“Yours?”
It’s amazing how much my heart hurts. Again.
“No, I’m not. I’m human, remember? I don’t belong to this pack, and I certainly don’t belong to you.”
Rafe stands, towering over me. His eyes blaze with amber fire, his wolf is fighting for control. He steps forward, and I step back, only for the wall to hit my back.
“You are mine,”
he insists, resting a hand on the wall beside my head.
“You’re just angry with me. It’s okay, Gracie. I understand. I get it. I hurt you.”
He lifts a hand, brushing it against my jaw in a whisper-soft caress that has my stomach churning.
This is not the Rafe I loved.
He wasn’t stupid like this. He cared about my feelings. My thoughts. He wanted me to be true to myself. He loved me for me.
He didn’t ever claim to own me.
“Please leave.”
My demands downgrade to pleas.
“I just want to be left alone. If Ellie finds out you’re here-“
“She won’t find out,”
he breathes, his eyes drawn to my lips.
“We’ll keep it quiet. I promise I won’t let you get hurt, Grace.”
“Rafe, she’s not stupid. She’ll know-“
He swoops in to kiss me, but I get my hand between our lips just in time. My heart races at the anger darkening his eyes, even as his hand strokes my cheek in a gentle caress.
“It’s okay, Gracie. I’ll make it okay. We can still be together in the end. I know I said things that hurt you, but it was all in the hunting haze.”
He presses his lips against my hand, in soft, sensual kisses that only make my skin crawl.
“I made a mistake, Grace. But I’m going to get you back. You’ll see. You were meant for me.”
* * *
Rafe eventually leaves.
And I shower, because his touch leaves me feeling filthy.
Which, of course, means Margo screams at me for being a filthy laze-about, then sends me back to the main lodge to continue work on the garden, despite having had only a couple hours of sleep.
In short? Rafe ruined my entire day, all to steal a few kisses behind his precious mate’s back.
Instead of heading to the garden, like Margo demands, I sneak back into my room to pack the few things I now have. But a girl needs clothes. And shoes that fit. And food.
Those aren’t in my room.
The kitchen is too busy, so I can’t steal food from there. But there’s a mini pantry on each floor, filled with simple things like graham crackers, water bottles, and beef jerky.
I’ve stolen a few things from them before, but Margo caught me with empty wrappers on the first day. I never tried to take snacks again.
This time? I don’t care. I have a large backpack (which, I admit, I stole from someone’s room) and I fill it with as much as I can. There’s even a machete (also stolen from someone’s room). I do have to sneak around to avoid Margo, but I score a pair of shoes (yes, stolen from someone’s room). They fit better than what I was given… because they’re my shoes, given away to a random omega, all to show me how little I mean to the pack.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I slip out of the omega lodge. The weight of the stolen backpack feels like an anchor, threatening to drag me back into the hell I’m desperate to escape. Each step away from the building sends a jolt of adrenaline through my veins.
Surely someone will stop me. A hand will grab my shoulder, or Margo’s shrill voice will cut through the air. But nothing happens.
The forest looms ahead.
I don’t bother trying to hide my trail. What’s the point? They’re wolves. They’ll catch my scent no matter what I do. Instead, I stick to the well-worn path, my stolen shoes-my shoes-carrying me deeper into the forest.
The plan, if you can call it that, is simple. Follow the trail until I reach the river, then use the water to mask my scent. It’s not foolproof, but it’s all I’ve got. My real hope lies in the chaos back at the pack. With the Lycan King’s impending arrival, maybe they won’t notice I’m gone until it’s too late.
Leaving is an impulsive decision, obviously. But I can’t stay.
I’ll die there. Either from a jealous mate, or overwork, or unchecked bullying by angry wolves. And, if Rafe doesn’t stop whatever delusions he’s on, I’m going to end up violated with more than a stolen kiss.
The forest air fills my lungs, crisp and clean. It should feel like freedom, but all I taste is fear. What am I doing? Where am I going? The questions swirl in my mind, threatening to overwhelm me.
No money. No real plan. Just a backpack full of stolen goods and a desperate need to escape. The thought of finding some sort of help in the city is a thin thread of hope I cling to.
