I gasp as I wake up. I clap a hand over my mouth as I pull myself into a sitting position. The fire roars beside me as I press my legs into the thick blanket that I’ve put on the floor.
I’ve given Brittney my room, having assumed that she hasn’t had a good night’s rest in weeks. She probably hasn’t laid in a real bed in ages.
That dream about Wesley felt too real. It felt too much like that’s what my future will look like, if Wesley gets any closer to the pack leaders. I shudder to think of Jenna with her hands all over him, staking a claim on him just because she hates me. Just because he’s powerful.
I sigh and get to my feet. I stretch my arms over my head and take a few deep breaths. My eyes slowly close, and I sigh as I set my hand over my heart. This is what always helped. When Mom was alive, she would tell me to set my hand on my heart when I was afraid. She would insist that my own power would keep me safe, that I didn’t need her or Dad.
Once they both died, I realized that they couldn’t have been more wrong. The whispers and dirty looks started soon after, and before I knew it, the pack mates that were my age had decided I was an “other”.
The floorboards creaking pulls me out of my thoughts. I drop my hand to my side and raise my eyes to see Brittney standing in front of me.
The wood protests under her bare feet, and she strokes her dirty arm as she walks towards me.
I put on a smile. “What’s wrong, Brittney?”
Her shoulders tremble as she says, “I remember more about those people. The ones that took me.”
“What do you know?”
She swallows, then says, “I remember a name. Nolan.”
