quietly as I could, trying not to encourage him to do more to me today. Men ran forward, likely wondering what was happening in their alpha's house. But none came further than the front door. I met their gazes as blood filled my mouth and leaked over my cracked bottom lip. Another kick to my belly had me choking on the thick fluid as tears fell from me eyes.
A few of the men looked away. Some whined, their wolves wishing to help me, the weakest of them all. But they wouldn't. I'd long ago given up hope that they'd rescue me. Most of them were a few decades older than me and had been here when things had started to go so very wrong. They hadn't helped me as a child, and I knew they'd do nothing to help me now. Especially since now I'd gone and done the unthinkable. I'd brought Shae back to him. Shae was the only wolf I'd ever cared about, and now I'd lured her out of hiding. I closed my eyes and let the tears fall freely.
I cried for the child I was, broken and bleeding in a room upstairs after the first time my alpha had pulled me to him. I wept for the son I'd brought into this world, a life that had grown inside of me and that I'd sworn to protect, knowing that by letting him live I'd already likely let him down. And for Shae I shed the most tears, because as a child her only choice had been to run. I should have let her keep running, as I knew that my alpha wouldn't make the same mistake with her now that she was an adult. He'd kill her, I was sure of it. And I'd knowingly brought her to her death.
I was still crying when my alpha left me there in the kitchen with blood pooling around my mouth. My wolf had long retreated from the scene, and the seer had left me as well. In that silence, I heard him joking to the men that had stayed to watch, and I closed my eyes as, for once, they didn't take him up on his offer where I was concerned.
Chapter Six
Shae
It took me nearly three days to arrive at the sleepy little mountain town of Elderthorne. Though not much had changed, I took note of the differences in the trees. They helped to remind me that I'd been away. That coming back wasn't permanent. I wouldn't be staying long; just enough to make sure that Maiki was all right and hopefully convince her to leave with me this time. She'd turned me down a decade before. I hoped she wouldn't do it again today.
The wolf took a breath and placed her paw on the base of a nearly white Aspen tree, glowing against the early dawn. I wasn't a child anymore. I wasn't running away. My wolf couldn't understand this thought as she continued trotting along the side of the road. It wasn't the safest way to travel, but my wolf wanted to see the differences as much as I did. She sent me pictures of what it had been like. I didn't need them—I remembered this place too. But it helped me put together what she was thinking as she gave me an image of a house as it once was along with what it was now. She remembered the pain we'd been through here, though in a very different fashion. I remembered the words, the scars that they'd left on my mind and heart. The wolf was far more tactile and focused on the feeling of fists and feet on her fur, of teeth on her neck and the taste of blood on her tongue.
Admittedly, that last bit wasn't completely uncommon. Even now the acrid taste lingered on my lips from the rabbit I'd eaten for dinner the night before. The wolf was thankful to be let out, in her own way. It wasn't in so many words, not like I would have expressed the feeling. But it was there all the same. The wolf is faster, stronger, and far less bulky than I am. I protested, thinking about clothing and my phone, both things we'd left behind at the cabin. The wolf paid no attention to the images of human things that I sent her, things I knew I could go without but that I'd grown accustomed to. But we were here to do one thing, and after that we'd be gone again.
I sent my wolf a feeling and watched in her mind to see what she thought. It took her a
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