Stay Novel 13

Evie

I lay awake in my bed, struggling to get up. I have training at six, which is in forty minutes, and I need to get out of bed and prepare for the day. But I can’t. I can’t help but think about my past. I have my past repeating in my head, all the choices I’ve made that’ve got me to this point.

I think of the last time I was in Sierra, the day I left for Orange City. After getting my new identification from Alpha Riley, I stayed for another three months before I got itchy feet and had to travel again. How I regret that decision. Or do I? I’m not sure how I feel, really. I’m here because of that decision I made to leave Sierra. But I wanted to live. I wanted to try new things. And living in a city with skyscrapers, cars, and no trees is what humans do, right?

I had travelled around the country’s north before returning to Sierra and then decided to move to a city. Was it a stupid choice? Instead of living beside a pack, I’m now part of a pack. It’s like I’ve gone full circle, leaving a pack because of my mate, finding a pack and a new mate, and going through the same thing. Well… a similar thing.

I don’t know if I regret leaving Sierra, but it’s definitely one of those sliding-door moments. What would my life have been like if I hadn’t gotten on that bus or left Jia at the bus terminal, crying for me to stay?

I think of that day the most. Jia’s face scrunched up in pain as she waved me goodbye from the street. She offered to drive me to the bus terminal but didn’t want me to go.

When the call for the passengers to board the bus was announced, Jia walked with me, holding my hand and not letting go. She had made me four containers of food to take on the bus, held in a white plastic bag. She would have packed some more in my suitcase if she had had her way. If she had had her way, I would never have left Sierra. I should have let her have her way. I was happy in Sierra. Although I didn’t think so at the time.

“I don’t want you to go!” Jia cried, pulling me into a hug and clinging to my chest. The passengers who boarded the bus and saw us standing there gave us curious looks. Seeing a small Asian woman crying and hugging a tall, skinny white girl is not something you see every day. And Jia was very upset. I felt awful. Sometimes, I still do.

From the moment I arrived in Sierra, Jia pulled me into her world, her life, and her family. My skin might be white and my eyes blue, but to her, I was family. And I love that about Jia. She never once questioned where I came from, always trusting. I could have been a serial killer or a thief. But she took me in when I needed her, and I could never repay her for that.

That is why I’ve made plans to write to her after work. I’ve been writing to her fortnightly since I left for the city over a year ago, but I haven’t written to her since I arrived here. Guilt for not writing to her and the pain I’m feeling from Alaric has been sitting on my chest, making me feel depressed and making me reluctant to get out of bed.

I roll over onto my side and pull my blanket to my chin. My bed is warm and comfortable. My pillow is soft, and it smells clean. I haven’t had this for a very long time. I like my bed. I like that it’s so big I can roll over and then roll over again and not fall off. I like the fact that my sheets smell clean and my pillow is soft. But I don’t want to leave it and get out of bed. I don’t want to see Alaric choose her.

Maybe I’m being silly. Perhaps it’s a one-off thing, and Alaric didn’t choose Dharia over me. I just thought the worst because of my experience with mates. Because that’s how Conner treated me. He picked someone else, and I’m still salty over it.

But because of Conner… I don’t think I could trust a guy again. I haven’t had a boyfriend since the rejection. I’ve been on a few dates, but once they gave me any indication that they wanted more, I ran. I’d always believed I’d rather be single and alone than alone in a relationship. Because that hurts more. Conner was meant to be the relationship for me. But he left me alone and hurt. When he was supposed to care for me. So I’d rather be alone.

But that doesn’t mean Alaric is the same, does it? He’s a different person. Sure, he chose Dharia over me, but that was just a one-off. Right? Right?

Fuck. All this self-loathing and wallowing in the pain is not doing me any good. I’m a fucking Athentree. The daughter of Talon Athentree, Commanding Delta of Swan Moon Pack. People from other packs go to him to get training. And he trained me, albeit (I love that word) secretly, personally! I’m his daughter, and he taught me well!

