Wow, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews you left for the last chapter! They really do make me grin like a total idiot when I see them pop up on my laptop screen! (: I just want to let you know that I may take a break from watching "Teen Wolf", as I feel that the plot has grown a little tired and Jeff Davis seems to have this habit of creating new characters and creatures without actually developing the ones he already has. So, as this story continues, you may find some slight changes. Also, we are finally coming up to a scene that I'm fairly positive you all have been (somewhat) patiently waiting for, so I hope you enjoy this! Without further ado, here is the next installment of "Howl":

Favorite Line:

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Isaac squinted out the windshield, barely able to see through the glaring late-afternoon sunlight and his eternal exhaustion. The radio clock clicked to 4:06, the only movement Isaac had noticed since he had parked Derek's Camaro nearly two hours ago. Jane's apartment complex lay, silent and still, right across the street; barely anyone had entered or left the building since Isaac had arrived, and the ones who had looked perfectly ordinary. There was no one out of place, no one who drew attention to themselves or seemed to be purposefully avoiding it. In fact, the only person who looked suspicious on the whole street was Isaac himself, who had not moved from the black car once.

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. It was a ridiculously hot day, the first one of the year it seemed. Even with the air conditioning positively cranked, the heat was continuing to creep into the car. It wrapped around Isaac like a warm blanket, soothing his fears and worries and tenderly caressing his cheek, beckoning him to give in to his desires and float away into some much-needed sleep. But, every time his eyelids would grow heavy and he could feel himself starting to give in, he would roughly shake himself and sit up in the driver's seat, reminding himself that he had a job to do. Even if it felt completely hopeless….

Repeating his sigh, Isaac crossed his arms over his chest and trying to think about something else besides how utterly exhausted he was. His thoughts eventually drifted to Jane herself, and how he still couldn't believe what a twisted past she had kept hidden. She had seemed so normal—Isaac had always assumed that Derek was what had jarred her from her ordinary life. However, it seemed that Jane, like everyone else, had some powerful secrets that had eventually caught up to her. He thought of that one day back at the warehouse, when Jane had brought over those supplies, seemingly not expecting anything in return. She had just wanted to help, with that big, beaming smile stretched across her face…

Isaac abruptly smashed his shaking fist into the leather steering wheel, a hot wave of fury passing over him so quickly that he could barely contain it. He should be out there, trying to find Jane or at least actually doing something useful. There was no point in him just sitting here in front of Jane's apartment, waiting to get a call from Derek or McCall that something had happened, that Jane had been found or that Kohler had ended up being a dead end. Anything would be better than twiddling his thumbs while everyone else ran around searching for her. Derek was wrong this time—there was no point to this.

Resolute now, Isaac went to roll up his window, already trying to think up what he was going to tell Derek when he saw him. Obviously the Alpha wouldn't be thrilled that he had gone against his wishes, but he would have to see that he had a point. Isaac was so caught up in his brainstorming that he nearly missed the black SUV pulling into a parking spot right in front of Jane's apartment building.

Frowning as he tried to figure out why this had caught his attention, Isaac watched as a man dressed in a suit stepped out of the car. Considering it was over eighty degrees outside, he couldn't help but wonder how the man wasn't boiling in the heavy, black suit. However, the man barely seemed to notice, his short, graying hair glinting in the sunshine as he slammed his car door shut and strode into the building. Isaac immediately picked up on the glance over his shoulder, as if he was concerned of some curious eyes taking him in…

Isaac's fingers twitched on the warm leather of the gear shift, his foot tapping impatiently as he waited and waited. His skin was crawling, the pale thin hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he glared through the window straight at the front door of the building. He wasn't leaving, not yet—something about this was just too…off for him to drive away just yet. Deep in the back of his mind, he was positive he had seen this man before, but he couldn't quite remember just where or how. Minute after minute ticked by as he waited for the man to return. Somewhere in the middle of that time Isaac considered using his phone to give Derek a call, to inform him of what he had just seen. But, as the man emerged about fifteen minutes after he had parked his SUV, something stopped Isaac.

A light blue backpack was slung over the man's suit jacket-clad shoulder, contrasting so poorly with the rest of his attire that anyone would probably have blatantly stared, had they been there to witness it. Instead, it was just Isaac who was forced to watch as the man, after tossing the backpack into the passenger seat, slipped back into the SUV and drove off.

This time, Isaac didn't hesitate—he put the Camaro in gear and, after counting to ten, carefully followed the SUV. Any idea of calling Derek was erased from his mind—the only thought that he could focus on was that, for the first time, he was doing exactly what Derek told him to—following his instincts.

White…White…White…

I repeated in a soft whisper deep within my head, even aloud several times just to help wrap my drowsy head around it. Even as I drifted into a restless sleep for a couple hours, I could still hear my tired chant within the depths of my mind—White…White…White.

