And then we’d run with the pack. All of us together.
“It’d be good,” I said, staring straight ahead but lost in the dream. “We’d run as fast as we could.”
I’m faster than you.
I snorted. “You keep telling yourself that. We all know that’s never been true.”
Is Gavin there?
That felt dangerous. “I… don’t know.”
It’s okay not to know. Do you want him to be?
“I don’t even know him.”
And yet here you are, chasing after him like he’s the most important thing in the world.
“I….”
What would happen then? After we ran.
“When we were done, we’d all come back to the house. There’d be no Omegas. There’d be no Alpha of all. We would just… be. All of us, together. The furniture would be pushed back, and there’d be blankets and pillows and everything would be soft. Everything would be warm. I’d get to be in the middle.”
Not-Kelly was quiet. Then, It sounds nice.
And then I said, “Do you think about it? What it would be like?”
What?
“If we weren’t us. If we weren’t… Bennetts.”
Who would we be?
“Unimportant.”
And since he wasn’t real, I expected him to agree with me. He was part of me, this figment. He was my creation, and he should have said yes, yes, I wish that all the time, I wish we weren’t anyone at all.
Instead he said, “Here. Here. Here.”
It was so real.
Like he was right there.
I jerked the steering wheel as I snapped my head over. For a moment I almost convinced myself he was sitting next to me. There was a flash of blond hair and blue eyes and white teeth behind a small smile, but then it was gone.
The truck began to bounce as it left the road, dust kicking up behind me.
I lifted my foot off the gas, forcing myself to stop from slamming on the brakes in case the truck fishtailed. The truck slowed as I pulled it back onto the road. I glanced in the rearview mirror. There was no one behind me. There was no one in front of me.
My hands were sweating as I brought the truck to a stop. I put it in Park before letting out the breath I’d been holding. “Fuck.”
There was a sign up ahead for a town called Creemore.
Creemore what? I didn’t know what state I was in.
That scared me more than I expected it to. I tried to remember the past few days, but they were shattered into bits and pieces.
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t know where to go.
I laid my forehead on the steering wheel, sucking in air.
“I’m tired,” I whispered.
Kelly didn’t reply.
Eventually I drove on.
THERE WERE NO WOLVES IN CREEMORE. It was small, more of a village than anything else.
It reminded me of Green Creek, with its one main road.
It wasn’t until I saw the license plates on the cars parked near the sidewalk that I realized I was in Canada. I couldn’t remember crossing the border.
I found an empty parking lot and pulled in, turned off the truck.
I sat back in the seat, leaning my head against the back window. “All right,” I said. “I’ll just….”
Do something.
I got out of the truck. My back hurt.
People walked by the parking lot. They glanced at me and waved.
I nodded, and they continued on.
I turned toward the main road, looking at the renovated buildings, the shops with lights on inside.
There was a garage, the doors open, loud music playing.
I gave it a wide berth, my throat constricting.
I didn’t know where I was going.
People stared at me curiously, and I reached up to scratch at the beard on my face. It was unkempt, and I hadn’t showered in a couple of days. I probably looked awful. I kept my head down.
I was walking past an open doorway that smelled cloyingly of burning candles when a hand shot out and grabbed me by the wrist, squeezing tightly.
I barely kept my eyes from flashing as I jerked my arm back.
A young woman stood in a doorway, her skin pale, her eyes a strange shade of green. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was styled in a thick black Mohawk that bisected her skull, and she had feathers hanging from chains in her ears.
Black feathers.
“From a raven,” she said, answering a question I hadn’t asked.
I turned to walk away.
“You’re looking for something.”
I stopped and glanced back at her.
Her head was cocked. She looked me up and down before nodding. “Yes, definitely looking for something. Why?”
“Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“American,” she said. “West Coast? Yes. But not California. You don’t look like a Californian.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I see things,” she said. “Part of my job.” She pointed toward a neon sign in the window. A large hand with an eye in the middle. Above it were the words MADAM PENELOPE PSYCHIC.
I snorted.
She rolled her eyes. “So dismissive. You would think one such as you would know better.”
That caught me off guard. “One such as me.”
She squinted at me. “Yes. You do know who you are, don’t you?”
“Do you?” I snapped, tired of her game already. I had no use for whatever scam she was running.
“I think so,” she said, leaning against the door. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I doubt that.” I turned again.
“I can help you find him.”
I froze before slowly looking back at her. “Who?”
She waved her hand at me. “Whoever it is you’re looking for.”
“And how do you know it’s a he?”
She tapped the side of her head. “Psychic. Like it says on the sign. You can read, can’t you?”
“Fuck off.”
“So rude.” She sniffed. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected. You’re lost. You have been for a long time. There’s… blue.” She frowned. “Why are you blue?” Her nose wrinkled. “And there’s violet at the edges. It’s pulling at you. Tearing.” Her eyes widened. “Ah. I see. Come. Come. Hurry. I have something for you.”
And then she turned and walked back through the doorway, leaving me gaping after her. Against my better judgment, I followed.
The shop was small, and the smell inside made my eyes water. Candles burned on a shelf against one wall, and the room was stuffy and hot. She stood near the window, reaching over to turn off the neon sign. She flipped a sign on the window from OPEN to CLOSED. “Close the door behind you. We can’t be interrupted.”
“I’m not paying you for—”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said again. “You’re not a king, but you’re close. Not many of those left. Isn’t that strange? Once upon a time, you couldn’t go outside without tripping over one, and now?” She shook her head as she pushed by me. “It’s a rarity. I wonder if we’re worse off because of it.”
“I’m not a king.”