The trail winds through the trees, familiar yet suddenly alien. How many times had I walked this path with Rafe? The memory of his touch, once comforting, now makes my skin crawl. I push the thought away, focusing on the sound of my footsteps and the rustle of leaves overhead.
A twig snaps somewhere to my left. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. Is this it? Have they found me already? I strain my ears, listening for the telltale sound of wolf paws on forest floor.
Nothing.
Just a squirrel, scampering up a nearby tree. I let out a shaky breath, forcing my legs to move again.
The beam of my flashlight flickers, casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. My heart skips a beat. Not now. Please, not now. I tap the plastic casing, and the light steadies.
Thank God.
A gust of wind whips through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine. The temperature’s dropping fast. I fumble with my backpack, fishing out the extra sweater I’d snagged from the omega lodge. It smells of mothballs and desperation, but it’s warm. I pull it over my head, grateful for the added layer.
My stomach rumbles painfully with hunger. I’ve sipped at water and snacked on jerky through the day, but my supplies are finite. I can’t eat them too quickly.
I tear off a small piece of jerky with my teeth, chewing slowly. Like it’s gum.
One foot in front of the other. That’s all I can focus on now. My legs ache, muscles screaming for rest. My blisters tore open miles ago. But I can’t stop. Not yet. I need to reach humans.
The river’s behind me, its rushing waters a distant memory. I pray it’s enough to throw them off my scent. Not forever-I’m not stupid enough to hope for that. I just need time.
Margo’s probably realized I’m gone by now. The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me. Will they come looking? Part of me hopes they will. That someone, anyone, cares enough to wonder where I’ve gone.
But that’s the old Grace talking. The one who still believed she belonged. I know better now.
“Let them forget about me,”
I mutter, though the words are bitter on my tongue.
“It’s what they’ve always wanted, anyway.”
Okay, yeah. I’m feeling a little sorry for myself, but it isn’t all hopeless.
The irony isn’t lost on me. A week ago, the idea of being forgotten would have shattered me. Now? It might be my only chance at freedom.
Each step takes me further from the home I’ve had for years. It would be a lie to say I have confidence in surviving with humans. I’m not even sure how things work in the human world anymore.
The forest grows denser, the trees closing in around me. My tiny flashlight barely penetrates the gloom. Shadows dance at the edge of my vision, playing tricks on my exhausted mind.
A branch scrapes across my cheek, drawing blood. I wince, touching the spot gingerly. It stings, a sharp reminder of how ill-equipped I am for this journey. What was I thinking? I’m no survivalist. Just a human girl, alone in a world of wolves.
Had I known this day would come, I would have slacked off a lot less in training. Though, no one ever expected me out on some sort of survival-level mission, so maybe it wouldn’t have helped that much.
My foot catches on a root, sending me sprawling. The flashlight flies from my hand, clattering against a rock. The light flickers once, twice, then dies. Darkness engulfs me.
“No, no, no,”
I whisper, scrambling on hands and knees. My fingers brush against the cold plastic, and I shake it frantically. The light flickers back on, sending a rush of shaky relief through my limbs.
Unlike wolves, I can’t see in the dark.
I need this light.
Something clatters to my left and I freeze.
My eyes dart around, searching for movement in the inky darkness beyond my flashlight’s beam.
Nothing.
Probably just a rabbit. Or another squirrel. I force myself to exhale slowly, willing my racing heart to calm. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and it takes root quickly in the fertile soil of my fear.
I start walking again, my pace a touch quicker than before.
A rustle in the underbrush to my right. I whip my head around, the beam of light dancing wildly across the forest floor.
Again, nothing. But the prickling sensation at the base of my neck intensifies.
You’re being paranoid, Grace. No one’s following you. They don’t care enough to bother.
The thought should be comforting, but it only twists the knife of loneliness deeper.
An owl hoots in the distance, the sound carrying clearly through the still night air. I jump, a small yelp escaping my lips before I can stop it. The noise seems to echo, bouncing off the trees and coming back to mock me.
Pathetic.
I grit my teeth, anger flaring hot in my chest.
“Get it together,”
I mutter to myself.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.