to scream at them and tell them ‘it’s true’, but the other part was aware that now wasn’t the time to remonstrate with everyone about what she already knew.

“What have you been smoking?” a heckler called out.

“Don’t know, but if he’s seeing people change into lions, then I want some,” another chuckled.

“Why don’t you just focus on lowering the taxes that we have to pay?” A third raised his fist in the air and shook it at her father. Isobel looked toward him, his shoulders slumped, defeat etched in the lines of worry, marring his once youthful face. She loved her father; he was a good man. He was just misguided on this point, and it was aging him. He stepped down from the stage and came over to her.

“Let’s go.” His voice sounded downtrodden.

“Daddy.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

“I really thought one would show themselves, this time.”

“I know. Maybe you’ve got it wrong, and they won’t hurt us. What you say about them could make them too scared to reveal themselves.” It was an argument she’d put forward many times, now. She wanted her father to believe that shifters wouldn’t hurt humans.

“They’re wild animals in their hearts, Isobel. We can’t allow them to walk amongst us freely. They’re dangerous.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t argue with me.” Her father cut her off and stomped past her toward the car that was waiting for them. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

“Daddy.”

“No, Isobel, no more. I won’t rest until these animals are caged.”

They both climbed into the car, her father in the front, and she in the back. They had a driver for events like this who would take them home. The journey was made in silence. When they reach the manor house, assigned to them through her father’s job, she went straight up to her bedroom and crawled into bed. It was her safe place: the one place her mind could find calm when it was in turmoil, as it was right now. Before long, she fell asleep.

“Izzy stop squirming.” Zain pulled her tighter to his rigid body. His hands were over her eyes, and he was leading her somewhere. She wasn’t sure where.

“I can’t help it. I don’t like being unsure of my footing.”

“Trust me.”

“I do,” she whispered.

They stopped, and he removed his hands from her eyes.

“Ta-da,” he announced. “I hope you like it.”

The light flooded into her adjusting pupils, and a picnic in the middle of a field was revealed.

“You did this.”

He shrugged his massive six foot five frame. Despite being eighteen, he looked like a naughty little schoolboy.

“I had a little bit of help.”

“Your Mum?”

He nodded.

“I can make a sandwich. But, I’m afraid, if it involves an oven, I’m likely to either burn the food or myself.”

---