And I gave that bitch Dharia just as much as she gave me! It’s not my fault I’m better than her. And I am better than her. Let’s face it. So just because he went to her and not me doesn’t mean he doesn’t want me. I’m just thinking of the worst.

I get out of bed, feeling determined. There’s no point wallowing in the past, I know that. Going around and around in circles helps no one. I shower and put on my active wear before heading for training.

I walk up to my new teammates, munching on a breakfast bar.

“Is that all you eating?” Rob asks when he sees me.

“Yup,” I reply, taking the last bite and chewing it quickly.

“What?” I ask when I notice Rob and Ben watching me.

“Evie… are you single?” Ben then asks.

“Fuck you,” I reply, smacking him on the arm.

“What’s up?” Drew asks, walking over to us.

“Nothing. Rob and Ben have dirty minds,” I reply.

“Hey! I said nothing!” Rob protests, his hands in the air.

“No, but you thought it,” I reply. Drew raises an eyebrow as Ben begins to laugh. Fucking wolves.

“Today, we’re not running, okay?” Drew states, turning and joining the other men in our team. I glare at Rob and Ben and follow him.

This morning, we followed Alaric and branched off towards the gymnasium.

“Yes!” the gymnasium!” Wyatt, one of the younger mated Deltas on my team, cheers. Cooper pats his back as I scan the room.

This is a different room than the one I sparred Dharia in. It’s big, the size of a basketball court, with wooden rungs lining the walls. On one side of the room is a climbing wall, and I see a group heading in that direction. The other half of the room is filled with hanging equipment: monkey bars, ropes, gymnast circles, and bars.

“Really?” I say to no one in particular. I’m female—a werewolf, sure, but I’m female. Upper strength isn’t my thing, and this morning’s activity screams upper-body training.

“What’s the matter, smelly one. Don’t think you can cut it?” Rob asks. I roll my eyes at him.

“I’m not a gymnast,” I complain.

“Just try your best,” Drew yells at me from across our side of the room. That’s right. Werewolf hearing. Thoughts to yourself, Evie.

After a gruelling two hours of embarrassing myself in a team of men, my arms were killing me, and my upper body ached.

“Where we going today?” Drew asks as we all head out to the carpark. I learned that the team takes turns having breakfast every Friday at each mated member’s house.

“Mine,” Logan says, heading for his car. I jump in the car with Rob, Ben, Wyatt and Owen, while Drew, Logan, Nolan, Hayden and Micah jump in the other vehicle.

“So, who decides which house we should go to for breakfast?” I ask.

“The girls do. They take turns to host us,” Wyatt explains.

We’re meant to have a thirty-minute breakfast break before we go on patrol, and it takes ten minutes to get there.

“Will we have enough time?” I ask as we walk towards a grey and white two-story panelled house.

“Of course. We’re like the elite team; we get away with more than others,” Ben tells me.

“No, we don’t,” Owen responds, making me grin. I didn’t know any of the roles the Deltas in Gibbous pack held, but at Swan Moon, the trackers were always called on for search parties and border patrolling. Unlike there, here at Silva Luporum, the trackers only patrolled in the morning. If I were in charge, I would separate their shifts so that they patrolled throughout the day. It’s something my Dad did at Swan Moon.

“Hello!” a happy, dark-haired woman greets us as we walk into the unlocked house.

“I’m Chloe,” the woman greets, bringing me into a hug.

“You’re pregnant,” I smile as I hug her.

“Yes! I’m due in two months! It’s so nice to meet you, Evie. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Chloe grins.

“It’s all true,” I tell her, making her laugh.

“Come. The boys are already eating, and they’re pigs. They’ll eat it all if we don’t get there in time,” she tells me.

Chloe leads me to the kitchen, where a table of food is laid out in front of us. There is toast, bacon, apples, egg, yoghurt roast potatoes, kumara (sweet potato), waffles and muffins.

“My goddess, did you do this all yourself?” I ask, stunned.

“I enjoy it. But no, I bought a lot and heated it up,” Chloe admits.

“Love, shh. Don’t spread all our secrets,” Logan says, coming over and kissing her. Chloe blushes, which is so cute. Logan handed her a plate of food, and she thanked him.

