Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  I stop for a moment to process the conversation, and despite trying so hard to be strong, I end up sitting on the floor under the full force of my shower head, and sobbing my heart out until I can’t breathe with the effort. The doubts start to slide in, and I have to keep chastising myself for being so stupid.

  This is why he’s stayed away, because it makes both of us weak and clouds our judgment. I should have known seeing him would push him to contact me. It’s harder when we do, especially touching, and we did when we collided. I probably played on his mind after I left because of that simple moment, and I’m just as pathetic, sitting here crying over him. I shouldn’t have responded to him at all, he shouldn’t have reached out. It’s just proof that our bond is powerful, no matter what we try to do, and neither can control the way it keeps bringing us back together.

  I hate the fates and this infernal bond. It’s messing up everything and I’ve no control over my feelings anymore. I thought I was strong, but when it comes to him, I’m an idiot. I’m a fool for him in every way, and I can’t even stay mad, or hateful, no matter what he does, because the second I get a chance at connecting, I let him. I shouldn’t have left the link open all week; I should not have let myself get taken in for even a second. It should have been done the second I decided I was leaving and not given him a window of opportunity. I won’t make that mistake again, for sure.

  I yank myself up, pull my head out of my ass and aggressively wash down while refusing to break down anymore. It’s the past. It’s not where I need to be mentally.

  I wash my face until it feels raw, wiping away tears I don’t want to cry anymore, and shampoo my hair with vigor as though cleansing my head of thoughts and feelings. I finish up fast, tug a towel on when I step out, and focus all my efforts on drying quickly, rubbing my hair as dry as I can get it, before combining it into a sleek ponytail and pulling on fresh underwear and clothes. I slide on jeans, a tank, and sweater, pull on some socks, and sneakers, and take a last look around the room for anything I want to add to my backpack.

  I tidy my room, make the bed, and then lay down on top of it and try to force myself to take a nap to kill some time, staring blankly at the ceiling and refusing to let my mind wander back to him, us, or this crappy situation.

  There’s a noise outside my door that makes me flinch, and I pause, stare at it, praying to god he hasn’t decided to come here and start this shit all over again. It’s what he does… and I hold my breath, listen intently, my own heart beating loudly in my own ears as panic sets in.

  I can’t see him… I can’t let him sway me, or touch me, or get close. My heart will betray me if I do.

  It’s followed by the squeak of one of the cleaning carts and I exhale in relief when it rolls right on by my room and fades into the distance. My body weak with relief, and I sprawl out star shaped on my bed, exhaling so heavily I let out a whoosh noise and then moan at my own stupid despair.

  Stop freaking out, Alora. You’re going to get yourself in such a mess and not be able to follow through. Relax, breathe, count.

  I put everything into doing just that, remember the techniques I used to use when I stayed in the home and couldn’t relax or sleep on nights when everything got to me too much. I picture a meadow, a sweet-scented field full of pretty flowers, and one by one as I walk through them, I count the heads, picking them out, touching them as I go. I visualize the colors, the feel of their softy silky petals on my fingers, and the way the subtle scent blows around on the breeze. Coming to me in mixed smells as they all dance and sway in ripples. It helps me drift into a calmer state of mind. The noise of nature drowning out everything else in my mind’s eye. If I can just focus my energy for a little while longer, then I can get through this. Once I’m out of here and on my way, it’ll be easier.

  It seems to work, I drift into a semi hazy state of rest and before I know it, an hour or more has passed and it’s getting dull outside.

  I come to, aware I’ve lost time and must have slept, blinking at the sudden light change of the space around me and check the clock on my wall. I’m shocked that it’s been more than a couple of hours since I came up here already. I guess I spent a long time in the shower to begin with and I hop up woozily, pacing to bring the nerves back in line that are firing up and wakening my senses.

