Chapter 2

Serelis

They soon arrive in a pack. The moment we step through the gates, my son is taken from me.

“You will get him after the Alpha decides where you will be,” one of the guards mutters, flat, like he’s said it a hundred times.

I want to scream. I want to grab him back and not let go, but my arms are tired from holding him all night and there are too many of them. The cloth they untie him from slips out of my hands and they walk away. I hear his cry grow small and vanish. My hands fall to my sides and the cold air hits where his warmth used to be. I feel empty in a way that makes my knees go soft.

They push me forward into a long line. There are others; women, children, a few men, heads down, shoulders rounded like they’ve already given up. I drop my eyes too. If I look up I’m likely to get noticed. If I’m noticed, they might decide to take me away from whatever is left of me.

Footsteps come, slow and measured, heavy enough to feel in my bones. They get closer and with each thud my heart speeds. Somewhere up front, a woman wails. Another screams like she’s being torn apart. A guard barks at them to shut up and then a slap cracks the air. My stomach knots.

The line inches forward. Sweat and fear stick to us. Cries from ahead get louder..begging, pleading, and I don’t dare lift my head. I hear someone say “discard them” like it’s nothing, then the drag of bodies. My insides tie in knots. What will they decide for me?

If I die here, my son will suffer. That thought hits like a knife and I sway. I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t cry. Crying won’t help. I just wish to blend in, to be invisible.

I force myself to slow my breathing, count to ten, then count again. I press my palms flat against my thighs and force my shoulders down because I know movement draws eyes. I tuck my chin a little more so the dirt on my face is less visible. I smooth the edge of my sleeve with one thumb, a small useless motion that at least keeps my hands busy.

 A woman ahead of me gets hauled out of line and shoved aside; they don’t even check her hands for anything, they just toss her like garbage because she’s too thin, too noisy. A child is pulled away and handed over like a package. I try to memorize the faces of those who move past me, not for them but so I can say I saw them if anyone asks. Names matter in a different way now; if someone calls your name, you’re noticed. If you’re noticed, you’re counted.

The woman beside me won’t stop praying; her lips move fast and wet, and I listen to the sound more than the words. It’s the sound of someone refusing to let go. I mouth a quick, private prayer of my own even though I don’t know which gods to ask. I tell myself small things: keep your head down, make yourself ordinary, look like someone who has nothing. Ordinary people slide by easier. I rehearse a face that looks tired enough to be overlooked.

Footsteps keep coming, closer, inspecting. Every second stretches while we tremble in fear of what our fates will become. The woman beside me wouldn't stop muttering prayers, "Please save my child moon goddess, dear goddess keep him away from evil" she was soaked in tears.

Right, I should emulate her and also pray for my son, that I shouldn't be noticed by these monsters and be reunited with my child. But then, is the prayer even necessary? We prayed everyday to be kept safe from these predators, men who slaughtered their kind with no remorse and treated them like cattle.

Where was the goddess when my pack sold off their women, when I scraped through the woods all these years. Tears burn my eyes, I blink to let them fall as my head is bowed.

Then, out of nowhere, something hits me. A scent.

It slides into my nose, sharp and strong, and floods through me before I can do anything. My knees nearly give. My wolf, the one who’s been quiet for years whimpers inside me. A low sound pushes in my head. Mate.

I gasp, tiny, like a hiccup. My eyes sting. Gold flashes across them and I squeeze them shut. No. Not here. Not now.

I tuck my chin into my chest as the steps get nearer. My whole body shakes. The smell gets stronger, sweet and dangerous. My wolf claws and pushes and whispers that word until it rings in my ears. Mate. Mate. Mate.

A growl rolls above me, deep and low, ripping through the noise.

“Mate.”

The word rips from him, like it’s been torn out. My heart stops.

My head snaps up before I can stop it and my eyes lock on his. The world tilts. It’s him.

 The face I tried to bury, the jaw that haunts me. The same dark eyes that stared at me blurred with drink two years ago when I had been reckless. The young Alpha who walked into that rogue camp like he owned it, the man whose touch I remember between whiskey and sweat. The man who left at dawn with just his wallet and nothing else. The father of my son.

For a second I can’t breathe. My chest clamps, my throat closes. Heat floods through me...shame, anger, horror tangled up. His eyes narrow on me, sharp and unblinking, like he can’t believe it either.

All around, the line blurs. The guards, the crying, they disappear. All I hear is blood in my ears and his scent filling the air.

Memories slam into me. His hand on my waist that night, his lips tasting like smoke and cheap liquor. I thought it was a mistake I could leave behind. I thought I buried it. But here he is.

Chains rattle nearby and it pulls me back to the moment. My lips tremble. I want to scream at him, tell him what he did, what he left me with. But no words come. My body freezes, split between collapsing and tearing him apart.

He reaches out, just a bit, like he’s going to touch my shoulder. My skin crawls. I step back as much as I can without making a scene. My knees wobble. He doesn’t take his hand away. Instead, he leans down and breathes out a word I thought I’d never have to hear from him.

“Mate.”

It’s like having the air knocked out of me. I don’t know whether to cry or be sick. How can I be mate to the man who abandoned me? How can fate, or whatever this is, hand me back to the same man and expect anything to be the same?

My wolf whimpers and I smell him again, smoke, iron, something like pine and my stomach drops. I feel trapped.

His growl deepens and spreads across the clearing. People shift, guards tighten up. He doesn’t seem to care. His stare burns into mine, claiming.

I can’t look away.

No, no, no. This is the nightmare I never planned for. The mate I begged not to meet. The Alpha who paid rogues to kill and celebrated while I washed my sorrows away in his arms. The man who walked out and left me to carry everything.

The father of my son.

And now he stands in front of me and with one word claims me.

 Mate.

I feel sick. My stomach flips, my knees wobble, and I bite down hard on my lip just to stay standing. My head screams for sense but I can’t find it. I stand there, trembling, staring at the worst thing I can imagine, and realize there’s no escaping it.