Chapter Thirteen

Wynter

I wasn’t in the car long enough to shut the door before Calla squinted at me, her bright-magenta lips pursed. At least I thought she was squinting at me. Part of her makeup regime was putting on fake eyelashes that resembled black caterpillars crawling across the edge of her eyelids. Maybe the glue was making her eyes twitch.

My stomach dropped as my stepmother crossed her legs and picked at her dress. This was her signature move. She always did this before ripping into me for whatever crime I had committed. “Wynter, we brought you here to do the shopping and to handle some chores for us.”

“I did,” I said with a fake smile plastered on my face. Maybe there was a chance I could talk myself out of this.

“And yet, you had time to pursue other interests…”

There wasn’t a question, but her eyebrows bounced as though she was expecting an answer. “No. I finished just in time to see the three of you at the car.”

Calla’s cheeks had turned red despite the dusty-rose blush covering them. “You were out there talking to my Xerxes.”

I dared not look out the window to see if he was still there. At least I had a name now. A name to call out in the darkness of my nightmares, hoping that warm hand would reach out and pluck me from the night.

“I don’t know who Xerxes is…” Maybe they were talking about someone else. I was fishing for information more than defending myself. Violet was trying but failing to pin me down with her cold stare.

“You don’t know him?” Calla scoffed and shot herself back in the seat with her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s strange, since you were out there on the street in front of everyone, standing there while he touched you. He put his hand on your arm, and you don’t know him?”

I shrugged and went into defense mode. They weren’t even making sense. “I haven’t been into town since last week and only to get groceries then. How was I supposed to know who he was?”

Now it was Violet’s turn to light into me. She leaned forward in her seat. Her makeup was so caked on she was barely recognizable. Was that what alphas and male shifters liked? Judging by their discarded novels, shifter men liked girls with curves and no makeup.

Again, those novels had steered me wrong.

Violet grabbed for an apple from my bag but then thought better of it. “Maybe you’ve been doing more than grocery shopping in town.”

I could keep fighting, which would do no good. It didn’t matter what I said, I would be wrong. So, I went the other route, the one that demeaned myself but ended the entire drama early. “Are you kidding me? Look at me. All of you have pointed out how unattractive I am, both my face and my body. Why would any male, much less an alpha, be interested in me? Don’t be silly, Violet.”

She rolled her lips, getting her purplish lipstick on her teeth. “Then, why did he touch you?”

I laughed. “Because I almost walked out in front of a car? He didn’t want to see my guts splattered all over the road? Wasn’t in the mood to see a dead girl? I don’t know, but I didn’t invite it, and I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be allowed in town at all after today. We wouldn’t want something to happen to you, would we?”

Yes, they probably would.

As we drove away, my wolf reared up inside me. She wanted me to break free, and no later than now. She wanted nothing more than to shift right there in the car, break through the window, and run back to him.

But, why him?

I had to admit there was something in his touch—something I’d never felt before.

“No, of course we wouldn’t,” I replied and gripped the door handle harder and harder until my wolf gave up and I sank into anger.

***

After meeting the alpha in town, I felt different, changed somehow, and far less settled with my lot in life than in the past. I’d gone along with the treatment I received for so long, it had become a habit and something I didn’t expect to change. Constantly being told how worthless I was, and that I had no other options, by the only people I regularly spoke to… What else was I supposed to believe.

Somehow, I managed to make it through the day and all the work they made for me. Although the house was neat as a pin—except for anything my stepsisters might have just tossed around—there were always tasks to do. A toddler could pour a glass of juice with less spillage than they could. But, finally, dinner was over, the dishes done, and I was free to go to my shed and try to keep warm for the night.

Curled up under my blanket, I shivered and tossed, trying to find sleep, but the day had been far but ordinary. I did go to the grocery regularly, but my only conversations during those trips were with the checkout clerk and occasionally a stockperson if something was missing from a shelf. Oh, and the thrift store lady. And those conversations were either product or price related—or perhaps to do with the weather.

This had been set from my first trip. My stepmama was adamant that we not mingle with normals or something terrible might happen. She never said what, but the friendly overtures by those I came in contact with were to be firmly rebuffed, so, after a while, even the chatty clerks stopped attempting a true conversation with me.

And then, today, I’d met that alpha…and he had seemed so interested in talking to me. We’d heard about the new alphas coming to town, to visit, probably for the event. And the one I’d spoken to had “pack alpha” written all over him. Not local…although I’d been blindsided enough to make that mistake. Our alpha was much older and mated. The one I’d met today clearly had his own pack.

And that was even more intriguing. I’d lived in this area all my life and thought I was technically a member of the local pack; since my father died, I’d been isolated from them. And they sure hadn’t tried hard to change that.

Could I possibly switch to another? Just move away and join a new pack?

The possibilities lit up in my mind. Visons of showing up for pack dinners and runs, of helping with tasks at harvest time or when someone needed help, as I’d done when Father was alive, danced enticingly in my mind. Being welcomed instead of shut away…

That alpha had been so friendly. I could sneak away and approach him. Ask him to take me with him when he returned to wherever he came from. I would swear to work hard and do anything necessary if they would only accept me. I had some useful skills like dressmaking and cooking and cleaning that maybe would make me welcome?

He had seemed so nice. The feel of his grip on my arm, when he kept me from danger, still burned. Of course, he wasn’t mine, but a girl could dream…a little? Not about him as…as my mate. That was just too much to pray for. Just that maybe I could follow him and the others home when they left?

Hard work was my best thing, and they might like that in a pack member and…

But he didn’t know my secret.

Even if I begged, I’d have to tell him, and nobody wanted someone who couldn’t shift, in their pack. What a downer that would be. Tears dripped down my nose and into my pathetic bedding. Why even try?

But as I started to drift off, a snarl from deep within woke me right up. My wolf again, and she wanted out. She wanted freedom…she was not willing to live this half-life forever.