Chapter Four - Six weeks After Esme's Disappearance
1047 Words
I paced up and down in the small wood we had found. We had already been there too long. Situated on the edge of the Lincolnshire border, the woods were too close to a lot of main roads and it made me nervous. Everything made me nervous. I hadn't been able to run for weeks, not properly, and it did nothing to help the tension building up inside. With each day that passed, I got more worried about Esme. Jackson wasn't equipped to deal with what they were both facing.
Being the younger child, he had been sheltered from a lot of the aspects of life at the camp. I had no such luck. My dad had been training me to be an alpha for my entire life. Forcing me to get to know every element that made the camp run smoothly. Unfortunately, that included spending time with the medics. Knowing what they needed to do their job and mainly to gain respect for the part they played in keeping us all safe.
During my time helping out with them, I saw a couple of pregnancies. One of them stayed with me. It was the most awful thing I had ever seen. I had been helpless, and the medics hadn't been much better off. I knew from what I had learned during my time there that Esme could be going into labour at any time. Officially, it should take around three months, but there were other factors to consider. She wasn't a werewolf. Her body was weaker and wouldn't be able to cope with the strain for as long.
The woman I had met during my time with the medics had only managed to carry for eight weeks. Even she hadn't been strong enough to cope with the pregnancy. I had stood there as little more than a child and watched as they tried to save her. They failed. She died in agony and the pup was lost, too.
I was terrified that I was going to be too late, that it was already too late. Not that I knew what I could do to prevent it, either. If Jackson had known the real danger she was in, he never would have let her go. I'd had plenty of time to think about his involvement. Jackson was loyal, the most loyal person I knew. I was sure he would only have gone with her if he thought he had no other choice. For him to have chosen between the two of us, he must have thought her need was greater. I had come to the conclusion that he knew he couldn't stop her from leaving. That he went with her to keep her safe.
The trouble was, he didn't really know what sort of danger she was in. I was sure he would know it could be problematic, but I doubted that he knew it was her life on the line.
That was all without factoring the risk she would be facing if there was more than one pup. Multiple pregnancies were much more common in werewolves than they were in humans. Not to mention that me and Jackson were multiples, which the medic I spoke to said increased the chance even more. The last thing I did before I left the camp was to check in with the medic and gather as much information as I could.
When I worked with them, Leanna tried to keep me sheltered from a lot of the more gruesome elements. She didn't agree with my dad forcing me to see such things at such a young age. She had offered to come along, but the camp only had two medics and Leanna was the only one who dealt with births. We had other pregnancies in the camp and I couldn't put them at risk like that, not even for Esme. The camp had to come first, above all else.
I remembered the image of that lifeless pup. The image had been there my whole life, but since finding out about Esme, it had been plaguing my thoughts every day. If she had been at the camp, she would have been on forced bedrest to try to stop labour from coming too early, but I doubted Jackson had managed to convince her to rest much at all.
It had become clear that they had found a way of masking her from me and Marcus. I was so angry with Jackson for doing it. He might have had good intentions, he must have, but I would never forgive him for putting her in danger. Jackson had always been good inside and out. If he had seen half of what I had seen, or received the same training I had, he wouldn't have any good left inside him. He would be empty inside, just like me.
I remembered once when I was about nine and my dad had taken me to a remote area of the woods. He stabbed me in the side and left me there. Telling me that I wasn't fit to be an alpha if I couldn't get back to camp alive. I had waited until he had left to lie down and cry for my mother. Of course she couldn't come to me. Holding my hand to the red fluid leaking from my side and even at that young age, wondering if I was better off letting myself slip away. Even death wasn't enough to free me from my father's expectations.
I had dragged myself up and struggled alone. Slumped over like an old man. When I arrived back at the camp after hours of suffering, I had looked forward to the reward of my father's respect, but I didn't get it. I never managed to get his respect, no matter how hard I tried. Understanding why he thought he needed to do it, but each time he trained me through brutality, it stole a piece of me. I couldn't help but think if my mother had lived, things would have been different.
Over and over I told myself the same things.
I would find her.
I would save her and the baby.
I would never be the same man my father was.
I would find a better way.
- Writer