  It’s early yet, but I don’t think I have it in me to wait any longer, and I stalk to my window to look out over the back of the pack house. It’s deserted back here, still too light for the guards to take up position and maybe it’s a sign I shouldn’t wait until the dusk hour. Maybe too many will be out there, and I might not be able to make up excuses if I get stopped trying to make my way out. Everyone should be running around, doing chores right now, so I might actually have a better chance if I do it now.

  A quick plan comes to mind, and I turn, picking up my damp towels from the laundry and wrap them haphazardly around my backpack, adding my sweats so they look like a bundle of dirty clothes. I had intended scaling down my window later if I could, but this way I can walk through the house, as though I’m late for laundry duty. If anyone sees me then I’m just collecting clothes and I can use the exit in the hall before the laundry room to access the rear of the house. It’s a solid plan, and I don’t waste time in pulling myself together.

  I bundle my faux pile up in my arms, checking in the new mirror that was hung in here the other day to see if my backpack is on show. Satisfied it isn’t, I head to the door, take one last look around my room, and take a deep steadying breath.

  It’s time to do this.

  I use one hand to haul it open, slide out, and head left towards the back stair down to the first floor. The one that’s closest to my door and brings me out in the same narrow corridor that leads to the back exit and the laundry door. It’s perfect. I don’t know why I didn’t click on this before and maybe this is the fates trying to make up for messing with me.

  I pass a few people who are lugging carts and hoovers from room to room and keep my head down, not really noticed by them, wishing I’d worn a hoody so I could pull it up, but it’s too late now. I stick on my route, turn into the stair, scale it in seconds in hyper speed and then head along the final corridor to freedom.

  Soon as I get near the door I look around, see no one is out here despite the hustle and bustle and steam coming from the nearby closed door to laundry, and head out the back door instead. No one is back here either, oddly. It’s either good fortune, or someone up there is giving me a break. I’m aware a lot of windows look this way though and I’m still not free and clear.

  I unwrap my bag, pull it onto my back and kick my dirty clothes and towels in a nearby bush. Look around before sticking up against the house, back sliding along the harsh brickwork, eyes darting all around me to check no one is around. I almost crawl under the window to the room I’m meant to be in right now, holding my breath every inch of the way. Heartbeat’s crazy fast and racing, my breaths shallow and hurried. My face damp with perspiration because I’m scared to hell of being caught and marched to Juan Santo.

  I stick in the flower beds, stepping over them so I don’t trip, up tight to the walls, and duck under every window I get to. Taking it slow, trying to remain silent as I do, and battling my own shaking limbs. I’m heading for the tree line which runs one side of the manor and once I get in there, I can run as fast as my body allows me, relatively unseen in its dense close-knit woods. It extends for a couple of miles right out of the valley and into the farmlands beyond. I can’t turn as I don’t want to ruin my clothes now, I only have two full outfits, but I should be able to speed out without doing it.

  I hold my breath when a door swings open behind me, freezing in place, half crouched, and eyes widening in horror. I glance back, seeing it swing out into view and my heart skips a beat, sweat rolling down my forehead from my hairline. No one comes out, though a voice waves my way closer than I expected.

  “Yeah, leave it open, it’s like a god damn sauna in here. It’s inhumane making u
s work in this shit for hours on end.” I don’t recognize the female voice and whoever opened the door mumbles in response, retreating inside, and fading in volume level.

  I exhale, relaxing heavily, thinking my legs might give out with that little moment of shock, move my ass back into gear and run crawl the rest of the way, feeling lightheaded.

  As soon as I hit the tree line, I pull myself behind the biggest trunk I can find and use it as a viewpoint to check if anyone saw me come over here. Taking a much-needed minute to pull myself together, breathe properly, and lean up against the rough bark until I regain my strength, and the wobbliness in my leg’s fade. I check my surroundings, surprised that there is literally no one at all out here, but as Juan has made it clear for days the vampires can’t be out in daylight, I guess that’s why. Everyone is busy doing what they’re meant to be doing, and I can hear voices on the wind from the front of the manor, hinting that a lot of those with no chore work are assembled in the front field. I won’t get another chance like this.