It had been him. All along, it had been Roger White who had slaughtered all of those women, it had been Roger White who had left their mangled bodies for the Portland Police Department to find them, it had been Roger White who had offered his services to my father and promised to help bring this murderer to justice. It had been Roger White who had murdered my father, who had left him alone to die in the darkness, alone. It had been White who had followed me to Beacon Hills, who had planned and waited and planned and waited until he found the opportune moment to snatch me up, to finish his plan.

And it had all been for the last person I had expected—my mother.

Nausea swept over me, waking me from my light slumber as the realization of everything White had told me hit me like a pile of bricks. I struggled to not think about it, to not let it completely take over my entire mind. Each time I closed my eyes, I could practically still see White standing before me, his manically gleaming in the fluorescent light streaming down over his head. He seemed to take a strange joy in my squeamishness at his blunt words, even when I pleaded with him to stop, to stop telling me. But, like he said, I had begged him for an explanation—sometimes you just don't want what you actually ask for.

A door slammed open, jarring me from dozing off as the heavy door reverberated off of the wall parallel to it. I didn't even have to squint through the darkness to know that it was White who had returned to me—I had slowly begun to give up hope that anyone would ever stumble across me. White was an FBI agent—no matter how quickly he seemed to be unravelling, he would always know how to efficiently cover his tracks.

Abruptly a switch had been flipped and bright, white light flooded my senses. I gasped out, my eyes screaming in pain as they hastened to adjust to the sudden change of surroundings. Quickly I ducked my head down, tucking my chin into my chest as I slowly squinted through my shut eyelids, listening as footsteps hurried towards me. I shifted in my chair, wincing as my bindings lightly pressed into my wounded wrists. White's tangled, incoherent muttering brushed against my ears, but I struggled to ignore it, instead focusing on finding a way to see again.

Just as I was finally able to blink past the clusters of stars gathering in my vision, a pair of hands tenderly cupped my smeared cheeks. White's face suddenly swam before mine, steely gray eyes baring right down into mine as he seemed to be carefully studying my face, as if he was meticulously memorizing each and every piece of me. I shuddered under his touch, tears welling as I realized just what he may be considering.

"Oh, don't cry, Jane," whispered White as his right hand slipped from my cheek and slowly drifted down my neck. "This isn't over, not by a long shot. I just wanted to make sure I got one last look at you. So afraid, so innocent, so sweet. But that will all be different soon, just you wait."

White's left hand released my cheek and, in the blink of an eye, a long knife was staring back at me. I gasped out, desperately and incoherently pleading with him to just stop, to please let me go one last time. But White simply ignored me, instead smiling almost amusedly and the tip of the knife pressed down into the collar of my sweatshirt. It began to split through the thick cotton, tearing away the material and allowing my bare skin to be assaulted by the cold air. I was frozen with fear, unable to move as I tearfully watched as the tip of the knife inched closer and closer to the top of my breasts. I had one last chance to stop him, to scare him from doing this. Without hesitating, I whispered to him, "Derek will kill you when he finds me. When he sees what you've done to me, he won't hesitate to rip you in half."

"Oh, Jane," chuckled White as his own eyes gleefully followed the knife's slow progress. "That's if he can ever find you."

Without another word, he was suddenly wrenched away from me, his shouts of surprise immediately muted by a low growl. Fear abruptly gripped my heart, forcing me to clamp my eyes shut and praying that this just wasn't another dream. I had envisioned this happening so many times since White had bound me to that wooden chair, especially when I had dozed off, dried tears cementing my eyelids shut. I would always see Derek or my uncle, or even my father a couple times, coming and stealing me away, each of them promising to keep me safe from the rest of the world. But, every time I opened my eyes, all I was able to find was darkness patiently waiting for me, or even White himself, those steely gray eyes glinting maliciously as he lowly chuckled at my naivety.

The sensation of warm, trembling fingers caressing my face caused me to flinch away, whimpering as I realized that it had just been another false dream, that my torture would only begin once more. But then the fingers slipped away and fell to my wrists, still tightly, painfully bound behind me back. Again, a whimper slipped from the back of my throat, deepening into a gasp as they clumsily stumbled upon the deep slices of my bloody, puckered skin. I faintly heard a whispered apology, as if White had suddenly stumbled upon his ability to hold compassion, and then my restraints were torn away. Unrelenting cold air rushed to my freed wrists, the burning nothing compared to the immense relief that rushed through me.

"Jane, Jane," that same voice whispered, different now from White's. It was youthful and anxious, with a touch of familiarity that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Out of sheer wanting more than anything else, I groaned, "Derek," without thinking. But, deep down, I knew it wasn't him—this person's touch was different, hesitant but still careful. Even as he gently picked me up out of the chair and tenderly placed me back on my feet, I told myself that this wasn't Derek who had saved me, but it wasn't White either, and that was made me fearfully grip at their arms when they went to let me go.

"Jane," again he said and I finally forced myself to open my eyes.

