The train slows as I anticipatingly tap my feet against the floor. After almost two days of traveling, I'm close to my destination. The countryside station is empty, no voices, no sound beyond the rain tapping lightly against the metal roof overhead. I step out with my single bag slung over my shoulder and boots covered in dirt from the last transfer. She’s out here somewhere. Hopefully. I didn't ask my men to follow me. As much as Derek had commanded his men to help me all these weeks, I can't bring them close to anywhere Sofia is. I rent a car from a small garage near the station. It’s old and almost rusty, but it starts. That’s all I need. I check the name on the map again, one of those 'blink and you miss it' villages, surrounded by endless green. No signal. No GPS. With a paper map and hope that I'm not wrong, I begin driving. Shortly after, the rain picks up. What begins as a drizzle grows into a heavy pitter-patter, blurring the windshield and even wipers don't help much
CARLOS The four walls of this very study room I once had Sofia against me, have become the very thing keeping me from insanity for now. The dim light from the lamp cascading a soft glow on the desk is the only source of light amidst the darkness that's clawing up the room and my hopes. It's been over two weeks. I have tried my best, searching for her nonstop to the point I fainted from exhaustion, but nothing led me to her. I sit there, elbows resting on the desk, hands tangled in my hair. Defeat is threatening to crush me down with bitter reality as the silence in the room mocks my failed attempts. I didn't sleep properly once. I couldn't, not knowing if she even made it alive after taking the silver wound. I desperately hope that she did, but in the past two weeks, there hasn't been a single rumor about her wolf, which is alarming. What if she didn't make it? I release a shaky breath and sit back, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands until my vision blurs and my eyes i
After long hours of driving, I finally stop by the two-storey building. The board flickers with neon lights, it reads Musing Motel. The one Sofia told me about. I kill the engine, letting the quiet wrap around me for a moment as my fingers tighten instinctively around the steering wheel. Only if I had come here two nights ago. I push open the car door and step out under the dry heat of the afternoon that presses thickly against my back. I walk up to the front porch and pull the glass door open. The smell of cigarettes and some weird fragrance fills my nostrils as I step inside and take a brief look at the small lobby. A man is sitting behind the receptionist's desk, scrolling through his phone. As I approach the desk, he looks up, expression dull and half interested. "Can I help you?" He asks, flicking his gaze back to his phone as a video of a dancing woman plays on it. "I'm looking for someone who stayed here two nights ago," I state, voice even but firm. The guy raises a bro
CARLOS A dull ache in the back of my head makes me groan softly. I move around, opening my eyes to find myself in bed. Not mine, but familiar. The memories come back to me in fragments. The phone call from Sofia. Me going to leave the Pack. Confiding Dad and then… My breath hitches in realisation. He had drugged me to stop me from leaving. The betrayal rushes an intense surge of rage through me. I throw the blanket off me and sit upright, but the throb in my head forces me to stop and inhale a deep breath to clear my vision better. “Ughh, I don't have time for this,” I groan, forcing my limbs to move. Pain is the least of my worries now. I don't know how long I was out. Sofia could be hurt, hunted or worse… I shake my head, shoving down the negative thoughts as I slip out of the room, storming down the corridor and ignoring all the curious eyes of guards who look almost on high alert. I stop by one, “Where's Marcel?” I demand harshly. “In the gymnasium,” He answers without m
Sofia: The first thing I register is the weight, crushing me down bone deeply like I'm pressed between something. I can't breathe properly or move an inch, even when my eyelashes feel like they need permission to open. It's too quiet here. Too calm with no strong fragrance, instead something earthy. Just freshness. I force my eyes open, eyelashes brushing against the soft pillow as I take in my surroundings. Wood paneled ceiling, slanted roof with two windows, golden light is filtering through them, cascading softly to my left, illuminating floating dust motes as I find myself lying flat on my stomach on a mattress. I try to lift my head. A sharp bolt of pain rushes down my spine, tearing a gasp from me which comes out more like a whimper. My entire back burns, raw and aching, but centred on one agonizing point just below my shoulder blades. The blanket over me feels too heavy, like my bones are too frail to even carry their weight. My mind flashes with everything that happened.
Sofia Vez The motel room smells like whiskey and fruit-like fragrance, a little too strong, that stirs discomfort low in my guts. The air is thick, suffocating even as I lie still in the bed, very aware of my mother's restless figure tossing and turning beside me. She is asleep yet very much fighting the demons. The ceiling fan is spinning so slowly, drawing the creaking sound I can't seem to ignore. I've been lying too still in the bed, waiting for hours to make sure both my parents are fully asleep. I quietly get up, glance at my father, who has made himself comfortable on the single couch in the corner. The small sound of his snores wafts in the room, and I take it as a cue to slip out of the bed and put on my shoes. They don't know I'm slipping out. They forbade me to go out, talk to Carlos or anyone, but I had called him from the phone at the reception earlier when I had the chance. I was worried about his reaction, but all he asked was if I was hurt. He cares for me deeply,