07

« Oh, I’m sorry for assuming, » the woman apologizes and looks to the other, and the other nods in agreement. « Here, let me fetch you something. »

I step back and watch her whip up something, letting her really apologize. It is weird to watch someone else make you food, especially when you don’t feel deserving of it. All I did was somehow be mated to an Alpha, and suddenly people are cooking for me.

I sit down with the other woman at the table.

« Did you meet at the gathering ? I heard we were going over to the Waters Pack for it. »

« Yes, we did, » I fib, not wanting to explain the entire embarrassing and anticlimactic exchange.

« I’m sure you’re family must be very proud that you’re mated to an Alpha and all. I only dreamed of such things when I was your age, » the woman says, and I have the urge to tell her that it’s not what it seems, that I won’t be here for long, and that Alpha Grant doesn’t actually want me here.

« Yes, my mother was very happy with it, » I lie again, not knowing if I should completely remake myself or not. « I was actually supposed to call her later, do you know where a phone is ? »

« Yes, there’s one in the living room. »

We continue to talk about the discovery of my mate and how excited I am, and it tears me apart. I want to run up to my room and wish to teleport back home, back to where I know who I am and what is supposed to happen.

Once eating, the other woman joins in the conversation and I feel as if I am drowning. How’s your bedroom ? Do you like it ? Are you excited to sleep in the same bed soon ? I remember when I started sharing a room with my mate. How many children are you hoping for ? Have you meant Alpha Grants Beta, Will ? Is there anything specific you would like for dinner tomorrow, anything special from home ? I can fetch you toiletries and towels and such if you’d like a shower. When do you expect to move into his bedroom ? Will your family be visiting ? Do you plan on visiting them ? Do you have any siblings ? Are you feeling well, you look ill ?

« I’m fine, » I mumble, « just a little tired that’s all. Long drive. »

The plump woman swipes up my empty plate. « You’d better get some rest then. I’m sure you’ll be busy these next few days getting settled in and learning your way around the pack. »

« You’re right, I should get—« Just before I can finish my sentence, I smell him. It’s strong. It’s close. I turn to the archway and not even a second later he appears with another man. I freeze again.

« Good evening, Alpha Grant, » the plump woman says while the other one acknowledges his presence with a charming smile. « Good evening, Will. »

Looking to the other man, I recall his name from the plethora of questions. Will is his Beta.

« How has your day been ? » Will starts a conversation with the woman and I feel as if he hasn’t quite noticed me yet.

Needing to get out now, I stand up, catching everyone’s attention. « Thanks again for dinner. I should, um—«

« Be getting to bed ? » The plump woman finishes for me and I nod.

« Yes, that. »

As I turn to leave, my eyes meet his Betas and the man seems quite surprised by me. From the hall I can hear him ask, « Now who was that ? » But I continue on my mission to the stairs and to the bedroom.

Inside, I am able to relax. Going to the kitchen was a bad idea, and I’ll have to remember that for next time. A little later into the night—having to entertain myself through all of it—I think about the plump woman’s offer of a shower, well, her offer to fetch me things needed for one.

Earlier, I familiarized myself with the room and discovered that the extra door off to the side leads to a bathroom. It looks to be another closet from the outside, but on the in it is quite cozy. It is not unbelievably spacious, which I like, and I feel good in there. The small window above the toilet has a ledge to place plants and such, and I think I might do just that. The shower glass is a lovely texture that makes me feel as if I am peering through a window while it’s raining, blurring everything. The bathroom is my own little nook, and it makes me feel better about showering here. Before I was quite nervous.

Now in a somewhat ‘okay’ mood, I prepare to leave the safety of the bedroom to find the plump woman. Part of me wonders if she’s still here—it being late and all—but I decide to check anyways.

It doesn’t take much space between the door and the frame to notice a presence in the hall. Pulling the door back—leaving only a sliver to watch through—I notice the presence to be a girl. My lugs squeeze, deprived of air, and I stalk her as she softly walks towards those large doors that intimidate me to no end.

My free hand balls up as the other holds the door in place. The stranger slips inside the room, and I immediately shut the door, not wanting to look any longer.

That woman just when into his bedroom.

I want to rip my hair out. Even with headphones in, I still know what they’re doing in his bedroom. Even if I can’t hear it, I can still feel it. It feels as if my nails are being yanked off one by one, my fingers bloody and shaking. I hate it. I hate him. I hate being here. I hate this feeling. It’s as if he’s wrapping his hands around my neck and slowly squeezing harder and harder, watching as my face grows pale, ignoring my begging.

I sit in the middle of my bed—music blasting in my ears—and I try not to scream. All I want is to go home. I knew this was going to be a mistake, but what could I do to stop it ? Run away like drunk Rae wanted ?

In this moment, after hearing such sounds echo from his bedroom, I’d rather him kill me. I want to rip out the mate bond from inside of me and burn it. In this moment, I no longer fear loneliness. I am on foreign territory, alone, and right now I feel as if I have nothing left to lose. Life has never seemed so dark, so empty and sinister. The Moon Goddess must hate me, she must want me dead.

No longer thinking rationally, I tear out my headphones and shoot from the bed, flying out of my room and hurrying down the hall. I pause at the stairs when one of this woman’s many cries jolt through my body, a spear aimed at my heart. The muffled sounds of their intimate movements drive me into a sort of desperation. Rushing down the stairs, hearing their voices grow dim, I retrace my steps to the kitchen in search of a familiar potion. A potion of healing.

The downstairs is vacant, so I don’t bother to act presentable. I sift through the cabinets but come up empty-handed, then I doubtably move to the pantry to find nothing again. With this intense desperation, I wander through the rooms until I come upon an elegant sitting room. In the corner, I spot an unusual cabinet, and with sudden excitement, I swing it open. Inside are bottles of all shapes and sizes—being no experienced drinker, I don’t know what to grab. Each one looks deliciously numbing, so I grab a tall bottle of clear liquid and I know it is vodka. Not only the label tells me, but I am familiar with the liquor, having had it in my own house.

Hoping to receive a feeling similar to that given from the wine, I claw at the wrapped cap and screw it open. The smell is not pleasant, but neither are the feelings in my chest, so I take a gulp.

Grasping onto the bottle like a child to their milk, I wander towards the back of the house until I find a back door. Sneaking through, I ignore the intense and unpleasant taste in my mouth, and I sit down on the edge of the porch, my legs filed in between the fence posts, my feet dangling and kicking back and forth. After a few more sips, I abandon the bottle and wander out towards the trees.

I know this feeling. It feels like the end of a book or movie, and in a few seconds, after one more page, you know the story is over. Where else am I supposed to go ? What else am I supposed to do ? I can’t live with my mother forever—that’s saying I get out of this hell—and I can’t stay here, left to wither away. All I have right now is the forest and my muzzy head left to wander these woods until someone realizes I’m missing, and that could take days.