This was not the time for me to start falling apart.
“Thank you,” I croaked, my throat tight. “Yeah. Things really suck right now.”
That was the understatement of a lifetime.
“Here.” The driver scribbled something on the back of a receipt and handed it to me. “That’s my number. If you ever need anything, call me. And don’t worry if it’s late, I’ll probably be up late studying for my college exams.”
I tucked the scrap of paper into my back pocket. “You have no idea how much I appreciate everything.”
“Psh.” She waved me away. “Enough of that. Go get a good night’s sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”
I watched as she merged with the traffic and her taillights disappeared, feeling even more alone and hoping against hope that she was right.
When the car was completely out of sight, I stuck my hands in my pockets and trudged down the street, making my way out of the city and toward the mountains in the distance.
I covered my six-mile hike with ease. Having spent most of my life walking or running to avoid being anywhere but home, running in my human form was second nature to me. My trek ended at the shore of a large lake that sat at the foot of two large mountains.
The moon cast its beams across the surface, giving the lake and the surrounding woods an otherworldly glow. I squinted, searching for the lights of Blackberry Burrow, which was nestled in the valley between the two mountains, but the burrow was completely obscured by the thick forest.
If I’d traveled the road directly to the burrow, I would’ve had to cover nearly 25 miles thanks to the long, narrow lake that made it impossible to access the burrow any other way. But I had a shortcut.
I was going to swim across the lake, significantly cutting down my travel time.
Searching along the shore, I located a pile of rocks that had fallen, providing me with a place to hide my clothing. The last thing I needed was for a human to happen upon my clothes scattered on the shore and call in the police to search the lake for a drowned swimmer.
I kicked off my shoes and quickly pulled my shirt over my head and wiggled out of my jeans. Folding them, along with my undergarments, I tucked them into the hiding place and hoped they’d still be there when I returned. I was pretty sure the police arrested people for walking into a city naked, and that would be my only option if my stash went missing. Swimming withclothing on wasn’t an option since I needed to move freely and didn’t want to deal with the drag.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I ran lightly across the rocks and dove into the lake, disappearing into the inky water. As I swam, I became one with the water, focusing on nothing but the steady pumping of my muscles as I moved ever closer to the far shore.
The long swim should have exhausted me, but instead, it cleared my mind and released the anxiety from my tight muscles. By the time I pulled myself from the icy water, I felt nothing but determination.
I could do this.
Iwoulddo this.
There would be no hesitation because I would do whatever I had to in order to save my men.
It was sometime past midnight by the time I crept into the village. I made my way toward a familiar large oak that had fallen years before. Reaching inside, I sighed with relief as my fingers brushed against the Ziploc bag I’d hidden there. I’d stashed several tiny “go kits” around the edge of the burrow land, never knowing when I might have needed one.
Shame rushed through me because I’d never been brave enough to actually leave. Not until Fletcher had made that decision for me. But I was a different person now. I was stronger, and I was loved. Most importantly, I had something to live for—my mates.
Quickly unzipping the bag, I pulled out the pair of leggings and a tight crop top. While I would have preferred a comfortable baggy cotton shirt, dealing with excess fabric when trying to be stealthy was a bad idea. The last thing I needed was to get hung on a windowsill or give an assailant a handful of fabric to grip and yank me backward.
Slipping on a pair of thin ballet flats, I pulled my hair into a ponytail. Finally, I reached down and picked up the last item; a large hunting knife. I’d heard the phrase “it fits like a glove,” but did anything feel as nice as the handle of a weapon that you’d whittled to create the perfect grip?
Violence was something I despised. I prayed I wouldn’t need to use the knife that night, but there was a comfort in knowing I was familiar with this blade.
Over the years, desperate to feel a little less vulnerable, I’d spent hours hiding in storage closets and in the woods with a knife. I’d practiced moving with them until the blade became an extension of my arm. I slid the knife back inside the sheath, and tucked it in the tight band of my leggings, feeling the cool leather press against my skin.
It was game time.
Without a sound, I made my way down the dirt path, blending with the shadows cast by the towering forest as I headed toward the house of a man I’d hoped never to see again. It didn’t take long before I was creeping around the red brick house, searching for any sign the man was awake, as well as hunting for the best entry point. The house was dark; not a single light was shining in any of the windows—at least until I reached the back of the house.
There, going up on tiptoes, I peeked into the first-floor room. A tiny reading light was on in his bedroom, providing just enough illumination to see the man. He was sitting in a recliner across from a large bed.
His chin rested against his chest, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses had slid down until they clung precariously to the tip of his nose. Even through the glass, I could hear his snores. If he sucked any harder, I was pretty sure he was going to peel the wallpaper from the walls. It was a sound that had kept me awakecountless nights when he’d visited women in the rooms nearest mine.
Now that I knew which room he was in, it made my decision on where to enter much easier. I made my way back to the front of the house, where I’d noticed a small window above the sink. It had been left slightly ajar, as though he’d intended to close it, but hadn’t pushed it all the way down.
