Chapter 3

Their arms stay wrapped around me for the longest time. It's strange to be in such proximity to other people. It took me months to allow Natalie to get near me, even more, to let her touch me; it was years before I let her hug me, but with them it's almost easy.

It takes what seems like hours for the tears to dry from our eyes. Distance has its own way of destroying the soul, and the cracks in our bodies are already showing.

When the two other people in the room become too much to ignore, we're forced to stand and separate.

Alpha Jason is about my height and lean; from his frame, I'd never say he was the alpha of this pack. His body appears more prepared to sit behind a desk than to fight, but this, I know, is an illusion. To become a leader, he had to undergo a series of cruel tests, and brutal challenges. He was crafted to defeat all potential opponents.

As I stare into his almond eyes, I sense the danger that lurks underneath. I remind myself that a fighter isn't only measured by his strength but also by his cunningness. I'd rather compete against a brainwashed, bulky warrior than a treacherous fox like him.

His glare is overpowering. I sense every particle of my being recoiling from him, and I feel no more than a child preparing to be scolded.

"I don't mean to disturb your family any more than I already have, Gabriel, but you know the system." His voice is strong and assertive, leaving no space for doubt or opposition.My mother lays a hand on my shoulder to protect me from harm. I stare at Alpha Jason, assessing him should he pose a threat.

I can practically hear my father gritting his teeth and feel the anger that is quickly burning through him.

"There must be another way. She's already been through enough. The last thing she needs is a trial."

It's a pointless argument. The law dictates that any werewolf in contact with hybrids or hunters must be subjected to an inquiry from the Council. It's inevitable.

My mother's hand trembles and she subtlety moves to stand in front of me, using her body as a shield to protect my own.

A few strands of thick black hair fall onto Jason's forehead, contrasting with his slightly pale skin. He's beautiful in an unusual way. His features are uncommon in our world, and maybe that's what sets such a striking difference. He must have taken his role only a few years ago, yet his posture screams of certainty and power.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'll hand her to you."

"Gabriel," my mother warns sharply.

He has to control his temper. It is no good to have an alpha as an enemy, he'd annihilate us viciously, and no one would even blink. Even though the Council exists to prevent abuse of power, disrespecting an alpha is a grave infraction, and it is not taken lightly.

Jason's eyes flicker with something I can't decipher but instantly repel. He ought to be used, by now, to be condescended to for his tender age, and he despises it. He must have scratched and crawled his way to his position, and he will not be undermined.

"Choose your words very, very carefully." The threat in his tone doesn't go unnoticed. My mother pulls my father back, fearing that he would condemn us to a substantial sentence.

"Accompany them to the car," the alpha addresses his warrior, without losing my father out of sight.

Jason's gaze lingers on me. His full lips stretch into a small grin. "I'll see you soon." His words hold a promise. I shiver despite the heat emanating from the afternoon sun. I nod before whirling on my feet away from him.

Tyler guides us swiftly through the woods, never leaving my father's side. They interact with each other in such a comfortable and easy way that they've undoubtedly been friends for a few years.

They walk on my right and my mother on my left. This formation allows them to protect me should it come to an attack. Little do they know that if a hybrid intersected us, his main concern would be me. I know all of their tricks and maneuvers, their protocols, and their objectives. It's only a matter of time before they crowd me, demanding my death.

"I've missed you," my mother says lowly, for my ears only.

I startle at her raspy voice. Her brown hair is so light that it seems blonde in the places where the rays of the sun kiss her scalp. It cascades down her back in a straight, delicate line and is infinitely precious. I'm mesmerized by the softness in her eyes and how they seem to sparkle as she smiles at me.

She walks with her head held high, her posture impeccable. Despite her seemingly weak form, she's armed with a couple of weapons holstered on her belt, one knife on each side. A black leather stripe connects the belt to a side pocket in her middle thigh. She appears capable of overpowering anyone that stands in her way. She looks regal in this scenery: a queen crunching the leaves of her territory.

My throat fills with everything I longed to tell her while imprisoned, but I swallow every last word. I don't want to burden her with the terrors that cradle me at night or the fears that devoured the last remains of my soul.

