That alone makes something twist in my chest again, since I’m not used to how typical it seems, and it isn’t what I expected from him. From any of them. What’s even stranger is how many of them are from the same place I came from, yet they look perfectly at ease here. This has become their normal.
A few heads turn as I pass, and I feel that same wariness as before. Now, it seems more focused, like they know what I am to their Alpha. Given how fast these things get around, I imagine they do, and I don’t know how they feel about an outsider being connected to him.
I catch one of them watching me from across the street, then another, and none of them are subtle. They aren’t exactly friendly or unfriendly, but just watching me like they need to make sure I’m not some kind of plant.
I scoff under my breath and keep going, silently urging myself to relax. There’s no point in letting these people get to me.
As the irritation simmering under my skin, I pick up the pace and try to focus on anything else. This is exactly what I expected, and exactly what I knew would happen, yet it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.
I need space and some time away from the looks, the tension, and everything else.
Before long, the river comes into view, cutting through the edge of town and spilling into the surrounding woods. Thankfully, it’s quieter here and far less crowded.
While the sound of water drowns out everything else, it almost starts to feel like back home in a sense. Even if I don’t have the best memories there, those surroundings followed me for most of my life, and it’s hard to forget the comfort I used to gain from being out in the woods.
Stepping closer to the running water, I exhale slowly and crouch near the edge, letting my fingers skim the surface. It’s cold and grounding, and for a long moment, I just sit there.
I focus on my breathing and try to untangle the mess in my head. Trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing, why I’m here, and why I can’t get distracted by everything else.
Eventually, a soft sound breaks through the quiet, and I freeze instinctively. I lock in on the movement behind me, turning sharply to not leave myself unguarded, and my stomach drops.
Sera stands a few feet away, her posture immediately going rigid the second our eyes meet. Wrapped up against her chest in a light green fabric is the same bundle as before.
As my gaze flicks down, I see the small head of light-colored hair poking out, and given how quiet the child is, I can only guess it’s just a few months. Those tiny fingers curl into thefabric of her shirt, and something squeezes unexpectedly in my chest.
“Fern,” Sera says flatly, like she already knows where my head is at. “Her name’s Fern.”
I blink back at her, not expecting her to say anything to me, and I clear my throat. “It’s a nice name.”
Sera nods and shifts slightly, instinctively adjusting the fabric to bring the child closer in a protective way. Remembering that I’m technically enemy number one right now, I feel the tension snap back into place instantly.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” she says, sounding less hostile than the last time I saw her, but not exactly warm.
I huff a quiet breath. “Neither were you.”
“All the reason to leave, then.”
I push myself up slowly and keep my movements deliberate to seem as non-threatening as I can, even if every instinct in her body is telling her otherwise. A gentle breath escapes me before the words do. “I’m not here to cause problems.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I mean it.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, scrutinizing me. “That doesn’t change what you’ve already done.”
No, it certainly doesn’t.
I glance at Fern again. She’s quiet, and the only proof that she’s awake while wrapped up is the gentle way she touches her mother with curious fingers. She’s too young to understand anything about this, and to know what I am or what I’ve done. There’s something oddly comforting and reassuring about that.
I look away and try to set those thoughts aside. “This isn’t about that.”
“It’s always about that,” Sera replies.
Everything about this feels uncomfortable and like the exact opposite of what I want to be doing. I could walk away and be done with it. Maybe I should, but something keeps me there. Something that doesn’t let me just ignore it, regardless of how much simpler that would be.
“I’m sorry.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and I watch as Sera stills completely, like she didn’t expect that, and doesn’t know what to do with it.
