4
968 Words
Chapter 4 — Mira
I didn't go back to my seat.
I couldn't. The thought of walking back through all those people, all those faces that had just watched Celia put me on the ground twice, made my stomach turn. So I found a bench at the far end of the square, close to the exit, and I sat there alone and watched the rest of the competition from a distance.
My ribs ached with every breath. I pressed my hand against my side and tried to breathe shallow. Cracked, probably. Maybe worse. With my powers stripped I healed slowly, nowhere near the rate a wolf my age should. Ten days before I would even start to feel like myself again. And by the time I reached full strength it would be another full moon and Celia would come and take it all back.
Every month. The same cycle. She drained me, I recovered, she drained me again.
She used dark magic to do it. Forbidden among wolves. Going to the Mages for help was unthinkable, a line no wolf was supposed to cross. Celia had crossed every line there was and kept walking. My father looked the other way. The servants kept their mouths shut because they knew what happened to people who didn't. And I stayed quiet because I had seen what he did when I didn't.
The crowd erupted again. I looked up.
Celia had just taken down her second opponent. She shook her hair back and smiled at the noise, turning slowly so she could take it in from every angle.
Then the last name was called and something loosened in my chest just a little.
Alpha Jack walked onto the fighting ground.
He was the youngest Alpha the pack had ever had. His father was killed by Rogues years ago and Jack had slaughtered every single one of them that same night, alone, in a grief so large it became something else entirely. Nobody had challenged him since. Even my father, who respected almost no one, respected Jack.
I watched him move and let myself imagine, just for a moment, the way I always did when I saw him. What it would feel like to have a mate like that. Someone who would stand between me and the things that hurt me. Someone whose name would make people step back instead of step forward.
If I had a mate like Jack I would never have to be afraid again.
Celia came at him the way she came at everyone, loud and aggressive and confident. It wasn't enough. It was never enough against him. Same as last year. Same as the year before.
He put her on the ground and held his hand to her throat and the crowd went wild.
The look on her face when she lost was the best thing I had seen all day.
After that I stopped paying attention. The celebration blurred into noise and movement and I sat at my bench and waited for it to be over. When the gates finally opened I stood up slowly, one hand on my ribs, and made my way toward the exit.
I almost made it.
Keelin appeared in the gateway with her arm stretched across it, blocking me. Celia's best friend. Same flat smile Celia always wore.
"Hi loser."
I didn't answer. I tried to duck under her arm and she dropped it before I could get through.
"I'm talking to you."
"I don't have anything to say to you, Keelin."
Then hands hit my back from behind and I lurched forward into Keelin who shoved me straight back. I stumbled and Celia stepped aside at exactly the right moment and I went down hard on the ground again.
I sat up slowly. Every part of me hurt.
"Such a loser," Keelin said.
I got to my feet and Celia tipped her glass over my head. The alcohol ran into the cuts on my face and I pressed my eyes shut against the burn. When I opened them a small crowd nearby was laughing.
I pushed my wet hair back and walked out through the gate.
"Don't wet the bed tonight!" Celia called after me. "You stress the servants enough already!"
More laughter.
I kept walking and didn't look back.
She had been telling people that story for years. That I was unstable. Strange. That I had problems nobody wanted to be around. Most of the pack believed it because my father kept me home and they rarely saw me, and the ones who might have known better were too afraid of him to say so.
I didn't wait for my father to drive us back. I just walked.
The night air was cold and my clothes were soaked and I was so tired I could feel it in my teeth. After about ten minutes I looked up and saw the house ahead.
I stopped at the front door and put my hand on the knob and then took it back.
Not yet.
There was a small stretch of forest behind the house. I had been going there for years whenever I needed to breathe. Just trees and grass and sky and no one who wanted anything from me.
I walked around and down the slope and sat in the grass at the edge of the trees. I tipped my head back and looked up. The night was clear now, the storm long gone, the moon still fat and bright overhead.
I just needed a few minutes. Then I would go in. Then I would deal with all of it.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Something moved in the dark between the trees. Not an animal. The shape was wrong. Too upright. Too still.
Someone was standing there watching me.
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