Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Goldie

Gasping, I sit up too quickly, smacking my head on the ceiling of the cave. I reach for the new bruise sure to be on my forehead with my damn broken arm and yelp out in pain from the too sudden movement.

You would think that the years of abuse I endured would prepare me for moments like this, and in some respects they did. However, I’m not used to waking up on a tiny cave floor, after being hunted down by my would-be abusive husband and a pack of hounds.

If this was a regular circumstance, the sounds of birds chirping in the early morning wouldn’t send me into a panic, but without the adrenaline I was riding high on last night, the reality that I’m in the forest, alone, hits me straight in the chest.

But… I spent the entire night in the forest, sleeping in this little hole, and I wasn't harmed…

“Holy shit,” I whisper because I fucking did it. I got myself away before I was irrevocably bound to that evil excuse for an Alpha, before he could destroy all that was left of me.

I breathe a little easier through my pain, but I’m not under the delusion that this means I can continue to rest here.

I need to put further distance between myself and the village, and I also need to track down Bear. No, I will track him. There’s no other option. I will find him.

I gingerly push myself out of the hole, keeping my ears open, and my eyes peeled as I go. I’m relieved to find that there’s no sign of the villagers from last night or any disturbance to the clearing around the tiny cave’s entrance.

The sun hasn’t been up long, hopefully any hunting parties being sent out today haven’t left the village yet. Keeping my injured wrist close to my chest, I stand carefully. Pins and needles start radiating down my legs. I guess sleeping on the floor of a cave will do that.

After I shake off the uncomfortable feeling, I venture out into the clearing on quiet feet. I don’t have time for this full body ache. Or the hunger that’s already making my stomach growl.

If I find Bear, I’ll be able to feed myself, though. Hunger gnaws at my belly, but I ignore it. Right now, my priority is finding my only companion.

Keeping the cave entrance in my peripheral, I take a moment to relieve myself at the edge of the forest.

A low curtain of mist is visible above the grass of the clearing, leaving a dewy taste to the air. Despite the crisp temperatures, I was able to stay warm through the night.

Wrapping my head around the idea that I got away from the horrors of my home and the Alpha that would have been my personal hell leaves me feeling rudderless. I no longer have to answer to Stepmother and her crazy plans for my future, or have to cower in fear from father’s belt. I do not have to pretend to be okay with the vitriol that came from the people of my village.

Whatever path I find myself on now, I will be in control. I will get to choose, well, everything.

I refuse to venture too far into the forest without Bear, so I need to move. I won’t truly be safe until I’m far enough away from the village that they won’t be able to find me, even if they keep hunting me.

Bear is equal parts stubborn and loyal. I don’t think he’s gone far, or back to the village. The forest is a terrifying place alone, and I don’t want to continue this journey without him. I hope he’s searching for me, too.

Looking around the clearing toward the small stream, I make my way over to at least give myself some much-needed water. I know I will eventually need to locate some food if I can’t find Bear quickly, but years of small rations in my home means that I can handle the ache of hunger well into the evening.

With my wrist injured, I know that traveling the deeper part of the forest will be harder, so I decide to follow the mountain's curve. As I make my way, occasionally the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end with the feeling of someone watching. Each time I look around, the only thing I see are trees. It pushes me along faster.

I have yet to see a clear sign on whether Bear has come this way, and it causes worry to build in my heart. I stop, taking a moment to look around, ignoring the feeling of eyes on me. If I keep going in the wrong direction, I’ll only make things worse. I take a few steps back to retrace my steps, but freeze when a branch breaks somewhere behind a tree.

“I taste like skunk,” I hiss. I don’t think it’s Bear, my horse is many things, but quiet isn’t one of them.

I turn back once again, if he was back that way, we would have noticed each other. It’s a better idea to explore new areas.

“Where are you, Bear?” I grumble, losing hope. It’s been well over an hour since I left my cave, maybe two. I’m about to try calling out for him when I notice a saddlebag lying haphazardly up ahead. As I rush forward to check it, I also see a clear hoof print.

When I look in the bag, I am happy to confirm it is the one from my saddle and still holds all my belongings. I take a moment to drink some water, and shove a dried piece of meat in my mouth. I need to ration my food until I find more.

I have an unhinged thought that it would be nice to find a fully stocked home filled with enough food to last me and Bear years…but this isn’t a fairy tale.

Throwing the bag over my uninjured shoulder, I continue on at a faster clip. Hopefully Bear is close, but if not, at least now I have a trail to follow.

The sun has reached above the trees about two hours later, when the echo of a familiar nicker reaches my ears. I sprint forward, only to freeze in my tracks for a moment as I take in the sight before me. In a large paddock by the mouth of a cave, I spot the only reason I’ve made it this long without losing all hope for a better life. I shake off my shock enough to find my feet.

