thinks I’ll run, but just so that he knows where I am at all times. Controlling bastard.
I figure if anyone is on my tail, I can lose them in here, but as I move silently, listening to everything all around me, I don’t hear anyone. It’s probably all-hands-on-deck in preparation for the Flux ceremony and the Spirit Weaver that will be arriving today, which is good for me. I waste no time in taking advantage and sprint in the direction of the nearest human town, away from my pack and my home...forever.
The treeline stops just a couple miles out of the town of Hillsend, and I feel like a jumpy fox as I traverse the flat land between the forest and where houses start to pop up sporadically. I pass the ranches and farms of people who have worked this land for generations, some of whom still tell stories of my people and their reclusive, secretive ways.
Most people think we’re like the Amish and that’s why we keep our distance. Some think we’re some cult that started in Eastern Europe and migrated over here due to persecution—that rumor is a personal favorite. And then there are those who suspect we’re something else but say nothing. We’re the fuel for scary stories told around dimming fires or late at night amongst a group of friends. The tales of the wolves that roam these woods for hundreds of miles is the stuff of legends, but most people never even think to see the connection. There’s no room for magic and mystery in their lives, so my pack exists right under their noses, exactly the way we like it.
I jog down the two-lane road that leads into town, though I slow to a walk so I can look as casual as possible whenever I hear a car approaching. Each time I hold my breath until it passes, hoping that it won’t be someone from the pack. We usually only come into town to buy or sell supplies, and I’m counting on the fact that all of that was done earlier in the week.
Soon, the intermittently placed homes begin to morph into neighborhoods as I get closer to the heart of town. I wish the bus depot wasn’t on the opposite side, but I’ll just have to hurry and hope there’s something going out within the hour. So far, this couldn’t have gone any smoother than it already has, but there’s no need to tempt fate. Deciding to play it safe, I skirt the center of town, even though it’ll add more time getting to my destination. I work my way through the less populated areas rather than walk on the busy streets. Fingers crossed, I’ll be on a bus in no time, never to look back again.
My heart aches at the thought.
I never in my life thought I’d be doing this. I’ve been planning for my wolf since forever, thinking I was safe in the shadow of my mother and what she meant to the pack. The weight of what I’m doing, what I’m leaving, is crushing, but I know it’s what I have to do. I exhale a resigned sigh and tuck my thumbs in the straps of my bag. I round a corner, my gaze tracing the cracks in the pavement as I calibrate myself for the new life I’m walking toward, when a squealing voice calls my name.
“Senecaaaa! I didn’t know you were coming!” Trinity White calls out, and my head snaps up to find no less than ten females spilling out of a pack van on the side of the road.
My breathing stops and my heart stutters for a beat before picking up and kicking into high gear.
Shit. What are they doing here?
I look around the neighborhood of houses, like I’m making sure I didn’t circle back to pack land, because I can’t for the life of me understand why they’re here of all places.
This is what I get for thinking everything was going so smoothly. Why do I have such horrible luck?
The gaggle of females gather on the sidewalk, most of them talking excitedly, looking over at the two-story house in front of them. That is, until they spotted me. The jubilant chatter slowly dies off as looks of empathy and prudence fill their gazes.
“I am so glad you decided to come, this is exactly what you need! Get out of the house, let loose, and let go of the funk you’ve been in,” Trinity declares, as though