“Evie, here,” Rob says, handing me a plate of food. I look at the plate with two slices of toast, scrambled eggs with fried tomatoes and a side of bacon.

“Um, thanks,” I reply, taking it from him. He grins before blushing when the others begin giving him shit for his actions.

“We’re just friends!” I yell out, trying to quell the noise.

“Is that so?” Chloe teases, taking my hand and leading me out of the room towards the sunroom.

“Yes,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat. When a male werewolf gives you food, especially a plate of food, it means they like you, or you’re their mate. I don’t feel anything for Rob except for friendship.

“Don’t worry. Rob is the youngest of four. He has three sisters who made him do everything for them,” Chloe assures me.

“Okay,” I breathe, sitting down next to her.

“I hope you don’t mind sitting here with me. The boys get all rowdy and burp and fart after they’ve had eggs. My nose is sensitive at the moment,” Chloe admits.

“Great, I have to share a car with them on the way to the pack house,” I comment. Chloe starts laughing, and I join her.

“Do you know what you’re having?” I ask. Chloe shakes her head.

“Logie wanted to know, but I didn’t. He suspects a girl, though,” she says. I nod.

“I won’t listen for the heartbeat then.”

“Oh! Yes, I heard you can tell!” Chole gasps.

“How do you know?”

“Luna Ensley’s joined my birthing classes. She confirmed she’s pregnant with twins and was telling everyone you were the one to tell her she was pregnant!” Chloe exclaims.

“Oh, don’t worry. Nurse Mila told us not to spread that knowledge around. You know, mated she-wolves and all that,” Chloe says. I nod. One thing we werewolves are not good at is getting pregnant. That’s why we have our heats. Unfortunately, it’s one of life’s miseries. Joy.

“How far along is our Luna?” I ask.

“Three weeks.”

“And she’s part of your pregnancy group?” I ask. The dates are wide apart. I thought they’d put pregnant women who were due at the same time in the same group.

“Yeah. Our group was the smallest, so she chose to join ours. Isn’t that cool?”

I smile at her enthusiasm.

“Yes, it is,” I agree. We continue eating our breakfast and chatting. Chloe is very easy to get along with, and I find myself really enjoying her company. I learned we’re the same age, but she grew up in Little Rock Pack, moving here when she met her mate at the Winter Solstice Ball.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” Chloe asks. I shrug my shoulders. This is my second week here, but besides Isabella, possibly Lana and now Chloe, my group of friends is small.

“Isabella invited me to go to some bar with her and Erin tonight,” I admit.

“Oh! Howling Moon! Yes, they have karaoke on Friday nights!” Chloe exclaims.

“That sounds fun,” I sigh. Chloe smiles.

“Erin loves to sing. Can you sing?”

“Yeah,” I admit. I’m classically trained, meaning I’ve done formal training in singing. Music lessons basically encompassed my childhood.

I was sad when I had to leave Chole to return to work, but I promised to visit over the weekend. Owen’s car reeked of sulphur on the way back to the packhouse, with the boys competing against each other to produce the loudest-sounding fart. I shook my head and tried to switch my olfaction off, so I didn’t have to smell them.

Like yesterday, we were separated into small groups to walk the pack’s territory, and I was put with Rob and Ben again. When we returned to the pack house, I went to my room, showered, and changed because I felt yucky after the morning workout and the border patrol.

I had arranged to meet Isabella for lunch, so I waited for her outside the pack’s daycare. People walked past and smiled at me, and I’d nod and smile back. How the pack members here treat me still surprises me, especially after my rude introduction. I know someone is coming to interview me, but I haven’t been told when. It’s been over a week. I mull over that. I’ll need to speak with Alpha Jed to see what’s happening. I’m not just going to let it slide.

“Hmmm, you must be thinking about something serious,” Isabella muses, breaking me out of my reverie.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Isabella asks. I smile and shrug.

“Just thinking about what it was like when I first arrived at this pack,” I admit.

“Oh. Was it bad?”

