Chapter 2

***Lara***

Dinner began with the usual friendly banter. I smiled and nodded at appropriate intervals, as was expected. Half way through the main course, the conversation turned toward the serious matter they actually came to discuss.

“Of course, Denzel. This situation hits close to home. Most of the missing girls are very close to my daughter's age, as you know,” my father gave me a soft smile and reached over to squeeze my hand. He actually did seem worried about me. But then it clicked. I was the perfect, convenient prop in this discussion.

My mother, on the other hand, didn’t seem on board with the show. She shot me a look, like somehow this was all my fault. I wasn’t surprised. She always found a way to blame everything on me. Literally everything. I smiled sweetly at her. What else could I do?

Kiren followed her lead and shot me an equally venomous look. My father smiled extra lovingly and squeezed my hand again, almost reassuringly. The simple and innocuous gesture just seemed to irritate my mother and brother more. Both growled softly. I wasn’t even allowed the tiniest bit of affection. Jerks.

“Is there anything else we should know?” Alpha Denzel asked, possibly referring to the odd reactions from my family just now. I’d met him once before, maybe 5 or 6 years ago. I remember thinking he was perceptive then too. He asked me if I was OK at a moment when I was struggling to keep my hurt inside. He’d somehow seen it. I wasn’t brave enough to talk about it though. I didn’t know anything about him. I barely trusted my family. How could I trust a stranger? 

“No, no,” my father laughed, refocusing my attention on the present day. “My wife is just very protective of her only daughter. She’ll be 18 soon, you know,” my father said. Implying that my mother and brother were worried that I might leave them soon, that maybe I would find a mate or something equally unlikely. That was the kind of thing other moms would be worried about. Then toss that on top of the obvious threat we were just discussing and it seemed like a plausible scenario, painting my mother in a caring, nurturing light. Good job, Dad.

Alpha Denzel didn’t seem convinced. Smart man.

“Oh well, I’m sure she’ll find a mate who loves her. There’s nothing more important to a wolf than their mate.”

I smiled sweetly again, hoping it didn’t look like the pained grimace it felt like. I was starting to hope my face wouldn’t crack because of all those fake smiles. I’d long ago decided I didn’t need a man or a mate to validate me. Finding a mate was not on my bucket list. I mean if my own mother and brother couldn’t love me, what hope did I have that a mate would accept me for who I am? Especially in this pack of hypocrites.

Still, I had to admit to myself that the concept was appealing; that there’s someone out there who was created just for me. Someone who would love me and accept me - at least that is how the mate bond is supposed to work. For me, the fact was that they would turn me down without a second thought because of the rumors and conjecture my brother spread at every opportunity. In fact, he’d specifically ordered it. Now the thought of my mate rejecting me, that was significantly less appealing.

“You understand how the mate bond works,” Alpha Denzel added, offering a reassuring smile to my mother and a light-hearted laugh to me.

I saw a flicker of hurt cross my mother’s face. My father too seemed to have an odd reaction, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at mom. Interesting. I didn’t have time to dissect that information though, as Alpha Denzel addressed me directly.

“Are you looking forward to meeting your mate?”

“Not really,” I answered honestly. “Not yet, I mean. It’s just I’d like to finish my education and see a bit of the world first.”

“Smart girl,” he chuckled.

“As ecstatic as I was when I found Denzel, I was glad I’d traveled first,” his Luna, Corrine, spoke. That surprised me. Most werewolves think of very little else but their mate once they hit their teen years. Well, that and sex. Sex with their mate. Maybe a bit of sports or school, but as far as I could tell from overheard conversations, it was sex, sex, and more sex that was on the minds of most people around my age and above. I was the only girl my age not obsessed with mates or what you do with them.

The rest of the meeting, slash dinner, progressed without a hitch. For once, I actually enjoyed it. I spent most of the time after that talking to Corrine about her travels and expanding my bucket list. There was so much outside this pack I wanted to see. Yet I couldn’t help the feeling that something else was coming for me. It felt like that saying, ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’, like some unknown, looming complication.

————-

The next day was the day I’d originally planned to pull my disappearing act, but now if I did, Alpha Denzel and Luna Corrine would ask questions. That would potentially embarrass my pack or possibly leave them vulnerable. I didn’t want to do that to my dad or the innocent people in the pack, there were still some my brother and mother hadn’t poisoned against me. I never understood why my father just stood by and let it happen. He seemed to care about me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the hypocrisy.

