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Chapter 3

The house became eerily quiet over the next few days. My mother was working non-stop at the clinic, all while organizing our way out of the pack, and trying to keep it secret from everyone around us. And my father had been constantly called away by the Alpha. From what I heard, there had been border breaches from the enemy packs, and it seemed they had been holding meetings and ordering more patrols of the borders.

With the added patrols, I couldn’t rein in my worry that we wouldn’t be able to cross and run, without being noticed. Did mom have a plan for that too? She hadn’t told me anything, which I suppose is a good thing. That way no one would be able to overhear our plan and stop us. I don’t want to think of what would happen to us if we were caught. But would they lock us up? Would they torture us? Would they kill us? 

It didn’t matter, we can’t stay here any longer.

Every night since my father attacked me, I had had awful dreams, nightmares. I was stuck inside them, unable to move as my father came at me, beat me over and over again. Sometimes I was unable to wake myself up and was trapped, trapped watching it happen repeatedly, feeling the pain again and again. I began to lose sleep, became more nervous, jumpy. I wanted to hide, wanted it to all end, but I could never leave my mother, I could never abandon her. 

My mother was the one thing in my life that kept me going, kept me from disappearing forever. She was my rock, my best friend, my only friend. My grandparents from both parents were killed in the last war. I never got to know them. I have no extended family, no cousins, nothing, it's just my father and my mom. My mom has always protected me the best she could, she tried to take the beatings for me, but my father would never hit her. He wouldn’t have risked leaving a mark on her beautiful face, not when she was the best nurse the pack had, not when she was held in such high regard. No, he would save his physical brutality for me.

I never understood why he targeted me, why he hated me so. But I had always suspected that it had something to do with the fact that my mother was not his mate, and I was an unwanted child born of a forced marriage between them. If his mate had never been killed, he would never have agreed to the marriage with my mother, I would never have been a concept, never have been born, and what I suffer through now, well that would never have come to pass.

My mind had been churning through these non-stop thoughts for 4 days. It was like I could no longer control my mind. I had Atonia trying to get me to calm down, trying to get me to listen to her, to stop these thoughts. I couldn’t, it was a non-stop barrage of thoughts of worthlessness, being a burden, being unwanted, being weak. You would think I would be used to all these thoughts by now, but for some reason, they were just growing, getting worse and I couldn’t stop them.

Wouldn’t it be better if I was never born? Would my mother be happy? Would she be safe?

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