44. Zena

I cannot wait to get out of this dusty, blood-stained patch of dirt. Not a single cabin remains standing. Just black, charred skeletons. While Briss first slept I held his hand and stared at them. Trying to make sense in my own mind of just what my life should become now. I didn’t want to look too closely at the bodies.

Padgett had described me as a river, always heading towards what I want. But this place was never what I wanted. Unlike Jane, it never felt like home. It taught me so much, how to use my gift but then the image of sweet little Phoebe Kharkov comes into my head.

What if a thoughtful, gentle girl like her ended up in this lonely wasteland? Too many women have had their gift manipulated and forced into use. Look at Luna Genevieve and Helena. Mated to Alpha’s yet blighted with glimpses of pain and disaster, distorting their potential joy.

What if the Moon Goddess and her plans should just be left the fuck alone?

Then they could be free. I could be free.

Ideas rattle a