Page 27 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“If we keep moving, we should be able to make it in about ten days. Although, with how my leg is going, it may take two or three weeks.” She sighs. “This sucks. But hey, at least I’m still alive, eh, Luna?”
Her lips curve in an infectious grin, and the cat rubs against her.
After rewrapping the wounds, she reaches for a walking stick I hadn’t noticed before. She tests her weight on it with a grimace, but her voice is determined. “Time to go, Luna.”
The cat suddenly bristles, fur standing on end as she stares directly at my hiding spot. She makes a low warning sound that raises the hair on my arms.
“What is it, girl?” Astra follows the cat’s gaze but sees nothing. It’s the early hours of the morning, and the sun hasn’t risen yet, so it is quite dark out. “Just forest sounds. Come on.”
She shoulders her knapsack and begins walking, favoring her injured leg. Luna leaps to her shoulder but continues to stare back at me with unsettling intelligence.
I wait until they’re gone before following, my mind spinning with questions. Whatever this woman is, she’s definitely not the powerful healer Alpha Gareth described. Which means the man was lying.
I decide to capture her now, but when I start to move, my wolf growls in warning, forcing me to a startled stop. It takes in her scent, and I feel it pacing inside my mind, anxious and a little tense.
It doesn’t want to harm her.
My wolf rarely reacts like this to anything. It’s curious about Astra, and as I gaze at her limping figure, I realize so am I.
Chapter Six
Astra
Six days. It has been six days since I escaped the pack, and even though my pace is slow, I’m starting to think I might actually make it out of this alive.
No angry wolves. No search parties. Alpha Gareth probably doesn’t care enough to waste resources hunting me down. Or maybe he really did buy that I’m dead.
I hope that’s the case.
I hope he and the rest of the pack think some shadow bear tore me to pieces and they never bother me again. The freedom I’ve felt in these past six days has been exhilarating. Despite the circumstances, the solitude of the forest is soothing. I don’t have to worry about anyone being cruel to me. I don’t have to hold myself so tightly wound up, waiting for the next blow to land on me. There’s nobody in this forest to look down on me or treat me like I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.
Weak laughter bubbles from my throat as I walk. “What do you think, Luna? Should we just stay here?”
Luna rubs her head against mine as I scratch behind her ears, my body aching. “You’re right. Life among the humans will be better. Andrew’s going to be so surprised when he sees us.”
Luna sits perched on my shoulder, her amber eyes scanning the trees around us. She has been more alert than usual, ears swiveling at every sound, but I figure it’s just the stress of being away from home.
The paranoia that has been eating at me for days is finally starting to ease. Every snapping twig, every bird call, every shadow had me reaching for my knife. But as the hours have turned into days and there has been no sign of pursuit, I’ve begun to believe I have actually pulled this off.
“We’ll reach the human settlements eventually,” I mutter, consulting my hand-drawn map. It displays certain markers that I have to cross to make sure I remain on the right track. “Just need to get far enough away from the pack, and then we can—”
A sharp pain shoots through my left leg, making me stumble. I grab onto a nearby tree for support, gritting my teeth as the burning sensation spreads from knee to ankle.
“Damn it!”
I roll up my pant leg and immediately curse at what I see. The gashes are angry and red, the edges looking worse than they did yesterday. Pus oozes from the deepest cuts, and red streaks are starting to spread up toward my thigh.
“This is not good, Luna. Not good at all.”
I apply more healing paste, but it’s barely helping anymore. The fever that has been building all day makes my hands shake as I rewrap my wounds.
“Should’ve healed by now,” I mutter, leaning heavily on my walking stick. “Even without proper shifter healing, I should be doing better.”
My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything substantial in two days. The dried meat I broughtis long gone, and my fruit supply is also dwindling. I may not have a wolf, but I’m still a shifter, and my body needs meat to heal properly, albeit slowly.
My good humor has begun to fade now as exhaustion creeps in. I open my knapsack and take out the last peach that I plucked from the tree in my garden the day before I left.
“I need protein,” I mumble, wiping sweat from my forehead despite the cool morning. “Real meat.” I glance around the forest, listening for signs of small game, but my ears are ringing slightly from the fever. “Should’ve brought my crossbow.”
