Chapter 6
1494 Words
Quietly sneaking up the side of the house, I stop at my sister's bedroom window—she's asleep in her bed. I tap on the window and see movement; she flicks her lamp on, squinting around the room before looking at the window. Seeing me waving at her, Ava's mouth opens and she's immediately on alert before she rushes over. As soon as she throws her window open, I pass her my bag, which she places on the floor before taking Valarian from me so I can climb through the window.
"Sis!" she cries, hugging me. I inhale her scent, tears flowing down my cheeks, before pulling back to look at her. I am soaked, my hair dripping from the rain, but she doesn't seem to notice. She clutches her mouth before a sob escapes her. “I was hoping you would come back.” She looks down at the baby in awe. "He's beautiful," she chokes out. I gently close the window as she hugs Valarian close, smelling his tiny head.
"Gosh, I've missed you. Dad wouldn't let me look for you; he has me on a tight leash," she says, tears streaking down her cheeks. "Grab some dry clothes, take whatever you want," she whispers while pointing at her dresser.
I rummage through her drawers and find some warm clothes, trying to be quiet so I don't wake my parents down the hall. After putting on some of her pajamas, I have to roll the waistband of the pants to hold them up. My sister watches me before she breaks down again.
"You're so skinny," she sobs, sinking onto her bed and looking at my body. She's right—you can see most of my ribs and my hip bones jut out. I've lost so much weight, this is the smallest I have ever been.
"I'm fine, Ava. I'm okay," I try to reassure her, rummaging through my bag to retrieve a diaper. Thankfully, between my shirt and the blanket that’s wrapped around him, Valarian was able to stay dry.
She just shakes her head, looking at my son as she rocks him. I sit next to her and she moves over on the bed to give me space, leaning back against the wall. Together, we watch my son fall asleep in her arms. Laying my head down on her shoulder, I suddenly break down. Ava tries to soothe me, but I can feel her crying silently beside me. Ava was my best friend. It is almost impossible to beat a sister bond, someone who knows your hardships, knows what it's like to grow up with the parents you have, someone who shares every milestone with you and every heartbreak.
How times have changed.
I've missed having someone to talk to. The only interaction I’ve had were judgmental glares or a few words to show their disgust with me. Nobody asked how I was—nobody cared—and I was stupid enough to believe Beta Marcus would be able to help, stupid enough to think my mate would accept me.
"How is mom?" I ask her, and she shakes her head.
"She's okay; she asked dad for a divorce when he kicked you out. But you know mom, she would never leave him," she tells me, and I nod.
It's unheard of for mates to get divorced. The bond stops mates from being separated. It weakens them; two souls, together, or that's how it's supposed to be.
Not for me, I guess. I'm not looking forward to the rest of my life feeling my mate whenever he's with another woman that isn’t me. I'm not looking forward to raising our son on my own or being alone.
When Valarian stirs, I get up and grab his formula before realizing I have no bottled water. Ava passes my son to me before grabbing his bottle from my hand.
"How much?"
"Four ounces," I tell her, and she nods, opening the door just as the baby cries out loudly. I try to muffle the noise and soothe him by giving him his binky, but he spits it out.
My sister stares at me in panic. Quickly, she tries to close the door before it is thrown open and bangs against the wall, causing Valarian to scream even louder.
My father storms in and his eyes instantly find me. A growl escapes him. I cower away. Ava gets between us, trying to shield me from my enraged father, but he shoves her out of the way before stalking toward me.
"Please, Dad, please!" I beg. He grabs my hair, and I scream. So does the baby in my arms as I try not to drop him. My reflexes want to pull his hands away; instead, I hold my son for dear life, letting my hair tug painfully from my scalp.
"Mom! Mom!" Ava starts screaming frantically before I hear feet slapping on the tiles in the hall.
"Please, Dad! Mom, help me! Mom, please!" I beg her when she rushes in, her mouth open in shock as my father starts dragging me toward the front door by my hair.
My mother grips his arm, pleading with him. "John, please let her go; she has a baby in her arms."
He shoves her aside before dragging me down the hall to the front of the house.
"Dad, please, it's raining outside," Ava begs. My mother is also desperately trying to stop him. My father doesn't care; he growls at them, ignoring them and my cries. He's just opened the front door when my mother shoves him.
"John! She is our daughter! Please," she begs, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face.
"That w***e is not my daughter," he growls, his canines protruding.
"Dad, please, it's freezing outside," Ava begs.
"I said no! I will not have a rogue w***e for a daughter!" he screams, his face turning red in his anger.
"Then take him, please. I will stay outside; just don't put him out. Please, Dad, he's your grandson," I choke out.
He growls at me, his hand shoving me out the door. He's about to shut the door in my face when I try once more.
"Please just look at him, Dad. He'll get sick. Just one night. Then I will leave," I plead.
My mother reaches for Valarian, but my father pushes her behind him.
"John, at least let me take him! Let me take my Grandson!" my mother cries.
He lets me go, looking down at my son before staring at my mother who is sobbing, her hands outstretched for him—those same hands that held mine when I was a little girl, now grasping the air for my son.
"Give him to her, but you stay out. You aren't welcome here," he says before walking off. My mother rushes over to grab Valarian before hugging me briefly.
"I will watch him; I'll stay by the window," she says, and I nod.
"Ava has his baby bag," I tell her. My sister clutches my fingers, nodding. Tears roll down her cheeks as her lips quiver.
"It's okay, Ava. I will be fine," I tell my sister behind her before my dad yells at them, making them jump.
"I'm sorry, I have to," my mother says, closing the door. I nod. The curtain in the living room opens, and the lamp flicks on. I see my sister rush off toward the kitchen, and my mother sits on the lounge with him next to the window, so I can see him.
Leaning over, my mother cracks the window so she can speak to me. "He has your nose," she says, smiling sadly at me, and I smile, sitting on the chair out front on the porch. I shiver; my sister’s flannel pajamas become soaked as the rain blows toward me where I sit, listening and watching my mother through the window feeding my son his bottle.
At least he is warm and dry, I think to myself. Huddled up on the chair, I tuck my knees to my chest, trying to warm myself and shield myself from the cold and the strong gusts of wind.
It doesn’t take long before I start shaking uncontrollably, and my teeth chatter so hard I feel like they'll break. My mother taps on the glass where my head rests—I can see her heartbreak at watching me sit in the cold, stormy weather.
“Shift sweetie. Shift to try to stay warm,” she says, placing her palm on the glass.
“I haven't shifted yet,” I tell her, and she looks at me sadly.
Shifting is a big thing with werewolves; it is a coming of age. Your wolf is meant to represent your future in the pack. I haven’t shifted yet, but when I do, it will not be celebratory like it is for most wolves; it will be purely necessity.
- Writer