“Bear!” I gasp as I rush him. “How the heck did you find your way here? Where the heck are we?” Then I chuckle. Of course, Bear would find such a nice place to rest. “At least you conned your way into someone's lovely paddock, hmm?”

His deep brown coat shines with health as he tosses his head, clearly excited to see me, too. When I reach the fence, he tucks his muzzle over my shoulder affectionately. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath of his comforting grass scent.

“I was worried about you, old friend,” I quietly tell him. I feel like I ate a suspicious mushroom, I’m so relieved right now. I’m so fucking happy, I could cry. Of course, I do, and Bear bumps me with his nose. Either he’s telling me to suck it up or trying to comfort me. It’s hard to tell with Bear. Sometimes he’s sweet, sometimes he’s sassy.

Looking around the space near the fence, I can tell it’s well taken care of. Bear has a trough full of water and signs of feed on the ground. He is not a horse that accepts others easily, so whoever caught him must have been someone kind. Someone Bear didn’t consider a threat, which means I’m already better off than I ever was in the village. Bear hates everyone back there…

One time, my stepmother came stomping into his pen, screaming at me about…I don’t even remember what, honestly, but what I do remember is Bear biting her arm and dragging her a foot away from me. I think I was sixteen.

Before that, Bear would kick his hind legs at father every time he tried to saddle the horse. The other villagers steered clear as well. His sass is legendary. Something I admire very much about him.

I look for signs of a person to thank, but the only thing visible is a path into the cave next to the paddock. When I look at Bear, his intelligent brown eyes seem to convey the answer I’m looking for as he tosses his head toward the opening.

“Do you think it’s safe?” I ask him. I’m nervous, for obvious reasons, but the scents in the air, as well as Bear being so peaceful, are helping to ease some of my anxieties. Bear shuffles his feet, going back to what he was doing before I arrived, and I chuckle at his dismissal. “I suppose that means yes, and that you’re slightly offended I dared ask…”

Crossing the fingers of my uninjured hand, and taking a deep breath, I hope for a sweet little old lady, or maybe a young woman about my age.

“Please don’t let them be an Alpha. Anything but an Alpha,” I whisper. My Omega senses aren’t picking up any Alpha scents, though, just hints of leather and clover. I don’t feel threatened here…

I give him one last pet along his forehead before heading in.

The cave’s rock surface appears to be threaded with jasper. A damp smell reaches my nose from the shallow depths of the cave, but fortunately there's no sign of wildlife.

I notice the pathway is surprisingly clear, like it’s been swept from edge to edge, as I make my way deeper into the mountain. Instead of going down, I find the path curves to the right at a slight incline. I pause, taking a moment to sniff the air. Hoping to pick up on the scents of whoever has been taking care of this cave. There’s a hint…of something spicy in the air, but I’m not sure what.

Despite the low light available, I can see well enough to find a large wooden door with a heavy metal handle.

“Hello?” I ask, since knocking on the wood brings no response. I tentatively try the handle, with a hard pull, the heavy door swings toward me. Normally I wouldn’t risk feeling as if I’m breaking into someone’s home, but they have my horse in their paddock, and I saw no other way through or signs of a yard.

A surprising amount of sunlight temporarily blinds me as I take a step into the doorway, dropping my bag onto the floor. The large window across from me seems out of place after being in the dark tunnels.

A combination of scents hits me all at once, setting my senses alight. Leather, cracked pepper, and something more smoky are the most dominant. Alphas. Most Alphas I’ve met don’t smell this good, though.

This collection of scents reminds me of comforting nights beside the fire with my mother. Sitting in her lap as she rocked me in her favorite chair, reading me tales of adventure, and singing about love. For reasons I can’t explain, but feel so natural, I let my eyes fall closed, and breathe in deeply once more. I want to wrap myself up in the aroma. What is this feeling?

My eyes pop open, and I look around. This place smells like home. What an odd thought.

I’m in a daze as I walk over to the large dining table that has been carved with care. Images across the surface show bear-like creatures in the forest, sleeping in a cave, and curved around a smaller creature. At the center of the table, a cluster of twinkling stars surrounds an elaborate crescent moon, polished to a gleam. My hands can’t help but trace the largest monstrous form at the corner of the table. The craftsmanship here puts anything my father ever made to shame. There is love in each mark, a sense of devotion that turns a simple table into a work of art.

“Beautiful,” I whisper, feeling suddenly emotional. I want to know the person capable of creating something so special. Hell, I want to steal this table, and take it with me to my new home. Admiration turns to sadness in an instant as the reality of my life hits me in a new light.

I’m free, for now… I’m safe, for today… But I have no home…

Shaking off the overwhelming feelings, I continue my exploration. The beautiful table sits just beside the kitchen area, where the window that had blinded me rests above a long wooden counter. There are herbs hanging from the large area above the window, in organized rows. Open shelving holds a neat stack of dishes and cups. It’s clear to me that this is a well cared for home, filled with love. At least, what I imagine love like this might look like. It’s been so long since my mother died, and her home was filled with cruelty and pain after, that I can hardly remember what it felt like before.

