It’s been a few days since Colton told me about his mom and I swear she keeps plaguing my thoughts.
It’s like a tiny itch in my brain I can’t shake, and I keep coming back to it repeatedly for no obvious
reason. I even dreamt of her last night, and it was the weirdest most confusing thing ever. It came after
I finally located a memory of her in this shared library of thoughts and couldn’t shake her soft face from
my visuals. I must have tried too hard and implanted her in my brain to mess with me, it’s the only
explanation.
I do remember her vaguely without Colton’s influence, only in my own memories she’s faceless,
because I couldn’t remember her all that well, so it’s nice to apply features to her. She has Colton’s
flawless beauty, his black hair, darkest chocolate eyes, and sallow skin, with a soft ambience that’s less
masculine than his.
She used to come to the library near our farm every weekend to read books to the children. I remember
her being a caring quiet lady, well spoken, well dressed, and she had no prejudices whatsoever against
wolves from rival packs, the children were all one to her. She always wanted to see us live in peace
and harmony, and she had this warm pull that I see in Colton sometimes, when he isn’t closing up on
me and freezing me out.
The dream lingers in my mind, despite being up for hours, and now, I’m sat on the grass taking a break
from training and can still feel her voice ebbing back to me from the recess of my mind. Fatigue letting
it slip back in as I cool down and catch my breath, and her haunting melodic tone, filled with pleading,
rings through again, the words which woke me this morning.
“Save us.”
It’s all that comes through and it gives me the same shivers it did when I dreamt it. She walked up to
me, in a bright white, sterile, wall less space, with no one else around me but blurred nothingness of
light and stale air. Standing in the middle of what felt like a hospital, I don’t know, unsure where I was
meant to go or how I even got there. Confused.
She appeared in the distance at first, catching my eye, almost hazy and surrounded by a fog which
cleared as she came closer. Dressed in a light shapeless gown, almost like a medical covering, except
it was pure snow white, not blue, or patterned. Her hair was loose, free, and hung longer than I can
recall from my memory bank, almost touching her waist, whereas she always kept it jaw length in even
Colton’s memories.
When she came into focus at first, I could see her cheeks were wet with tears, eyes blood shot, her
skin streaked where they had fallen repeatedly and her smock was soaked through, as though they’d
been absorbing thousands of them, for an eternity. Her desperate sadness consumed, and
overwhelmed me, and I was rooted to the spot, unable to breathe with the heaviness of her pain.
She was eerily pale, beautiful still, but only the shadow of the woman from Colton’s memories, thin and
worn down, as though her life was being sucked away. She touched my face softly, startling me with
the sheer heat she exuded, leaned in so close that she almost kissed me, her warmth invading the
coolness of my own air and whispered it right into my face, startling me to wake in the dull stillness of
my own room.
Those two damned words.
Shuddering again, aware the memory of her touch on my skin has pushed a physical sensation on my
cheek, and I touch it in a bid to remove the feel of it. The dream felt so real and I hate that it won’t leave
me alone in waking hours, replaying on a loop, and affecting me so deeply. The total opposite to Colton
though, as he’s been practically absent, physically, and mentally.
Something he’s been doing for an infuriating number of days. It’s like opening up about her reminded
him of all the reasons he chose to reject me, and he back tracked at a hundred miles an hour and
completely pulled away. He’s been on active avoidance ever since and it’s both broken me and pissed
me off beyond the limits of boundary.
He comes to training, barks orders at me from a safe distance, and has our mind link on permanent
closed door. It’s making me madder than hell, infuriating that once again he has done another U turn,
but whenever I try to talk to him, he walks off and blanks me. He makes sure I can’t get close, I can’t
touch him, and he either sticks with the sub pack so I can’t get him alone or leaves before anyone else
does so I can’t follow. A big fat ‘stay away’ from me aura, all around that dense head of his, and he
won’t even look me in the eye.
I know what he’s doing, and as much as I want to punch him in his genitals for it, I do understand, but
it’s just so frustrating. What makes is worse, is Carmen has caught onto the strained atmosphere and is
laying on the oozing flirt mode with all her might, driving even the males of the pack to eye roll every
time she baby talks him. I think she sees it as hope, or an opening that she’s on the path to getting him
back, and it’s making me sick to watch her smugly move in on him at every opportunity she gets.
