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Chapter Eight- Another Twist

^^^Alpha Samuel^^^

I can't have him, and he can't have me until I'm clean of my past. I have to find out why these scars mutilate me. I need to know if Tristan is really dead and in the ground. I need... I need to go, and I need to leave now.

It's now or never. 

...

Jessamine's P.O.V.

I don't know where to go, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I've read so many books where the girl runs away from her life and starts anew, but the author never actually get's around to the details. She goes from point A to point B and now I'm not completely sure I want to be like one of my fictional friends. After all, the guy always runs after her. 

I'm hoping he isn't running after me. 

I'm really, really hoping, because if I want to go anywhere, I have to go back home and pack a bag. 

My foot presses down on the gas harder, going nearly sixty on a forty mile road. Cars honk aggressively as I glide between them, cruising down the street, not even pausing when a light turns red. I know I'm breaking more than a few laws and it's amazing I don't have cops tailing me. I'll most certainly have speeding tickets to pay off by tomorrow... if they catch me. I grin at the thought, but am caught off guard when my mind whispers, I don't care. 

The statement rings truth throughout my core and I'm stunned for a second as I inch my foot farther up onto the gas. With the ripples of truth comes sadness, thinking of all the people I'm leaving behind. Shutting down my thoughts again before they make me do something stupid, I pivot to what I actually care about .

What I do care about is getting as far away from this place, Tristan, and my mate as I can before they catch up. And I have no doubt they will eventually catch up. 

Why would someone as powerful as Alpha Samuel want me as a mate? He won't, once he sees who I really am.

And the more that I think about him, the more similarities I find between him and Tristan.

They're both cruel, not afraid to take something from someone. Whether it's a life or innocence, it doesn't matter to either of them. They take what they want and leave it behind in shreds. 

I don't want a mate like that. Life will be better without one at all. I don't care that I'm not supposed to reject a mate and it's only done when someone's mate dies and the other is left to live- leaving the one alive to feel half empty until death.

Rejecting a mate is supposedly like the person dying. It's said to leave the person emotionally unstable because of the feeling that he/she isn't whole.

But I know what pain is. I know what it feels like to be empty already, and I can survive it.

My hands grip the wheel as I squeal down my street. Eyes glancing in the rear view mirror every five seconds, like a victim in a horror movie, dampens my palms. Jerking to a stop in front of my house, I debate on leaving the engine idling or taking the keys with me.

Realizing I'm just wasting precious seconds, I shove the door open and race inside, tripping up the stairs in a hurry. Reaching my room, I throw open the closet doors and rummage around for an old, worn out duffel bag. Hidden in the back of my closet beneath a swim suit, I fish it out, pulling random clothes along with it.

I don't pay much attention to what I'm exactly throwing in the bag, I just look at what it is and make a mental note of how many I have tossed in.