Isaac's face was floating right before mine, his wide, sky blue eyes so wonderfully familiar that I nearly cried out in happiness. It was him, he had found me, I was safe, I could go home, I could see my family, I could see Derek—all these thoughts rushed through my mind so quickly, so suddenly that tears welled up in my eyes and I nearly laughed in amazement at how suddenly the tables had turned. "Isaac," I rasped out, my throat so painfully dry that my voice sounded like a croak.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," said Isaac, grinning so goofily that I couldn't help but weakly return it.

"I think I have to disagree," I replied, wincing at how feeble my voice sounded. Remembering just what type of situation we were in, I nervously glanced all around us. "Where's White? Where is he?"

Furrowing his brow for just a second, Isaac hurriedly said with a jerk of his head, "He's knocked out—I hit his head on that wall over there. We have to get you out of here before he wakes up. Derek and I will deal with him later—"

"No, no, no," I mumbled, my eyes following his line of sight and stumbling upon White's slumped over body. "It has to be the police, they have to be the ones who find him. He knows, he knows, he can tell them—"

"Why—"

"He knows where they are," I cut him off, widely staring up at Isaac now. "All the bodies, the ones that the police could never find. He knows where they all are—he can bring closure to all those families, to all those cases. He can't die, not yet."

Isaac frowned, clearly not thrilled with my reasoning. But I didn't care—I'd convince him, I'd convince Derek not to lay a hand on him yet. He'd have to believe me. Just the thought of seeing him again caused my knees to nearly give out, and Isaac hurriedly steadied me before I collapsed. "I have to get you out of here," he said resolutely. "We'll deal with that guy later, okay? Right now I need to get you home."

Home. Oh how that word sounded so sweet. My eyelids fluttered shut, desperate to keep my tears of happiness at bay. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment that I had been so sure would never ever come. "Thank you," I whispered to Isaac, to my father watching over me, to everyone. "Thank you."

Just as Isaac motioned to sweep me high up into his arms, a low, guttural laugh slipped past us from that shadowy, damp corner that I had been so ready to escape from. My shoulders stiffened, eyes wide with pure fear as I reluctantly tore my gaze away from Isaac and turned back to White's slumped over body. He was weakly pushing himself up, dark eyes narrowed directly at the two of us. His suit, normally so pristine, was covered in dust and rumpled, such a sharp contrast from the man I had met almost a year ago. Blood seeped from a cut on his temple and dripped dangerously close to his right eye, but he ignored it, too focused on other matters at hand.

"I should've known, Jane," he continued to chuckle until it died in the back of his throat. "I should have known that it would never be that easy to keep you all to myself. But, I can promise you that this isn't the end. This will never end."

A low, protective growl coiled in the back of Isaac's throat as his grip on me tightened, but I shook my head at both him and White. I went to take a shaky step towards the heavy door that I had been staring at ever since the latter had brought me here, but White's next words stalled my steps.

"You should've heard your father's pleading for your life," spat White, angrily wiping the blood out of his right eye. "So pathetic. 'Please, just leave Jane alone. Let her live.' I've never seen a more wretched, pitiful sight—your mother deserved better than that scum. He died how he's always deserved to die—alone and in the dark."

White hot fury raced through my veins; my entire body trembled, shaking fists wanting nothing more to find their way to White's smirking face. Silently I turned on my heel and took a couple tentative steps towards White, making sure that he could see the thin, hard line my mouth had become and the harsh glare directed straight down at him.

"My father was a better man than you could ever even dream to be," I icily said to him. "I'll always have my memories of him to remind me of that. That is why my mother chose him and why, if she was given the chance again, she would always choose him. She loved him, more than she could ever love a sociopath like you."

Resolutely I turned my back to White, ignoring the look of hatred flitting through his eyes as he squinted up at me. "Come on, Isaac," I told him breathlessly, wincing as my wrists brushed against one another as I instinctively went to wring them anxiously. "Let's get out of here."

Just as Isaac agreed, I went to glance over my shoulder, just so I could get a glimpse of White for one last time, alone and stuck in the shadows. But, as a glint of metal caught my eye, my entire body froze for just a moment before everything else happened in a blur. With all my strength I shoved Isaac to the side, just as the shot rang out in the huge room. The sound resounded off all of the walls, shrieking in my ears and nearly deafening me in the process. I blankly stared at White, whose gun, ankle holster now empty, was pointed straight at me. His eyes were wide, manic, and that was the last I saw of him before Isaac was on top of him, furious roars resounding all around me. Inch by inch my eyes slipped down to my shoulder, where blood was slowly pooling out and dripping down my bare skin. That deep, crimson red was the final sight I had before my eyes rolled back into my head and I collapsed to the floor. The rest was simply that all-too-familiar darkness.

So, yes, that is the end of this chapter. I know, I know, I'm evil. Thank you all for reading and don't forget to leave a review!