“It was… untraditional,” I tell her. I don’t know if the pack has been told about what they did to me when I arrived. What would they think if they knew they stuck a lone wolf in a cell and fed her dog food for a few days? If I were a member of this pack, I would find it unbelievable and feel ashamed. If I was a member of this pack. I am a member of this pack. Now. Still, I’m not sure I’d want everyone to know what I was put through.

Unfortunately, Erin joined us for lunch, which meant we went to get her food and ours after she arrived at our table.

“Are you sure her workmates don’t know she orders her lunch from them every day?” I ask as we wait for her coffee to be made. Or is she just that up herself that she doesn’t care? I’m not ready to say it yet, in case I lose Isabella as a friend. I don’t like how Erin treats her, but I’m not that buddy-buddy enough with Isabella to step in.

We order our food and bring it back to the table, only to listen to Erin’s boring tale about her life. I watch Isabella trying hard to join the conversation, only to be cut off by Erin, and the narrative turns back to her. I try hard to listen in and feign interest.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I say as Erin talks about how she chipped a nail cleaning the oven her mother made her clean and how she paid for gel nails, which were probably cheap versions because of how easily they chipped. She then made some other racist comments about the nail technicians because they were human. And did you get that without stopping for a breath? Because yeah, that’s what it’s like listening to her talk—an endless vomit of words without pause.

As I walk through the food court (which feels so pretentious to me—why can’t they have an ordinary pack dining area, like other packs? Why a food court?), a familiar scent of amber and incense reaches my nose. I see Alaric sitting at a table with Leyton, another male wolf I don’t know, and Dharia.

My heart drops when I see them, and it hurts when I notice Alaric is sitting next to Dharia, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s frustration, maybe it’s anger, but it makes my feet stop and head in their direction. As I walk, Alaric turns to look at me, a smile on his face.

“Hi Evie,” Leyton welcomes, breaking my focus on Alaric.

“Hi. Leyton,” I reply, trying hard not to sound pissed.

“How is life on the outside?” he jokes with a smile.

“Much better than the inside,” I reply, my anger slowly dissipating.

“Outside? What are they talking about?” Dharia asks. I look at her and notice Alaric now has his arm to himself.

“Nothing,” Leyton, Alaric, and I reply in unison. Dharia slumps at this response, obviously not impressed.

“Um, hey. Alaric? Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask.

“Sure,” Alaric smiles, not noticing the flash of anger wash over Dharia’s face. I walk towards a quieter area of the food court.

I know that if the others around me wanted to listen, they could, being werewolves. I know I could converse with him through our link, but I was taught that mind links are to be used only when shifted or sparingly. There’s a fairy tale about it, actually- about a werewolf pack where everyone went mute because they relied too heavily on their links to communicate.

“Alaric, do you still want to do this mate thing with me?” I ask him. It’s a hard ask, but I have to.

“Of course! Why, you don’t?” Alaric answers, surprising me.

“Then why are you always with her?” I angrily reply.

“With who?”

“Dharia,” I reply, feeling partly stupid for the tone of my voice but also angry about the fact that he seems to spend more time with her than with me.

“Evie, I’m not with her. I want you. I’m your mate; she’s just a friend,” Alaric responds, stepping towards me.

“Then why are you always with her?” I plead. I don’t like it. I hate it. I feel like he’s choosing her over me, and it hurts.

“Evie, she’s just a friend. That’s all she’s ever going to be to me. I’ve known her a really long time, that’s all.”

“But I don’t like it…”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it because whether you like it or not, she’s part of my life,” Alaric says.

I look down at my feet, trying hard to stem the tears that threaten to fall.

“Hey, it’s okay. You have nothing to worry about,” Alaric says, pulling me into his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses my head. His touch instantly comforts me, and his scent calms me.

“But…” I protest. I don’t want him to be friends with her. Not when she looked at me like when I first met them. Not when I knew he had just had sex with her before we met.

“It’s okay, we’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about. I promise,” Alaric tells me.

