Page 46 of Howling
Iroyally fucked up.
Not only did I lose my shit, but I also exposed my darkest secret to four very dangerous men, and the sense of inevitability threatens to crush the last of my spirit.
Despite every mile that flies past, the noose around my neck continues to tighten. If the Orion couldn’t track me before, they will have no problem hunting me down now. Even if I put distance between me and the incident, the council grants them access to amulets that will allow them to track me once they lock on to my signature.
I’m aware that I’m spiraling, defeated by the fact that anyone would believe I murdered Givvens. Tears of frustration and rage threaten to spill from my eyes, and the grief that has haunted me day and night since I left is almost too much.
But tears aren’t going to get me out of this mess.
Yet no matter how much I try to come up with a plan, I’m stuck. I can’t just keep wandering the countryside. The Orionwill never stop hunting me, but the thought of giving up is untenable. I’ve lost too much.
I refuse to let the council win.
I need to find a way to beat them at their own game.
The obvious answer is to embrace my magic, but I suspect learning how to use it will be a whole other issue. It takes years to master, and I don’t have that time.
The silence in the car is suffocating. I’m hyperaware of each of the men, their closeness scratching at my last nerve, and I clench my teeth to keep from snapping at them to stop fucking watching me like I’m a mouse trapped under their paws.
They know more about me than anyone else on the planet, and it’s setting off my paranoia. The dark part of me says there is only one solution, one way to keep them quiet, and that’s to kill them. My wolf protests, growling at the back of my mind that they’re innocent.
Even if I could override the moral code Gramps instilled in me, I’m not sure I could force myself to do it.
I’ve never killed in cold blood, and I flinch away from the thought of having their deaths on my hands.
That leaves me with only two other options. One, I could force them to forget that I ever existed. I could pull over the car, order them out, and wipe myself from their memory.
My throat tightens at the prospect of losing that connection.
It’s hard enough without Gramps to guide me, and I fear what will happen if I cut myself off from everyone. I’ll become a shell of a person. I’ll become like the council—my only thoughts of surviving. Once I go down that dark path, there is no turning back.
That leaves one last option—trusting them.
I nearly snicker. Everyone in Kyperian would sell me out in a heartbeat. I would be a fool to believe they are any different. Mywolf’s ears swivel, and she paws the ground lightly in my mind, urging me to have faith.
I snort at the stupidity.
Hope is more dangerous than the Orion sitting next to me.
One false move, and I will be living out my existence as a slave.
Is that something I’m willing to risk?
As I try to untangle the mess of my life, I realize I don’t really have a choice. I’ve never had a choice. Gramps warned me that life was going to get harder. I thought I could decide my own future, but I was a fool, and he died for my mistakes.
I refuse to let that happen to anyone else…which means I need to either trust them with the full truth or cut bait and run.
Tension leaves my spine as I finally come to a decision, and I melt back against my seat. As I cut through the back country roads, I glance at the Orion sitting next to me. I startle a little when I find him studying me, and I grimace when I realize the asshole hasn’t looked away from me since the fight.
What’s even more unnerving is that part of me preens under the attention.
I almost smack myself for my own stupidity.
As much as I don’t want to be that girl, my beast is fascinated by him. Though I grew up around the Orion, I’ve always done my best to stay under their radar. I made it my business to learn their routines and faces, yet I’ve never stumbled across him. I would have remembered.
“I didn’t kill him,” I blurt out, wincing when my voice cracks. For some reason, it bothers me that he thinks I would hurt a hair on that old man’s head. “He was the only good thing in that godforsaken place, the only one who ever gave a crap about me. He was my everything since I was a child.” I swallow the lump in my throat, tightening and releasing my grip on the steeringwheel as I struggle with my rage and sorrow. “I still can’t close my eyes without seeing him fighting for his life.”
A snarl rips from my throat, and I press my foot to the gas, the car leaping forward with a roar when the pedal hits the floor. “The bastard ordered me to leave. I tried to break his command. I should’ve been able to break his command…” The hoarse whisper hurts my throat, and I curse that I sound like a lost child.
