Chapter One

Wade

I took off my backpack and opened it, hoping that I had counted wrong and that there was still another granola bar inside. But as I dug around, I saw the harsh truth—I was out of food. A few months ago, I’d have just shifted and found some food, easy peasy. My wolf was a kick-ass hunter, and it wouldn’t take long for me to grab a rabbit, a squirrel—there was always something around. But I was too far along in my pregnancy to continue shifting. I was stuck in my skin and beyond hungry.

My last meal had been the day before. I’d miscalculated how far I was from the next town, something I vowed not to do again. It wasn’t like I could stick out my thumb and catch a ride—not that I’d try. Without my wolf at the ready, it wasn’t safe, but even if it was, the likelihood of someone wanting to pick up a very pregnant omega who looked like me wasn’t in my favor. Nope. My only transportation method was my two feet.

I unzipped the front pocket to see how much cash I had. Forty-three dollars. It was enough to get something to eat, but nowhere near enough for a place to stay. Wishing I didn’t have to sleep outside again, I threw the pack over my shoulder, stepped out of the woods onto the side of the road, and kept walking. The day was drawing to a close, and I really needed to eat before I slept; My baby needed me to.

In the distance, I could hear more cars than I’d seen on this road, so I knew I was getting close to an intersection. Whether there would be someplace there for me to grab some food, I didn’t know. It was hit or miss this far away from the city. Hopefully, there was a fast-food restaurant or a coffee shop—someplace I could get something to eat, warm up, use the bathroom, and then get on my way. Or, better yet, a diner. They always seemed to be the most welcoming of the choices, one of them even giving me some odd jobs for some cash as long as I stayed away from the customers. They managed to be both nice and mean at the same time.

I didn’t like going into places with humans, as a rule. They always stared at my face, stared at the mark on it. They didn’t think it was a mark though. They didn’t know it told other packs not to accept me—that I was worthless, that I was trash, that I wasn’t worth a second of their time. To them, I was less than nothing.

Nope. Humans didn’t see it that way. Instead, they looked at me with pity, assuming it was from a fire, an animal attack, or a car accident. Once, a child even asked if I’d been attacked by a monster—specifically, a yellow one. I assured him it wasn’t the case—not because it wasn’t a monster who did it. It absolutely was. But he wasn’t yellow. He was a wolf, like me. In fact, he was supposed to be the wolf protecting me. What a joke that was.

The monster part was 1000 percent true.

Funnily enough, I was happy when Shaw took over the pack. I thought he’d set me free. But he hadn’t set me free—he’d just shackled me in a different kind of prison, one where I wasn’t accepted anywhere.

When Shaw challenged my mate, Raymond, for his spot as alpha, I knew he was going to win. Raymond was weak. He took the position of alpha by conniving, not force. It was the opposite of how he got me as his mate, which was completely by force.

Gods, I hated that this was the legacy of the cub growing inside me—a weak alpha overtaken by a strong one who then forced me rogue.

“I’m sorry, little one.” I placed my hand on my rounded belly. “You don’t even have a chance at normal, nothing like it. But I promise you, I’ll keep you safe and make your life as good as it can be.”

I wasn’t sure how I’d do that, but I would. I refused to let them have anything less.

About a mile down the road, I saw the lights of a gas station. They weren’t the best places as far as what I was looking for. Usually, they didn’t have somewhere to sit and eat, and they didn’t always have working bathrooms. But there was always food and a little bit of warmth. It would have to do.

I tipped my head to the sky and scented deeply, making sure I wasn’t on any territory I shouldn’t be. I’d made that mistake before—crossing through a bear’s den. If I hadn’t been pregnant, I wouldn’t still be breathing. They’d taken one look at my face and deemed me a threat—I was seconds away from death when the den’s alpha omega noticed my bump and pleaded with him to stop.

I’d been marked as punishment for being pregnant by the ex-alpha—out of fear that my cub could someday take over the pack. As if we’d even wanted to be there. If he’d asked me to leave, I’d have gone. All I wanted was to go, but I’d been scared to leave. Now my baby and I were both paying the consequences for that fear.

I didn’t scent any animals, aside from a few domestic dogs, and headed straight inside.

It was actually quite a decent-sized station. They had fountain drinks, a coffee station, donuts, and pre-made sandwiches. I’d passed through worse in the past too many months.

“Whoa, that’s some horror shit right there! Who did that to you?”

The kid behind the counter made me wince. When I turned to face him, his gaze fell to my belly, and he apologized. “Sorry, dude. I thought—ummm—do you need help finding anything?”

At least he had the decency to sound sorry.

“No, I got it.” I hit up the bathroom and then grabbed some food. A couple of tuna sandwiches were marked down as last-day-of-sale and I snagged them both. If they’d been even a second past, I’d have avoided them for the baby. But last day? I could fill my belly twice as full. There was also a banana. It was overpriced for a single fruit, but it would be good for my baby, and that was all that mattered.

I brought them forward. “Just these today.” I plopped my pack on the counter and took out my cash.

He put them in a bag and handed them to me. “I was just gonna throw them out. You can have them.”

And there it was—the pity in the human’s eyes. There’d been a time when I’d have been too prideful and said, “No, it’s fine, I can pay for it.” Today wasn’t that day. I needed to save every penny.

“Thanks, dude. You know if there’s any camp spot close by?”

“No, not around here. There’s a resort up the mountain, but, other than that, nothing until you get to Hillsdale—about half an hour down the road.”

He assumed I had a car. I didn’t. For me, it’d be a lot longer than half an hour. It looked like I’d be spending another night outside.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” He reached into the display of protein bars and grabbed a handful. “Here, take these.”

“I don’t—” I stopped myself. This was for my little one. “Thanks.”

“Sorry I sounded like such a dick before. I thought you were—”

The bell dinged, indicating another person had come in. I took that as my cue to leave.

As I passed the other person, I realized what had happened. The person was dressed in makeup straight out of a horror movie. He thought I was here for whatever that guy was. Great.

“Little one, your dad looks like he belongs in a horror movie contest,” I told the baby, rubbing my bump in slow circles.

But at least we had two sandwiches and some protein bars. That was more than I had when I got here. I was at the point in my life where I had to be grateful for every little thing—even if it was old food and yucky bars.

Once outside, the cold air hit my face. I really needed to find some sort of shelter. My sleeping bag was not the best, and at most staved off the worst of the cold. Maybe luck would stay on my side, and I’d find an old barn along the way to sleep for the night.