  I put my head down, turn into the direction I want to go and set my legs in motion with no intention of slowing down, stopping, or looking back, until there is at least five miles between me and Radstone. I feel like I may have a heart attack as soon as I set in motion, but I keep one strong thought at the center of my mind.

  I’m finally free…. don’t let up until I’m sure of it.

  Survival

  It’s been around eleven days since I left the valley, and I can honestly say, it’s finally beginning to get easier in some ways, but not all. I was a fool to believe it wouldn’t be hard, on so many levels, and I still can’t get my head around my own naivety. Knowing then what I do now, I don’t think I would have left at all.

  It’s not just the survival factor that gets to you, it’s the isolation, the loneliness, the living in constant high alert as you have to be aware of all that is around you, and the gnawing fear that sits in your gut hour after hour. I’m on edge, hyper-aware at all times, and mentally exhausted with it. Unable to ever really stop watching my back, and surroundings, always listening to make sure I’m safe, and afraid of even the tiniest of noises or movement near me. There are so many enemies in nature that I was oblivious to when living in the mountain bubble.

  I rarely sleep, so tuned into the noises of the forests, and gulleys, and caverns, I have walked through in recent days. Always listening for something to come out of the shadows at me, and have endless dreams when I do, of vampires and monsters pulling me from my tiny crawl spaces before devouring my helpless body. Every time I’m paralyzed with the same useless inadequacy as that day in the orphanage, and completely unable to defend myself. I see Sierra often in my dreams too, my infrequent naps, and that repetitive sentence she utters on her breath which always wakes me with a start. Always the same damn thing.

  “Save us.”

  I don’t understand why she haunts me still, and can only imagine it has to do with my broken heart, and the dregs of Colton in my memory banks, that get through the steel door I’m trying to force them behind. She was one of our last conversations and maybe that’s why she plays so heavily on my mind.

  The first few days were the worst and thankfully behind me now, and I think it finally sunk in what I was actually doing. The first night, looking for shelter, eating Doritos I had hastily packed in my backpack for supper, and trying to find a comfy way to lie in a shallow hard floored dug out on a hillside that barely concealed me. It was a shock to my system; having come from a lifetime of shelter and home cooked meals I took for granted. Even being myself all those years, I was never alone, or without food and a roof over my head, whereas now here I am, truly in solitude.

  I didn’t sleep at all at first, everything swirling in my head and the cravings for not just Colton, but Meadow, the sub pack, my room in the pack house, and the safety of the valley. It was all crying out to me, reminding me that I was barely grown and only newly turned and still so vulnerable in so many ways. I sobbed so much in the first few days, I thought it would break me and send me running back with my tail between my legs, but it didn’t.

  I weathered the storm, walking aimlessly south with no plan, and after getting the first few miles clear of the Santo lands, I didn’t see a need to run anymore. With enough distance between us, and no chance they picked up my scent to track me, because quite frankly, they would have caught up with me already if anyone’s been looking. I stuck to the rural areas, stayed away from roads, and moved through forests and woods, farmlands, and rougher areas to avoid humans too.

  I can still the see the mountain in the far distance as it gets further away with every day I trek, but I’m probably not even as far as I think I am. It just seems so much further because I took so long to get here. I’m afraid to turn in daylight, in case I’m seen, afraid to travel at night in case I run across vampires. I have to use human legs, and human speed, and without your heart and soul pushing you on, progress is slow.

  Day four was the worst day of my life, and it alone was almost what ended this adventure of mine. Just when I didn’t think it could get any harder mentally, my heart already breaking with the need to see another person, or hear another voice, I was side swiped by a pain that came out of nowhere.

