Chapter 56

Prue

My phone pinged and I glanced at it, seeing a message from Tessa. I smiled at that. Yes, we exchanged our phone numbers; I found it a great success towards trusting in me from her side. Bless her soul. I smiled and chatted with her about lastest news and we whined about tough teenager life exchanging meme's and gifs. Who ever invented teenager phase was a mean, grumpy, loveless persona.

In a fast moment I had reached Dad's. Thank Goddess for the training, as I could let all my frustration out in this session. Unfortunately, the Tom's secrets made me distracted, so I got more hits and jabs than usually. Even Dad raised an unimpressed eyebrow at me after some time.

"Again." I said with attitude, my body aching for a release.

"Focus, you'll get yourself killed."

We sparred for 30 more minutes with small improvements on my focus as I was plotting all the things I will do with the Alpha boy.

"Come on, Rue!" Dad exclaimed, frustrated. "What's going on with you?" I breathed hard with my hands on my hips while I looked at him. I wanted to mentally jab him as well.

"How come you never ask how are things with me and my dear mate?" I asked, sarcasm dripping thick like pitch. His expression softened from a frown to a small smile.

"Your scent has not changed, so I'm pretty sure I know how are the things between you and your dear mate." He stated with a cunning grin, making my mouth fall agape. He did not say that. So he was thinking to just sniff out whether we had se.x or not? Well, fuck you, Dad. I did not say it out loud of course. If I could, I would. But I can't.

"I'm going for a run." I stated, not being able to continue this conversation. What's with my life lately? I get surprise by surprise that more feels like a jab in the face, gut, and back. Why is life punching me so hard now?

"Great, I'll join you!" Dad chirped with a bright smile now. I so wanted to wipe that smile off. I did not want to know how soon after sniffing each other out his and Mom's scent changed, though that question was on the tip of my tongue after his remark. Unfortunately, I do suspect he would happily tell me something like – "after two hours or so..." Yuk! I've never seen my mom in the flesh, but still, yuk.

We were running, and when we reached the deeper woods he turned to me while running backwards.

"Okay, I challenge you, you can use your wolf's speed. See you at the top of the hill!" He winked at me. We started running real fast, side by side at first. When I got my wolf, only every third or fourth time did Dad allow me to use wolf's speed. He always said that the human body can hold only such capacity of wolf's strength as strong as was the human body and as well-developed were human muscles, joints, etc. Without a strong and muscled human body, the wolf's speed would just tear the muscles or joints by pushing the body for something it was not capable of doing.

I hated that male wolves ran fast, so I pushed the hardest and allowed my frustration to feed my speed and determination. If I could outrun an Alpha wolf, I should be able to outrun Dad. He ain't no Alpha. I pushed more and more as I felt that Dad stayed one, two steps behind, then three and more. I felt butterflies of joy as I kept on pushing, reaching the top with a victorious "Yohooo!!" Yes, at last, all my training had paid off.

As Dad reached the top, he was smiling brightly.

"Dad, you're getting old!" I cheered at my own success.

"I guess I am." He said, still smiling bright and proud.

"Good, good, I'm happy for you and your mate." He said with a small smile, making me frown.

"How is this related with my mate?" I frowned deeply. That douche was even slower than me and we did not train together. Or was he just happy that Alpha will get "strong warrior Luna", mind the sarcasm.

My father didn't answer at once. He leaned against the weathered trunk of an ancient oak, his gaze tracking my restless, feline movements with a predatory, silent intensity. He seemed to be dissecting the chaotic static rolling off my aura, reading the ledger of my confusion as if it were carved into the bark behind him. Finally, he exhaled a long, shuddering breath that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand shifting winters. His expression shifted from pride to a hollow, distant sorrow that chilled me deeper than any threat could.

"I probably should have told you this a long time ago, but your mom said not to. You see, your mom started to have visions about the future just before she died." He paused and hung his head. He had never talked with me about how she died. "It was like her soul was leaving her body already and she tapped into higher consciousness and had more knowledge. She told me things about you and rushed me to leave our pack and run away with you. She encouraged me to train you, so you can protect yourself if any situation would come. She said that if you had stayed in the pack, it would get ugly for you at some point."

I looked at him without blinking. I was processing, but I think I was not. What does that all even mean?

"Why? What exactly could happen to me?" I asked with a frown, expecting the missing piece of the puzzle. He looked at me for a very long time and I held his stare. I was afraid that if I looked away, he would assume that I was not ready for the truth or some bullshit like that.

He looked over his shoulder.

"I bet I'm faster when it comes to running down." And with a fake grin he took off.

"Daaad!" Bloody coward. I chased him down – I was practically flying down but then again – this trick worked against the Alpha boy but my dad was actually the one who taught me it.

The wind whipped past my ears, a frantic, whistling chorus that mirrored the sudden, chaotic static in my brain. My mother – a woman I barely remembered, a ghost story told in fragments – had seen this? She had reached through the veil of death to choreograph the nomadic, paranoid existence I had been forced to lead? The thought was a jagged shard of ice in my chest, colder and more piercing than the biting mountain air. If she had known, if she had truly perceived the threads of a future that looked "ugly" enough to warrant our exile, then every move, every change of homes, sceneries, and faces felt like a calculated move in a game I hadn't realized I was playing. My father's sudden, dismissive sprint down the hill wasn't just a challenge; it was a distraction, a coward's way of avoiding the heavy, suffocating mantle of fragmented truth he had just dropped onto my shoulders. I watched him pull further ahead, a blur of motion against the darkening treeline, and for the first time, I wondered if his constant training wasn't just for my protection, but for his own penance. What was it about me that had terrified her enough to turn our lives into a permanent flight? I pushed myself harder, the ground blurring beneath my feet, but no amount of speed could outrun the cold, encroaching realization that my life had never been my own – it seemed like a pre-written tragedy, and I was only just beginning to read the script.