At the end of the kitchen, three different chairs sit in front of a large hearth surrounding a knitted rug. Each has somewhat of a unique style, large but very cozy looking. Even with my height, I think my feet would dangle off the ground. I notice a fourth, much smaller chair, that is slightly hidden behind the others. It's more my size.

I nibble my lip. It couldn’t hurt to sit for a moment, could it?

Walking over to the largest chair, I admire the way the wood is carved and marked. I’d need to hop to get into a comfortable position in it, so I move to the next.

“Too large, too hard…” I give the middle seat a push with my uninjured hand, frowning. The wood seems denser than the first. The third of the larger chairs has several pillows and blankets in it. I consider curling up there, to wait for the owner of this home, but decide I’m better off in the Goldie sized chair. “Just right,” I sigh, as I sink into the seat.

I rock slowly, allowing the motion to soothe me. It’s nice. I’m about to curl my legs up, when I see an even more enticing place to park my bottom.

The alcove in front of the large bay window holds a deep seat, and either side of the wooden walls has shelving stuffed with leather-bound books. There are a few framed charcoal drawings that make little sense when up close, but from a distance they look like a meadow. Another is a crude drawing of three large figures surrounding a smaller woman. I would guess it was done by a child. I cannot help but picture myself sitting among these cushions, lazing the day away. I sit down, wiggling my butt a bit, and smile. Very cozy.

A glance through the window reveals a grassy meadow with some small buildings that remind me of sheds in the distance. I search the area for signs that someone is out there, but don’t see anyone. Rather than venture outside, I head back toward the clever tunnel entrance. From this side it looks like any door, but there is a bar that can be dropped across it. The owner must not be home, if it was left open.

I nibble my lip, looking around again. I’m intruding…overstepping. Invading someone's personal space…

But as long as I take nothing, is there any harm in exploring while I wait for them to return? I want to see more of this home. What would the bedroom of a well-loved place such as this look like?

Down a short hallway, I find six doors along the walls, with the last being at the very end.

Checking over my shoulder, and feeling as if I’m doing something naughty, I open the first door to reveal a large bathing chamber with a beautiful privacy screen. The rock walls have been polished in places, allowing veins of Jasper to give them a green appearance. A copper tub, large enough to fit an Alpha or two, sits along the wall by a low bench. I avoid the vanity’s mirror as I turn back to the hallway.

I am greeted with the scent of leather and clover when I enter the second room. Cozy, the room holds an unmade bed with a gray cover pushed to the bottom. A shelf along the top of the rock surfaced wall holds a collection of feathers in various sizes and colors. I spot a soft-looking sweater hanging off a hook on the wall next to the small clothes' chest, that causes my inner Omega to perk up. When I reach forward to touch the fabric, the need to wrap myself in the softness and that scent overwhelms me.

I consider taking it…but if the person who it belongs to shows up right now, I’d have no explanation…no way to deny that I was just snooping through their things.

I head into the room across the hall. Unlike the room before, this one has a small window that lets in the afternoon light. Sharp notes of cracked pepper catch my attention as I take in the collection of plants on the shelf by the bed. The wood walls to the right of the door have a few shelves holding a collection of jars.

As I step further into the room, I spot an open chest with folded clothing inside it.

I can see a pair of chunky knit socks right on top. I let out a whine, my desire to steal the socks is even more overwhelming than my need for the sweater… I could hide them before anyone notices they’re missing. A tightness in my chest has me acting before I can think this through. I kick off my shoes and pull the socks onto my feet. What the fuck is happening to me? I’ve never stolen anything in my life. What has gotten into me?

The comfort of the scents in this room are going straight to my head. Or maybe it’s the pain in my wrist finally making me delirious.

Behind the next door, I find a simple bedroom that holds the scent of strong cedar and rain. It has little else, but an overly large bed made up with green blankets and a small shelf holding a collection of wooden figures. I would guess that they are from the same person who made the table, based on the craftsmanship.

The knitted throw at the end of the bed keeps catching my eye, I try to take several deep breaths to clear out this persistent need to take the damn thing. I’m not a thief! But maybe if I just…borrow the items…

I leap forward, snatch up the blanket with my good hand, and tug it around myself as best I can with one arm. The soft green texture holds the scent of rain, and I immediately respond with a soft purr. The sound takes me by surprise. I’ve never felt comfortable enough to let my Omega instincts take over. To give into my most basic desires.

It’s been a very long time since someone's scent made me feel a sense of safety. Anything other than fear and disgust is a distant memory.

Resigned to the idea that my instincts are in control, and taking over, I rush back into the first room, before grabbing the sweater I originally denied myself and use it as a pillow. I curl up in the bed, being extra careful not to squish my injured wrist. The overwhelming need to sleep forces me under, and I couldn’t stay awake even if I tried.