Colton still isn’t tolerating her, but it doesn’t mean I’m not having visions of turning and ripping her
throat out multiple times a day. Killing a fellow wolf from your pack is a mortal sin, no matter the
excuse, but I would happily pay the time for that crime.
Meadow is the only thing keeping me sane, and last night she camped out in my room to cheer me up
and distract me, watching movies, and having girl time to throw off all the stresses of everything going
on around us. She brought me clothes, and make up, not that I need them now my own belongings
were left at my door when I came back from training a couple of days ago. I suspect Colton went and
packed up everything with my scent on in the orphanage, but I can’t be sure, and he won’t stick around
to let me ask him at all. It adds to my fury, because it shows he still cares, he still thinks about my
needs, but he won’t face me at all. His mind is set, and I know what this means for us, he’s already
chosen his course of action and he’s biding his time until it’s done.
He doesn’t come to mess hall to eat either, just shows up at the park to train and leaves as soon as
we’re done for the day. He spends the rest of his time with Juan, patrolling the lay of the land, and
overseeing the training camp and the new buildings. I’ve seen them walking together many times and I
almost couldn’t control my own loathing growls, or the hatred I have for that man.
The pack is getting uneasy and Meadow mentioned that he hasn’t called any kind of communal since,
as though he’s avoiding any real dialogue with any of us. He knows the pack will have questions about
this. He brought me to them, made it seem like I might have a chance and then snubbed me as they
were beginning to accept my presence.
He’s caught inside his own head as he tries to work things out, but we’re losing time. Ticking away
slowly as the full moon approaches in its cycle and I don’t think I can take much more. Logic is telling
me to give up on him, but I don’t want to accept this is it. That he’s done and given up on us after what
he said to me. My heart doesn’t want to believe he could be this way.
I’ve been lost in my own thoughts, anxious, obsessing, crying, and worrying myself sick with the chaos
of this lack of closure. I’m not being a cold idiot and cutting him off, or avoiding him, like he is me. I
would talk to him in a heartbeat if he let me. It’s like he just abandoned me after dumping me in his sub
pack, with no idea what I’m supposed to be now, how to feel, and what I’m meant to do after the full
moon.
If he marks her where do I go? What do I do? I’m only here because of my link to him. I’m not a Santo,
I don’t belong here and although the sub pack seem to be warming to me, I’m not bonded to them. I’m
not one of them, and Carmen will kick my ass to the curb the second he marks her.
She’ll be his beta, until she takes her place as Luna, pushing Meadow down the ranks, from merely
becoming his mate. That’s how it works. She’ll have more say than any of them and I can see Colton
allowing her to move me out for the sake of their pairing. She hates me with a passion and spends all
her time either drooling after him or throwing me shade. It’s just a waiting game until she has that
power to finally eject me.
I exhale heavily and pull myself up off the grass where I’ve been sitting cross legged for the past ten
minutes, ripping at strands absentmindedly, letting my mind run riot, as Meadow strolls on up beside
me and slumps down too. She’s barely flushed, no evidence of panting after scaling thirty-foot tree
climbs, and almost no sweat has formed on any part of her at all. I’m over here looking like I rolled in a
puddle, red faced, and having a cardiac arrest some twenty minutes after I did it, and she’s utterly
unaffected.
I have to admit though, in only a few short days, my stamina is improving, and I no longer hit the
shakes and near vomit like the first time we did this. I’m getting stronger.
“What is it when men today? I swear, I must be getting my own cycle, because I want to stab idiots in
the head. It’s like the haze is coming in and making them all stupid, or loco.” Meadow falls back on the
grass, seeming very athletic in pink leggings, and matching sports bra, that enhance her natural assets.
Cesar has been driving her mad the past few days, with his overprotective side kicking in, as Juan
upped the training schedule and started pushing his agenda a little harder. He’s been all over her,
shadowing her through the course, stopping her before any he thinks might be dangerous, and meeting
her fury at molly coddling her. Males can’t help it, even if their femmes are capable, it’s that need to
shelter their mate.