  I thought I was dying. It was like someone reached into my chest cavity and grabbed my heart in the middle of my soul, twisted it around sharply and yanked it out, breaking every bone in its way. I crumbled to the ground, gasping for breath, every part of my rib cage, lungs, and core, slicing in agony, unable to catch air within me. Clawing at the ground as the pain shot through every limb and nerve ending.

  I ended up rolling around in the mud, clutching my chest and wailing like a wounded animal, as tears flooded my vision and my brain near shattered. It was the single most terrifying moment I have experienced, beyond the night the vampires attacked, and I was once again completely helpless.

  If felt like ultimate betrayal, the severing of my soul, and the only thing I could connect it to was Colton. The only logical answer to something so all-consuming, and yet for no obvious reason to its sudden happening. He must have done something strong enough to our bond to inflict this kind of hell, as it sure as hell was not his death, as I’m still breathing.

  Only two things could really hurt your imprinted like that, especially from so many miles apart. Severing the bond, which he couldn’t have, because I would be dead, or betraying the bond with an act that cannot be forgiven.

  Sleeping with Carmen and marking her.

  It has to be that; nothing else can compare to this agony! The thing they taught us about in school, about carrying that heartache when your fated mate destroys the bond. It all makes sense and for days after, fighting the fatigue and desperation it makes me feel, even still, I barely managed to cover more than couple of miles in total, before breaking down into a crumbling mess and sobbing all over again. It felt like he had taken a knife himself, cut me open wide, and ripped everything out before setting it alight. The emotional devastation was as bad as finding out my entire family was gone when I was just eight years old and it still lingers like a shadow, weighing heavily, keeping me in the dark, even now. It broke me. In so many ways.

  Mentally, as I wore on over the next days, I became numb and my will to run far from the mountain died a death. The reason I was going was primarily to outrun him and what he had to do. To try and not let it get to me, to distance myself from the pain and leave him to walk his own path without me. And yet the fates they delivered a blow that almost stopped me in my tracks completely, killing my will to find my future at all. They left me with the heavy sadness that consumes everything and just won’t lift. There’s nothing to run from anymore, it’s done. He did it.

  I’m just going through the motions now, without really engaging any kind of effort under this black cloud, my new constant companion. I walk, I find something to hunt and eat, I wash in rivers, I find shelter, and I sporadically sleep through the dark.

  The noises, the moveme
nt of nature all should bring me peace as a natural wolf, but it just serves to remind me how very alone I am, and that a wolf, is a pack animal. We don’t thrive alone, and it’s beginning to wear me down slowly. I can’t seem to ever really get any clear indication in my life about where I belong, or what I’m meant to do. Just that discarded worthless kid who wasn’t good enough to be mated, when even the fates imprinted me on someone. What hope is there for me?

  I don’t have a reason to go back anymore anyway. Not even for the sub pack, who never really belonged to me. Colton made his choice; I can feel it and we’re done. I need to push on and find somewhere to settle, accept it, man up, and stop crying like a stupid child, but nowhere ever feels right.

  On day eight I stumbled into an unknown dense dark forest at the base of a smaller mountain that was relatively secluded, finally finding somewhere that seemed easy to defend, was pretty, and had a good cave for a possible long-term dwelling. Nearby water source, dense enough to feel safe. Sheltered, and a good supply of wildlife for the hunting. No humans around for miles, and no signs that any had been there in forever.

  It didn’t take long to be chased out by feral wolves who caught my scent in their territory though. Natural wolves, not my kind, no, because my kind would probably have strung me up and gutted me for straying there. Outside of Radstone the packs still have deep grained rivalry and feuds.

  They chased me all the way to a cliff edge before I had to jump in the river below to escape unscathed. I don’t think I could have fought off more than a dozen rabid wolves on my own, and I don’t have the energy to turn and heal myself right now. I’m spent. I guess I’m not eating enough, not resting enough, and all I do is travel from dawn to dusk half-heartedly and flop down again. Maybe it’s not energy, but a lack of will power when I’m stuck in this mindset of hopelessness.