His Broken Mate

Chapter 8

Pic is of Catherine

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Elaina's POV

I zip up my duffel bag, yank it off the counter, and rush to the front door. Thankfully no one stops me, but when I get outside I have to look around for a second. Hmm, there doesn't seem to be a lot of people out here. Glancing around nervously, I head straight into the dense woods that surround the pack house and follow the sound of water. I dodge around trees and walk quickly through tall grass, the sound of rushing water growing louder and louder.

"Elizabeth, can I shift?" I mentally ask, and she sighs.

"I'm sorry, Elaina, I'm not strong enough. I'm recovering as soon as I can, but right now I'm trying to heal your wounds as well as mine," she replies.

"It's okay. Thank you." Hopefully I'll be able to shift soon, or I won't make it very far before Xavier discovers my absence. At the thought of Xavier frantically searching for me, howling in pain, it makes me feel . . . weird. Bad. I know he's my mate, technically, but . . . I don't think anyone will ever really love me, so why should I get all upset over it?

I walk faster and faster until I finally get to a stream. I toss my bag to the other side, and dive in. The water will help mask my scent. I swim to the other side, grab my bag, and keep walking, at a faster pace. I feel jittery as my eyes dart around. I feel like at any moment, someone's just going to pop out at me. I've never actually been alone before. Even at my old pack, I had the other prisoners to keep me company.

Being alone is so liberating, yet frightening at the same time. I finally feel like I'm close to freedom, but I have no idea what to do with it. I mean, all my life I've known torment and work. Nothing else. I've barely been anywhere, and I don't know how I'm going to function in such a new environment. Maybe I'll get a job and find my own quiet little place to live.

At the same time though, what job could I possibly do well? To say I have no people skills would be a serious understatement. I can barely look someone in the eye without flinching and curling up into a ball. Hmm . . . maybe I could be a maid or something? I mean, I can clean and cook pretty well. I've obviously had a lot of practice.

After a long time of me running, with nothing but the sound of my panting as a companion, I hear a heart-breaking howl coming presumably from Xavier. Well, I guess it's dinnertime. I slow down, gasping for breath, and wishing I got to train while I was with my old pack. It probably would've helped in a situation like this, but there's no changing history. I slump down against a tree and wonder how far I've run. I open up my bag, take a few gulps of water, and pull out a granola bar. I'm full after eating a bit more than half of it, so I just put it back in my bag.

I sit there for maybe ten minutes, just thinking. What if I stayed? What will happen if Xavier catches me? What if another pack finds me? I sigh and hug my knees to my chest as What ifs run wild through my mind. What if this happens, what if that happens? But . . . what if I actually get away?

What if I can finally have a new life, a better life, that doesn't have anything to do with this one? I could get a good job and be able to take care of myself! Or maybe I could find a new pack that doesn't know anything about me, and finally let out my wolf. I could make one or two actual friends, and feel like I belong for once. I could dye my hair, get new clothes, maybe even get over all the self-hate I've developed and feel good about myself. I smile as hope swells in my chest. It feels foreign to me, but it's promising. I could be normal for once. Imagine that.

My limbs feel heavy when I stand back up and continue jogging. Man, I'm out of shape. In fact, the only reason I can really walk is because I'm a werewolf. If I were human, I would probably be in the hospital, recovering from being malnourished and physically exhausted.