Page 20 of Starting a New Life

I’d never experienced snow before. I’d spent my whole life in California. Up until I was eighteen, I’d never left the safety of the coven. I snorted. The safety of the coven. I’d never been safe there. It’d been a cage, gilded by my father, meant to keep me in, keep me hidden forever.

My existence was his greatest shame.

Oh, I’d been allowed to leave after I’d turned eighteen, but I hadn’t been free. Not really. The first time, I’d had my own guards with me, coven members who’d tormented me with snide and cruel remarks. Later, the packs provided security. I’d never been alone, never had a moment to myself. And the only thing that’d kept the wolves at bay was the knowledge that my coven would come for me.

Not because they cared about me, oh no, but because they cared about the money I brought in.

Over the years, they’d become more lenient. I’d been allowed to travel to my destinations on my own, but I still hadn’t been free. There were tracking spells. Lots and lots of them. Tracking my car, tracking me, every move I made displayed on a map in Amanda’s office.

By now, the last remnants of their spells had worn off, but the wolves were still hot on my heels, lying in wait.

I sat down in the snow, the cold, fluffy flakes turning dense and wet, soaking my clothes within seconds. I didn’t care. I welcomed the cold, welcomed the way it chilled my skin, welcomed the way it fucking hurt. Because I was free. Just for a moment, for one last night.

Right now, no one knew where I was. There was no one chastising me, telling me to get inside and warm up or go back to work. There was nothing but nature surrounding me. Trees wherever I looked. Thick, barren underbrush, the branches harsh, speckled with thorns. The sky a dusty grey, thick with snow.

I inhaled the freezing air, tasted the crispness, and listened to the whispers of the wind, telling fantastical tales of upcoming snow.

One last night of freedom.

And tomorrow… tomorrow it’d all be gone.

Danger.

Hurt.

The barrier was screaming, the alarm shrill in my mind, sending out a warning signal, ripping me straight out of a dream, leaving me disoriented.

I blinked, but it didn’t matter if my eyes were open or closed, everything was dark, so I shut them again, focusing on the warning coursing through my body.

Someone had breached the barrier, had intruded into the pack’s territory. The barrier kept telling me it was my territory, but it wasn’t. I was just connected to the barrier. Had nursed it back to health, had spent hours and days and weeks weaving my magic into it, reviving old and long-dead connections to the pack lands. Had nurtured new bonds.

The pack was getting the same warning. The stronger the connection to the barrier, the louder the distress call.

What they didn’t know, couldn’t know without me actually connecting the magic inside them to the barrier, was that it was different today. The intruders weren’t enemies. They were refugees.

My eyes widened in shock as their fear washed through my body, eerily close to my own feelings. The dread. Exhaustion. The fear of stopping while knowing your body couldn’t keep going.

Fuck.

I closed my eyes again, trying to drown out those feelings and to focus on what was going on beneath. Two people, two wolves. Distressed. Injured. Full of fear and pain.

And outside… more lurking. Their intentions darker. Three, no, four of them. There was anger and a cruel satisfaction that made my stomach churn.

They thought they had the upper hand.

I didn’t know why, but they did.

My body tensed when I felt them, their presence inches away from the barrier. I wanted to keep them out; the barrier wanted to keep them out, but it couldn’t. I’d been too weak to nurture it quite enough for that—and now those two wolves on the run would pay the price.

I jumped up, reaching for my cloak, conviction settling in my body.

I needed to help. It might be the last thing I did, but dammit, I would. I would go out there and make sure they were safe. Whatever it took.

No one deserved to be hunted like that.

I wrapped the cloak around me, the thick fabric settling something inside me as I slipped on the hood.

Tonight, I wasn’t the one running. I wasn’t prey.