half, but it’s the only way. After the Flux, my wolf will have to answer to her alpha, whether Burke claims her for a mate or not, and I can’t willingly subject myself or her to that life.
Bypassing the other pack houses, I skirt around the edge of the forest, my internal compass pointing me back home. The scent of pine trees fills my senses, wet needles and damp soil breathing out into the air like nature is exhaling with me.
With trudging steps, I reach my dark and quiet house and head to my room, where I pass out in bed almost as soon as my head hits the pillow. It’s a choppy, troubled sleep, filled with dreams of a wolf crying at a moonless sky, lost and wandering in the spirit world.
I wake up several hours later with sore, swollen eyes, like all the pent-up emotion has clogged them with unshed tears. Guilt tugs at my chest at the dream of my wolf spirit out there somewhere knowing I’m abandoning her, knowing that she’s going to come down during the ceremony and not find me there waiting for her.
I’m sorry.
I shove the regret aside and force myself to go through the motions. Showering again, I get dressed in jeans and a gray shirt, feet slipping into socks and worn-in sneakers. While my long brown hair air dries, I grab a backpack from my closet and begin to roll up carefully chosen clothes. Jeans, drab T-shirts, plenty of socks and underwear, nothing bright, everything as plain as possible so as not to draw attention.
Toiletries go in next, and in no time, my bag is near bursting. I grab a waterproof jacket and consider the phone on my nightstand but decide against it. The last thing I want to do is make it easier for Burke to track me. Besides, who do I have to call anyway?
For no other reason than it’s been hammered into me since I was little, I find myself making my bed, straightening my pillows, and tucking in my sheets, just the way my mom insisted. “Life can be messy, Seneca, so make sure the bed you lie in isn’t.”
A sad smile quirks my lips as I step back, and then with my shoulder straps tugged tight around me, I walk out, forcing myself to head toward the door at the opposite end of the hallway. My fingers trail over the wainscotting, the family pictures hanging up above, covering nearly every inch of available wall. It’s like walking past paused memories that were once happy but now just feel haunting. When I get to the closed door, I have to take a steadying breath before I’m able to open it and walk inside.
I’m immediately hit with my mom’s scent, and it chokes me with sorrow so visceral that my hand comes up to cradle my throat. It’s as though I can feel the rope of a grieving noose wrapped there. It takes me several gulps of air before I can push away from the doorway and walk to my mom’s dresser.
She didn’t wear jewelry or perfume or scarves or anything like that, but she did have a favorite two-piece hair pin that she always used to sweep up the front pieces of her hair when she needed it out of her way. The cuff and smooth stick are both waiting right here where I knew they would be. I grab them, fingers rubbing over the hand carved wood that’s been polished from years of wear, a rose at the end of the pin stick, and delicate leaves carved into the cuff.
Reaching up, I secure the two front layers of my hair with them and pin them back, feeling stronger for it. Then I dig into her bottom dresser drawer where I know she kept some money. Not much, just a few hundred dollars, her just in case stash, she called it.
It’s enough to get out of Twin Rivers territory. After that… Well, after that, I’ll get a job, find a place to live with humans, and hope Burke doesn’t ever find me.
I walk out of my mom’s room, letting myself look back once, allowing myself to breathe in her scent just one more time. Then I’m down the hall and out of the house. I move casually into the surrounding trees, listening carefully for any signs that I’m being followed. I wouldn’t put it past Burke to put a guard or two on me, not because he