Curse of Ferreus

28 - Take That Chance

(Mature content ahead! Read at your own discretion)
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As usual, in the wake of terror, Rowan is quick to take control in that annoyingly gentle way of his. He commands the room with care and attentiveness, and he settles into the role of looking after his people like a king taking his throne. He checks everyone's alright and healing, and then he sets about organising for the mess outside to be cleared up and for some scouts to take back the land Duskland stole before any ambitious rival wolves can pull rank.

Everyone rushes to do as he asks— not out of fear, I understand now, but out of a desire to be worthy of him.

I use their distraction to slip away down the hall and retreat into the room I claimed as my own.

Well, not for much longer.

I scramble through the dresser and the wardrobe until I find a small backpack tucked away, and I toss it onto the bed and descend into a rushed flurry of activity. If I stop and think, I'll change my mind and that cannot happen. It will not. My gaze flits to the clearing and the few werewolves dragging limp bodies into a pile, and I stalk towards the window and rip the curtains closed.

My knives still lie sprawled on the nightstand and the bed. I empty out a drawer, drop them inside, and slam it closed. It doesn't feel like enough. Rowan needs to hide them somewhere far away. Somewhere I cannot find them. They're nothing but a tie to a family and a legacy I do not want, and they lead to nothing but suffering for the people I've grown to care about.

I'm choosing werewolves over a silver-lined safety net, and my mind has never been clearer. I know what I must do to keep them safe from myself.

I'm so preoccupied shoving clothes in the bag that I don't notice when Rowan manifests in the open doorway.

He taps his knuckles against the door frame and my attention snaps towards him; my rushed packing on hold. Guilt claws away at me.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms.

I frown. "What?"

His expression twists with something close to discomfort. "Well, you haven't eaten in a while, so I thought... well, Kay thought they'd make you something— if you want, that is. They're incredible in the kitchen. Honestly, it's an opportunity you can't let pass you by."

He offers a little laugh, but my frown only deepens. My attention flickers to the bag and back, and I wonder if perhaps he's ignoring it on purpose. As though, if he doesn't draw attention to it, the backpack doesn't exist.

I manage a nod. "I could eat something." It'd be good to eat now, so I can spend more time on the road and get as far away from here as I can. I'll make sure my family are following. I'll make sure they won't come back here. I'll make sure Rowan and his pack stay safe.

"Alright." He turns his head a little and calls out, "Kay! It's a go on dinner."

Distantly, I hear a whoop that could only belong to a victorious Beau.

My plan to sneak off while everyone is too busy restoring order is in shambles, so I decide to test the waters. See how long it takes for Rowan to try and stop me. Then again, after my show in the clearing, and now his rivals are dead, he doesn't need me around anymore. He claims to want to help me with my demons, but I'm one of the demons now— a monster without control. I'm doing him a favour by leaving. My excuses are bricks, and I build up a dam to hold back any feeling at all.

"You okay?" he says, his gaze dipping pointedly to my shirt. I follow his close attention and find — a little belatedly — my top all torn and bloodied, courtesy of Elsie's wolf and her claws and her rage. It doesn't hurt, and I expect the scratches lurking beneath are already healing. She didn't bite me — of that, I'm certain — and anything else is simply not life-threatening enough to concern me.