Life is all about choices. As humans we absolutely depend on our right to choose how we live our lives. We are the masters of our own fate and no one has the right to take this away. Choices and rights, the things we are all obsessed with.
I had never given it all that much thought. But then I had never had my ability to choose ripped away from me. I had never been left powerless to control my own destiny.
Having choices are great, until suddenly they aren't. When every path laid in front of you seems full of traps, choice becomes impossible. It becomes exhausting. Eventually it becomes no choice at all.
Death was standing in front of me. I had no doubt that this was the night I was going to die; in an empty park with freezing rain just starting to fall. My nothing-special life was going to end in a way I would never in a million years have seen coming. A nothing-special death sounded so much better right then.
5 years laterLocking up the diner was still a less than favourite job, not least because of the bad memory associations
"So Maggs, got any plans for tonight? Are you finally going to let me take you out on the town?" Cameron, one of the diner cooks, placed my order at the window and offered me a hopeful look.
"Hey a guy just asked to be seated in your section. I put him in the booth since it's quiet.""Thanks
"Guess who?" Large hands covered my eyes. My heart racing, I instinctively spun and hit my attacker square in the chest with all my strength. I was rewarded with a grunt of surprise as the person holding me flew backwards.
Tension was thick in the air. Breathing was proving to be a challenge and the urge to run and hide in the darkest corner of the house was strong. My white-knuckled hands gripped the arm-rests to try and stop me fleeing in fear.
Maggie: It was a disaster. Painful. Like stick a fork in my eye painful.Josie: Surely it can't have been so very bad?
It was the morning rush at the diner and all my body was begging me to do was to curl up and sleep for the next 24 hours. Running the night before had been fantastic but the day after always left me with a bone deep exhaustion.
6 months later Life with Max was...interesting. Good interesting, but never predictable. And I loved every second of it. Who knew that one of the missing pieces in my life was an arrogant, cocky, hot as sin werewolf? Letting down my guard and letting Max, and everything that came with him, in was a decision that I had never regretted. "I still can't believe Jonas has a guest house and I never knew about it." Huffing, I dropped the heavy box to the floor, glad it was one of te last. Unpacking was going to be a nightmare. "Not sure he thought you'd be interested, babe." Max waltzed in, a box under each muscled arm, not an ounce of strain on his face. "It works out well for us though." He was right. After month of long conversations and beggin on Max's part, altough he'd deny it, I'd agreed to move in together. I'd actually been ready a
Zachary was dead and I truthfully had no idea how I felt about that. In accordance with Pack law he had been executed for his crimes, with Max as his executioner. As a victim of his, and man I hated that word, I'd had the right to watch him die. I'd declined. I had no desire to see a man killed, and I really didn't want to see my boyfriend in the role of killer.
Tension was thick in the air, so heavy I was sure that even the unwitting humans could sense it. We were all in a state if high alert; watching, waiting. Zachary still hovered in the reception area, enjoying the results of his handiwork. Meanwhile I remained out of sight in the waiting room, praying that the others didn't lose track of him.
Chaos. That was the only word that got even close to describing the scene at the hospital. How many people had the psycho attacked? Worried relatives crowded the waiting room as my guards and I pushed our way through. The weight of panic pressed down on me.
The sun was sinking beneath the horizon casting a beautiful warm light across the clearing. It was an idyllic scene, one that would inspire poets and painters alike, there was no sign of the violence that was to come. This place of seeming peace and calm had been selected as the location for the fight, soon the serenity would be lost.
He would be fine. He would be absolutely fine.
I was back in the woods, a place I'd been hoping to take a break from after my last trip through them. This time though I wasn't running for my life, and I was with a Pack of wolves I'd trust with my life.
Another rock bit into the sole of my foot, causing me to stumble, but I refused to slow down. Running through the woods in wolf form would have been so much easier, but I wasn't able to shift back again so quickly, it took too much energy. Instead I had to rely on my less than brilliant human senses to help guide me through the wall of trees.
Escape. The single word that ran through my head every hour since Zachary had announced his 'distraction' plan. All I could now think of was that I needed to get out of here and tell the Pack about it, so that they could prevent the impending disaster.