“Are you sure?” I whimper.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” I say meekly. I wrap my arms around him, trying to reap as much comfort as I can from him. Having him hold me makes me feel better. We stand there, holding each other, and it just feels right.

“I was actually heading for the bathroom,” I admit after a moment. Alaric laughs.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to sit with my friends, okay?” he asks, stepping away to check if I’m okay. I nod. Alaric smiles and kisses me on my forehead.

“I’ll see you later. We’ll get together on the weekend, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, feeling happy that maybe we’re beginning to make some progress in our relationship.

I watch Alaric walk back over to his friends, noticing that this time, he chooses to sit next to Leyton instead of Dharia, which makes me happy.

I begin my training session with renewed vigour. Although I am not one-hundred percent happy with Alaric’s response, as I would like him to stop socialising with Dharia, the talk we did have has made me feel better. And watching him sit back down next to Leyton gives me hope. It’s a good sign, don’t you think? I think it means he subconsciously chooses me, and that’s a win in my book.

After my win against Dharia with the staff, many Deltas approached me and asked me to help them train. I wanted to tell them no, but after the third person asked, I gave in and said I would.

This is the second day that I’ve become an unofficial trainer at this pack. Although I wasn’t teaching music, it felt good.

I walk into the weapons room and find a wooden staff, checking the weight before being satisfied with my choice. Fighting with a staff is not just about combat but also about handling the weapon. Arrogant me knows that I’ll have no trouble drawing people towards me to practice and spar.

I place my staff on the ground and begin with some arm and upper body stretches. Even though I’ve done lots of running and walking today, I still need to condition my muscles.

First, I practice spinning the staff from its middle, using both my hands centred in front of me to rotate it in a circle. I adjust the speed, going fast, slow, and fast again. I then hold the staff in one hand, rotating it for several seconds before centring it in my hand and tossing it to my next hand, repeating the process. Okay, I’m showing off, but whatever.

A group of Deltas come up to me and watch, cheering as I go. I grin when I hear them exclaim at my speed.

Next, I move the staff horizontally to my left, flicking it with one hand behind my back and catching it. Exclaims of surprise and ‘I want to learn that’ come from people’s mouths. I practice throwing the staff in the air, catching it, and throwing it and catching it again. When I miss, I practice again until I get it right.

“How did you do that?” Jana asks when I do it twice in a row- the first time really fast and the next time slow.

“Whatever. She’s just a show pony,” Dharia states, approaching us. I shrug and continue what I’m doing. I don’t care if I’m a ‘show pony,’ as she put it. I’m used to being watched and criticised for my talents, so her comments roll off me like water off a duck’s back.

“Can you do any other tricks?” A guy asks.

“Like what?” I ask.

“I dunno. Throw it with your foot or something,” he states, causing his friends to roar with laughter. I smile.

“What about this?” I ask.

I spin the staff quickly with my right hand and throw it in the air, then spin three-sixty degrees on my feet and catch it in my left hand. Quickly, I exchange the staff from my left to my right hand while spinning, and then I throw it in the air again. Instead of catching it in the air, this time, I let it bounce off my knee, where it ricochets back into the air. As the staff begins to fall, I turn one-eighty degrees and catch it with my hand between my legs.

Everyone cheers and claps, and I turn around and look at them with a smile.

“Like Dharia said, it’s party tricks. But the more you practice, the better you get,” I say.

“Can you teach us?” someone asks.

“Sure,” I grin.

I then explain what to do in small steps before getting them to practice each. I thoroughly enjoyed teaching these skills to those who chose to learn. Some of them had managed to throw their staff in the air and catch it successfully, and some had given up on that part and tried skipping to bouncing their staff into the air off their knees. Everyone, including myself (but not from my own attempts), had a staff fall on them more than once. We all finished the day with bruises on parts of our bodies, but we were happy.

“Can we practice again next week?” Dallas, a Delta around my age, asks.

“If you want,” I smile in response. He smiles back at me and gives me a look.

“Oh, I want,” he winks. I laugh at his blatant flirting and shake my head.

“You’re shameless,” I reply.