Chapter 11

Diana

With a start, I jerk up in a panic, my body vibrating with tension as my head whips around the room in alarm; my pupils blown wide as my eyes dart around, looking for the threat. I am completely disoriented and it takes me a full minute before I finally remember where I am, and another, for my racing heart to slow down.

My body sags from the rush of adrenaline and I collapse limply back on the bed, staring up at the dirty ceiling in a daze.

I’m safe…this is a human territory…I’m safe…they haven’t found me… and my mind whispers a dark ‘yet’.

As I bring my breath back under control, I slowly turn on my side, curling up in a fetal position and hugging my knees to my chest. A hiss escapes my lips as the movement sends sharp zaps of pain coursing through my body, reminding me of the multiple aches and bruises on my person. Injuries that I had accrued; more piling on top of the existing ones day after day- injuries I had had no time to treat, much too busy running for my life.

It had been a couple of weeks since I left the Zervos Pack and had to run as if the hounds of hell were after me…and in a way, they were…

I had religiously taken Billy’s advice and skirted around the wolf territories that I could avoid, and those that I couldn’t, I had sneaked through. And most often than not, I almost got caught- the cuts and bruises on my body are a testament to the close calls I have had while passing through those territories. But always, by some form of miracle, or maybe divine intervention, I managed to escape.

A couple of days after leaving my pack, just as I thought that I had gone far enough, I arrived at the outskirts of a pack just to be appalled when the guards took one look at me and seemed to recognize me. They had even called out to me. By name.

Ice chilled my blood as my heart sharply sank at the implication of what that meant. Not planning on being stupid enough to stay to find out, I turned around sharply and ran away, but not before catching the word “criminal” shouted by one of them and my heart sank even lower. 

I managed to catch a bus at the last second- right before one of the bulky guards caught me. I didn’t even have the luxury to care where the bus was headed, as long as it took me far away. 

That encounter told me two things. One; the Zervos Pack is looking for me. And two; they had publicly declared me a wanted fugitive.

That experience had taught me a valuable lesson. No matter how much I wanted to conserve my funds, it would be useless if I got caught. So from then on, I always made sure to use the public transport. If I could, I would hitch-hike- that is until I got too filthy for any drivers to pick me up. 

I survived on cheap doughnuts, chips and coffee from small diners. Sometimes when I was desperate enough, I would eat out of the garbage cans behind restaurants.

I slept in the streets, alleyways and shelters. Always on the run. Always with my head looking over my shoulder.

I finally made it to this place- where THIS is I don’t know, but for some reason, it seems to be far removed from any other werewolf territory. Even more odd though is that the wolves that had been chasing me from the pack I had just passed through for some reason stopped when I got close to this place.

Though as a wolfless Were, my senses are pitifully weak, I am still able to recognize the presence of my kind. However, upon getting here, I didn’t feel any barrier signifying that the place had been claimed by a pack. So far, it’s the safest any place has ever seemed to me. 

Therefore, my best bet is to stay a couple of days to rest and heal up, and maybe make some cash before leaving. I wouldn’t feel safe until I put a couple hundred, or a thousand more miles between I and the Zervos Pack. 

Dark thoughts of what is awaiting me back there should I let myself get caught makes a shudder of horror run down my spine and my body subconsciously curls tighter into itself.

A pang in my belly reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything in two days. Wincing, I uncurl my stiff limbs and get down from the bed, trudging my body that feels too heavy to the bathroom.

I wait for the water to get hot before stepping into the tray. The hot water beating down on my body feels heavenly on my aching limbs- a price I am willing to pay regardless of its sting on my open wounds. I use the soap bar to thoroughly wash my body and hair of the dirt and grime that had accumulated over the past weeks.

Staring at my reflection in the steamed-up mirror, I find that I still look like shit- but at least now I’m clean shit.