Page 30 of Ravaged Wolf
I could put them on and go see what it’s doing outside. It’s March. The weather could go either way. Lion or lamb.
My wolf rises to her feet. She’s interested. She’s always bolder than me. At night, she takes our skin and runs through the wildflower fields and green forests in our dreams.
She watches me closely, her narrow eyes bright and eager. She wants to leave, but she thinks I’m going to chicken out.
She has good reason to doubt me. I haven’t decided to go for a walk since that night.
It feels like it should be a momentous decision, not something you just do on a random Tuesday.
I’d have to pass Mom to leave. Is she home? I stand up and tap the touch pad on my laptop to see the time. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Mom will be at work.
I’d have to take the elevator down to the lobby. There’ll be people, and they’ll stare. Maybe whisper. Everyone in the pack either pities me or blames me, but they all know what happened on the worst day of my life, and I bet they have all sent up prayers of thanks that they’re not me.
And I’m going to walk past them and out the front doors with nowhere to go?
I blink, suddenly aware that I’m not sitting in bed orstaring at the wall. I’m standing beside my desk. It wouldn’t take much effort to reach out and slide the closet door open. I don’t even need to take another step.
I don’t have to be that brave. Just a tiny bit.
I open the closet. Instead of my sneakers, I grab fur-lined boots that I can just slip on. It might be too warm already for them, but they’re comfortable, and they remind me of walking the Academy paths, books clutched to my chest, taking it slow and soaking in every second of freedom between classes.
Am I really going to leave this apartment? By myself?
I do have my boots on.
I glance at my bed. It’s unmade. I could get back in and crawl under the covers. There’s no reason I should push myself right this minute. Outside is always there. I can go out tomorrow. I’ve told myself this same thing a thousand times. No one is making me. No one blames me for hiding myself away. Mom, Aunt Catrin, Brynn, and Teagan have all said at some point that they can’t imagine what it must be like to have gone through what I did.
That makes sense because I couldn’t ever explain it.
My wolf sighs, lowers herself back down, and rests her chin on her front paws. She thinks we’re going to give up.
Well, what does she know? Why shouldn’t I go out?
It doesn’t have to mean anything. No one will know if I get to the front door and chicken out.
Like I’m a puppeteer, I command my feet to move. I will my hand to twist the knob, will myself to walk through the living room and out into the hallway, and oh—my heart stutters. This is where I caught Trevor’s scent and followed it down the stairs. The ache is a blade stuck in my chest.
I want to go back in time, grab his hand, and run.
I’m so alone.
I can’t fix that, so I decide to be just a little brave instead.I walk out the front door and down the hall. I push the button for the elevator.
It’s surreal. I haven’t done this without Mom or Aunt Catrin in years. The elevator arrives. The bell dings. I get on. The doors shush closed. My wolf hops back to her feet, her whiskers quivering. No turning back now.
Of course, I could. It’d be so easy. I haven’t seen anyone yet. No one will know that I tried and failed.
But maybe I’m not going to fail today. Maybe I’ll keep going. Why not?
By the time we get to the lobby, my wolf is at full attention. When I get my first lungful of fresh air, she stands stock still, alert and listening for danger, but as I cross the marble courtyard, she bursts into motion. She dashes to the border between us and then races in figure eights inside me, yipping with unbridled excitement. She wants me to run. She wants the wind in her face.
My lips quirk.
After the terrible night, she never came out again. She never even tried. She’s not trying now, but she is ecstatic to be along for the ride. I set off down the sidewalk, and she howls in delight.
I’m actually not sure if shecancome out, even though Abertha, the wise woman, reassured me that my wolf is fine.
The first night I spent in the infirmary, Abertha came by. She kicked Mom and Aunt Catrin out and asked me if I wanted a pup. I threw up in the bean-shaped plastic dish the nurse had left beside me on the mattress and burst into hysterics.