In the end, I settle for a simple but absolute truth. "I missed you too."

The smile she flashes me then could light up the world. I'm overflown with gratefulness to be the receiver of such a gift.

My happiness is brief, though, as a rustle in a nearby bush makes me halt. My mother shoots a confused look in my direction. I hold a finger to my mouth to indicate to her to be quiet. My father stops a few meters ahead, and they all stare at me.

My hand descends to my mother's belt, and takes out a knife. They're quick to follow my lead and extract their weapons. This act will be a matter of fortune rather than talent. If they haven't changed the codes, I can take them out of hiding.

I look at my companions and watch their reactions as one by one, they realize that we're not alone. As I sniff the air, I know that we have at least two hitmen, but they rarely travel alone. A hybrid or more must be with them, and as they don't have a scent, it's impossible to know what we're up against. I hope we're enough.

I raise the knife above my head, the metal cold and soothing in my hands. There's a calm that rushes through me seconds before a fight when there's only me and the weapon and the sound of my own heartbeat.

I whistle a low tune, and the sound carries itself through the silent trees. In that second, I become acutely aware of my surroundings. The hunter behind the bush rises, gun in hand, ready to fire. His finger never finds the trigger, though, as my knife sails through the air, landing with a loud thud on his chest.

I run to his position as bullets rain down on us, trying to attract the fight to me. I grab his gun, feeling the familiar weight on my hands, and aim at a man covering behind a tree with deadly precision. He dies without knowing his murderer.

I crouch to analyze the situation. Tyler is hand in hand in combat with a hybrid while my parents fire with abandon. I glance around and identify a few more hiding, and a strategy begins to form behind my eyelids.

A loud groan permeates the air, piercing my eardrums. I turn with growing dread on my stomach to see my mother grabbing her left arm. My father blocks her from view and fights on with renewed rage.

I find the culprit in a second. Hot blind fury scorches my insides as I dash to the hunter's position and kick the gun out of his hands as he lies on the ground. I don't recognize him from the compound, but as his eyes stray to the mark on my neck, I realize he was warned about me, he knows that he just signed his death.

I take advantage of his moment of distraction to attack. My feet crash on his shoulders, and he screams in agony. He struggles in vain against my restraint. I squat and grab his head. In one swift motion, I snap his neck.

I stand up and see the corpse lying beneath Tyler's feet and two others ahead.

I sense someone behind me, but before I can do anything, his form tumbles to the ground. My mother's shot was fatal.

I breathe in the fresh odor of the trees as three sets of eyes examine me. I imagine that their minds are swimming with unanswered questions. They just saw me kill three men without flinching. I thought I'd have more time to explain my past before they saw this side of me.

I cast my eyes downwards as I trace back to the first corpse. I grab the knife and pull it in one stroke, ignoring his lifeless eyes.

I wander back to the small group while I clean the blood off the weapon on my worn trousers.

"Are you okay?" I ask my mother.

"It was nothing," she replies and uncovers the wound. The bullet nicked her skin but didn't perforate it.

My father tends to her in a frenzy of concern. I whirl on Tyler, hardening my gaze as I approach him.

"Who knew I was here?"

He stares me down with bewilderment. He steps over the fallen body and comes impossibly closer.

"Who taught you how to fight?" His question comes out menacingly.

I feel my parents' gaze burn through me, but I ignore it. "That's irrelevant. Who knew?"I race through the memories of today. In my mind, I see Richard following me, but he was captured minutes after; he had no way of knowing where they were taking him. I remember Eliot, and Alan. However, they're safely hidden inside the packhouse, and they wouldn't betray their alpha.

The hybrids had no way of obtaining this information unless someone warned them. I could have been miles away from this pack, and yet, here they were. It has to be the traitorous alpha who sacrificed me so his bastard daughter could be free. A life for a life.

My thoughts sprint at high speed. Jason was too young when I was taken; he could never be the father, which means either Alpha Martin did it or they communicated with the other Alphas.

"The Council, of course," I mutter. I look up at Tyler. "You informed all the Alphas, didn't you?"

The warrior's features harden. He's about to retort when Jason rushes to us. The words seem to drown as I digest another betrayal. I need to find the traitor and fast.