The haze is mating season, and yes, it’s fast approaching, and can make the males a little crazy
possessive, over sensitive, and willing to wrap their mates in wadding. It’s an inevitable part of our year,
which thankfully is short lived, but sees every male and femme who’ve been turned go into horny
overdrive. Most mated couples don’t leave the bedrooms for days on end. The unmated are fair game,
and result in rushed unions after it’s over, many markings out of unwanted pupping’s have been borne
in the past. It’s craziness. I’m not looking forward to it coming at all, seeing as this will be my first year
on this side of the fence and I have no idea how it’s going to feel. Especially with a head and heart
invested in a guy who intends to mark another.
Meanwhile, the villagers around the mountain are refusing to budge with, only a few actually moving to
the makeshift accommodation Juan has been building. I know this is angering him and it’s denting his
ego that these people don’t see him as the authority he thought they did. After all these years of
swanning around, thinking his transition to ruler was set in stone and no one would dispute it.
His anger is obvious and the show of force yesterday as trucks came in, depositing screaming women
and children in the camp, hinted that he’s snapped and started to take them against their will. It’s
horrendous, and I watched in horror as women with bound wrists, roped so they couldn’t fight, were
hauled out and unclamped to be reunited with hysterical children from another truck. He separated
them. Taken babies from mothers in a bid to keep them compliant. Their mates following soon after,
giving up the fight and coming to submissive control to be with their families.
Who does that?
It left a mixed feeling among the Santos and everyone has been on edge, nipping at one another,
having to police the new additions in case they try to return home. You can feel the utter disgust in the
air around us. No one questioning their alpha, but no one agrees with this. The Santos aren’t as bad as
I used to think they all were, and it’s obvious that many are not like Juan at all.
Colton was beside him on the podium when the first trucks came in, and he couldn’t stomach it for
more than seconds. Saying something to his father, I could see his aggression peeking, his expression
thunderous, his eyes glowing even from this distance, and his actions animated as though showing his
disapproval angrily. They argued and Colton stormed off and stayed out of sight for the rest of the
deposit. The elders all looking on in silent agreement with Juan, showing who exactly in this hierarchy
were the empty hearted and power hungry with all the control. Traitors to their own kind.
It feels like this place is turning into a prison, much like the home was, with wardens and it’s fast
collapsing around Juan’s ears as wolves begin to question this in the corners and hallways. You hear
the whispers, but they soon fall silent for fear it’ll get back to him. Everyone knows he’s ruthless and will
punish any one of them, blood or not. He has his own lethal pack of war bitten psychotic wolves who do
his bidding. His elders, his brother, and his beta. Four deathly loyal sub packs at his beck and call if you
dismiss Colton’s. Strong enough of a mini army to get wolves to fear them. Juan’s untouchable and has
the force to back up his claim to being the uniting alpha. He rules with fear, not respect. There’s no care
in his heart.
There’s been no word on any vampire attacks beyond ours since the orphanage, we’ve had no word
that Juan has actually let anyone know about, and there hasn’t been any new hits or hints of a threat.
Apart from my new living situation it’s like it never happened and no one mentions the lives we lost that
day. I didn’t even get to bury them or pay my last respects. The cleanup crew moved in and their
bodies were burned outside the city limits without anyone being told until after it was done. Like
worthless trash that needed to be disposed of. A black mark Juan wanted to wipe clean and push out
of sight, because he can never be seen to be failing at anything.
Juan hiding more shame, the same way he hides his failure mate, Luna Sierra Santo. It seems he likes
to keep secrets and pretend history is not what it is. I wonder how many of the stories of our victories of
the war have been exaggerated and twisted. No one talks of the fallen, or the battles they lost, they
only teach us of the heroic wins and the wolves that came back.
“Tell me about it. Colton is high on my hit list today, not that I’ll get close enough to do anything about
it.” I sulk into my own lap, answering Meadow, depressed and exhausted with this situation, and
Meadow leans up on her elbows to look at me.
“He won’t even talk to me about it, Chica. God knows I’ve tried, but he’s inside his own head. He does
this sometimes, although not for so long. Goes into lockdown and pushes everyone to arm’s length
until he figures it out on his own, been this way since the wars made him grow up way too fast. I think
the impending full moon is only making him worse, as the clock ticks down, and his father is still
messing with his head. I swear, if Juan left him alone for just a week, maybe even a couple of days,
that boy would soon see right and do what his heart is telling him.” Meadow spreads to star shaped
across the grass and blows out a huge lungful of air, as though to expel her frustration, staring at the
sky.
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