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Chapter Five
publish date:
2025-11-03 03:11:52
Latest chapter
Chosen wolf 64
For the first few minutes, I couldn't stop looking behind us. Every set of headlights made my heart jump. Every vehicle made me tighten my grip on the steering wheel. Every bend in the road had me expecting my father's men to appear."Stop looking behind you.""I'm not."Rebecca turned her head slowly toward me. I glanced at the mirror again."You're going to drive us into a tree.""I'm watching the road.""You're watching everything except the road.""I've managed so far.""Barely."I shot her a glare.
Chosen wolf 63
Five minutes. I folded the note so quickly I nearly tore it. Then I shoved it deep into my bag and looked up. My father was still speaking to a man near the entrance. I didn't recognize him, but judging by the way he shook Father's hand and immediately began apologizing for something, I assumed he was important enough to be useful and not important enough to make Father particularly happy. Perfect.I needed a distraction. My stepmother stood beside him, occasionally nodding along. The guards had spread out. One near the entrance. Two outside. Another beside the hallway leading deeper into the building. Not perfect. Definitely not perfect.You have five minutes.I am aware.Four minutes and fifty—Do not count.
Chosen wolf 62
The remaining two hours felt longer than the entire journey before them. My father didn't return to his papers. That was the first problem.The second was that one of the guards now sat in the front passenger seat, and another vehicle remained so close behind us that I could see its headlights every time I glanced through the rear window.The third problem was my stepmother. She kept looking at me. Not constantly. That would have been easier. Instead, every few minutes, I would feel her gaze settle on me. When I looked over, she'd turn toward the window or adjust her dress as though she hadn't been staring. She was thinking about what she'd seen. The man flying backward. I rubbed my palms against my skirt.Stop doing that.Doing what?Looking guilty
Chosen wolf 61
The river disappeared behind us, and for the next hour, nothing happened—which, somehow, made everything worse. With every bend in the road, I wondered if this was where something would go wrong, and every time we slowed, my heart jumped. Every unfamiliar vehicle made me wonder if it belonged to the witch's daughter, though it never did; of course it didn't, as we weren't at neutral ground yet.I rested my forehead against the cool glass. "How much longer?"My stepmother sighed. "Must you ask every hour?""I haven't.""You've asked three times.""That seems reasonable."My father didn't look up from his papers. "Six more hours."
Chosen wolf 60
Getting into the vehicle felt considerably less dramatic than walking away from the estate, though I wasn't sure what I had expected—perhaps thunder, or even a crack of lightning.I expected the Moon Goddess herself to descend from the heavens and announce that I was about to make either the bravest or stupidest decision of my life; instead, one of the guards simply opened the door."Miss.""Thank you." That was it, and I climbed inside. My stepmother followed me, which meant whatever tiny spark of freedom I'd felt promptly died. Wonderful. My father climbed in after her, which was even better. Once the door shut, I was officially trapped in a vehicle with the two people I was attempting to escape.You could bite them.We are no
Chosen wolf 59
I left home carrying just one bag, as that was all I was allowed; my stepmother had made that very clear. Before sunrise, I stood at the foot of my bed, staring at the small traveling bag while I mentally went through its contents for the third time.I had three dresses: two suitable for everyday wear, and one my stepmother considered appropriate for dinners and formal occasions. Along with these, there was a nightgown, undergarments, stockings, a hairbrush and comb, soap, a small sewing kit, and a pair of gloves.Everything a young woman might reasonably need when leaving her father's home to join her future husband's pack, though it was nothing that actually mattered to me. That part was intentional, as my father didn't want me arriving at my new home carrying pieces of my old life.There were no photographs, no letters, and no childhood keepsakes; in fact, I had nothing of my mother's and nothing sentimental at all. I kept away anything that might encourage me to c
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