After a few minutes, we're finally allowed to leave without another ambush. The drive is long and awkward. I'm in the backseat while my parents occupy the front, and there's an immeasurable distance between us created by years of absence.

I play with the fray ends of my dirty sweat to avoid acknowledging my mother's inquiring gaze. The necklace around my neck seems to pulse, reminding me that I'm not alone and that I'll always have a piece of Natalie and Adrian with me.

As the hours stretch, I imagine how they would react if they were here with me: how they would cling to each other, relieved that they could finally express their love. Natalie would analyze every single aspect of the view, while Adrian would marvel at the car's engines.

If I close my eyes, I can hear their joined laughter and feel their arms wrapping me tightly. In the darkness, I can pretend that they're alive and free and with me. Grief attacks me with a powerful blow. My chest is tight, and my throat is constricted. I'd give anything for one more minute with them: to apologize, to cry against them one last time, to tell them how much I love them.

Pain is consuming. It creeps underneath my skin and spreads through every cell, every pore until my entire being disappears underneath it. Now that they're gone, freedom feels like a cursed gift. Freedom means nothing without them.

When I come to my senses, hours have passed, and we're standing in front of a small house. The sun is setting as we climb out of the car. For the first time, I'm left alone with my parents, and I don't know how to react. We're strangers strung together by the bonds of blood.

I concentrate on the details of my new home. There's a small garden in the front yard, the grass is short, showing the care it receives. A few flowers sprout here and there in various colors, and I'm mesmerized. We ascend the three steps in silence as we reach the entrance door.

"Welcome home," my father proclaims in a small voice.

I stare at the white-painted walls, the comfy kitchen on my left, and the living room on my right, separated by a short hallway. I take in the scenery around me in disbelief. I never thought I'd live to see this day.

They lead me around the house in a solemn procession. They hesitate when we reach the last door on the second floor. They enter the room without a word, and I follow. I almost gasp for air. I'm in a little girl's bedroom, my bedroom. The lightest blue I've ever seen covers the walls in tandem with the curtains. There's a bed near the window with a bedspread full of clouds. A bunch of toys occupy the floor, and a shelf containing children's books stands on the opposite wall of the bed.

As I absorb the space, a few flashes enter my tired brain. I lived here. I remember my father carrying me to bed and my mother tucking me in. I was so loved.

"You," I clear my throat. "You kept everything?" The sound is so low that, for a second, I wonder if I spoke out loud.

My mother's eyes fill with tears. "We couldn't give them away."

I nod, speechless for once.

"We can change your room if you want," my father continues.

Sudden tiredness settles over my bones, threatening to take me under. These past weeks, I barely slept, too preoccupied with the plan to get some very needed rest.

"Thank you." These words aren't enough to scratch the surface of my gratitude.

My mother leaves to find clothes for me to change into. In those seconds, my father breaks the silence.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispers. The agony in his ocean eyes plagues me, and something inside me shatters.

His arms find my shaking form and pull me close to his firm chest. I fight against the reflex instinct to push him away and, instead, crush him to me. I allow my tears to fall freely for the relief, the hurt, and all the things I lost in these years. I cry for Natalie and Adrian, that won't get to see another day because of me.

A sob wrecks my form, and he holds me tighter. In his arms, I never felt more ruined. I'm not the daughter they dreamed of; I'm a murderer and a coward. I don't deserve their love.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," his voice breaks. I realize that the hell that I lived may be nothing compared to the one they suffered.

I don't know how much time I spend in his embrace. Eventually, we part, and I see the tracks the tears left on his face. My mother stands frozen in the doorway, a bundle of clothes in her arms, crying silently.

Her trembling lips find my forehead while her hand reaches to cradle my face. A rush of affection floods me.

With one last lingering, watering smile, they leave to let me rest. I wipe my cheeks as my lungs fill with air for what feels like the first time.

I change into her clothes quickly and enter the bed. It's been years since I left a mattress beneath me. I'd forgotten how comfortable it could be.

I glance at the window as my eyes begin to close. A deep-rooted sense of safety overcomes my being as sleep takes me under. I'm finally free. I'm finally alive.