Instead of hitting the road, I went through my plan over and over again in my head. I avoided my family and our visitors as much as I could without seeming rude. Though I was sorely tempted to talk to them about a pack transfer. Perhaps I could still attend the human college, but if I swore myself to another alpha, then I wouldn’t technically be a rogue.

It wasn’t that my family was abusive, not physically anyway. Well, my brother occasionally, but I thought some sibling fights were normal, right? However, for almost a decade it had been clear that only one of my three immediate family members actually wanted me. After a while, that takes a toll on your mental health and self-worth. Both of which were worn dangerously low in me.

As I caught sight of Alpha Denzel and Luna Corrine, holding hands and walking through my garden, I was reminded again of his words about mates: “There’s nothing more important to a wolf than his mate.”

My 18th birthday was only days away. That was the blessed day your wolf could sense your fated mate for the first time. Well, others considered that a blessing. I considered it a curse and, as such, I was determined to get out of this pack before that day, my self-imposed deadline. I couldn’t risk finding a mate in this pack. If he didn’t reject me on sight, which was highly likely since my loving brother had made it clear to everyone that that was what was expected. That was not a humiliation I was looking forward to. Thank you very much. But if he didn’t reject me, then what? Would I be stuck here if I met my mate? Would the magic of the mate bond not let me leave? I could not risk that. I needed my independence. I’d probably get tied to a guy who didn’t want me anyway. But what if he did? And I became a trapped little wallflower, never able to grow. Or what if he tried to use me before he rejected me? It was rare but occasionally it happened. No, thank you, Sonny Jim. Not happening to me. I needed out of this pack by my birthday.

Besides, even if this mythical mate didn’t reject me and by some miracle actually wanted me, I’d still end up shackled to this pack because of some stupid bond that forced some jerk to be attracted to me, and vise-versa, against both of our wishes. And eventually my asshole brother would be the alpha. That wasn’t particularly appealing either.

“You’ll miss this garden,” my dad's voice sounded behind me. I’d been sitting beside my raised beds picking at the grass lost in thought.

“I will,” I answered, not denying what he’d implied. I did love this garden. I had a natural green thumb, to the point that it was practically magic the way plants thrived under my care.

“One day honey, I’ll explain everything,” he said. I was used to this kind of cryptic crap. I’d long ago given up digging for answers, so instead of snapping at the dangling bait I just smiled sadly and focused on the colorful flowers and their amazing scents. 

I would miss my garden.

Explanations and excuses didn’t matter to me anymore. For years I’d begged to know why my family treated me the way they did, but now I was finally leaving. What good would their reasons do for me now? Not that I’d told anyone that I was leaving yet. I’d written a letter to my dad. Just my dad. It was sealed and would be slipped on his desk for his eyes only moments before I left. That was the plan.

Judging by his words though, my dad already knew I was leaving. And he knew why.  “I’d like you to stay. But I know you won’t. So I just need you to promise me that you will always be vigilant with your safety,” he said.

“Dad,” I stated, but he cut me off.

“Honey, you have heard what’s going on around the packs lately. We don’t know the why or the who, and you fit the average target description perfectly. I’m worried about you leaving. I could order you to stay.”

“I know, daddy. But I need to live my own life. Away from this pack. Away from …” my family… I wanted to say.

After years of self-doubt and personal reflection, I’d finally realized that there was nothing wrong with me. Whatever my mother's problem with me is, is just that - her problem. Not mine. And I’m over the period of trying to figure out what’s wrong with me so I can fix it, desperate for her approval. Fuck her approval. Fuck her opinion. Fuck the whole pack for bullying an innocent child. And mostly fuck my father for letting it happen.

My only option was to start over.

“You get your stubbornness from me. Even if I order you to stay, you’ll find a loophole and leave. So while you are away you will keep in touch with me at least twice a week.” 

That was not a request. “And promise me you will never take your ring off,” my father added with a resigned, sad kind of smile.  This was the ring he’d given me on that disastrous ninth birthday, the same time as my brother pulled that weird one-eighty on me. When he gave it to me my father said it was my great grandmother's, a family heirloom, and a good luck charm. That last bit is clearly bullshit if you ask me. Good luck has never been my companion.

“I can do that, dad.” I leaped up from my seat on the grass to give him a goodbye hug. It was a pretty ring and, somehow, I always felt like it gave me peace.