Chapter 3 - Yvonne #2
As I shift into human form just outside the small building that houses the village’s school-aged kids during the day, I know I have to leave before the pack finds out about what happened to Sam and his friend.
I take a deep breath for composure, furtively tucking my hair behind my ears and wiping the sweat from my brow before entering the childcare center.
I’m late, but it’s not by choice. At least I made it to pick my son up.
Lord knows what would have happened at the river if it weren’t for Dawson’s interference and timely heroic act.
Only a flicker of relief is evident as I step inside and knock on the door.
Even though he saved me, allowing me to come back to retrieve my son, he’s made it impossible for me to stick around in Sunrise.
Soon, the other pack members will find out about Sam and Darius's deaths, and I'll be subjected to the punishment that may come.
I have to save myself and my son, just as I did many years ago before I gave birth to him. There’s no time to be shocked or dazed about Dawson's sudden appearance.
He can't know that I had his child. It's the reason I fled Girdwood in the first place, not wanting my child to be subjected to the harsh rejection I'd faced amongst the Snehvolk Pack. Or the rejection of his father.
“Mama!” Radiant silver eyes light up the moment I open the door. He scampers toward me with flailing arms, rushing into my open arms with relief that I'd finally come.
“Gio…” I breathe, reflecting his relief as I nuzzle my face into the top of his head, burying my senses for a brief moment as I gather my thoughts while my son reinforces my determination to keep us both protected.
The deep intuition I discovered when I conceived Gio is what sets my pulse alight now. Though I can't explain it, I'd been able to have visions of sorts that warn me about dangers to come. I know we're not safe in Sunrise anymore; I can feel it.
That's why I don't waste too much time chatting with Gio's caretaker, Melissa.
Though she's been kind enough to watch him during the day when I work at the pack hall cooking, she's hardly an ally.
Like the others, she sees me as the lowest-ranking omega in this pack—a single mother who deserves the harsh conditions I'm subjected to.
Once we're out of the childcare center, I set Gio on his feet, press a kiss to the top of his head, and grab his tiny hand to lead him back to our cabin on the outskirts of the village. My frantic pulse races as we hurry through the night, but of course, my curious five-year-old doesn’t overlook anything.
“Mama!” he squeals, tugging my arm and forcing me to stop just outside the cabin.
I glance all around us with a fearful gulp, just to make sure we're not being followed. But when I look down at my son, a wave of regret washes over me, forcing me to my knees in front of him as I cradle his round, pouty face.
“Oh, baby!” I cry remorsefully, pulling Gio into a soothing embrace. “I'm so sorry….”
Gio sniffs as he hugs his tiny arms around my neck. “What's wrong, Mama?”
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, remembering that my little boy is more than just observant—he has the unique ability to pick up on my emotions.
I can't hide anything from him, and while I've done my best to steer clear of fear and nervousness to ensure those feelings don't flow into him, it's hard to feel calm right now.
The life I'd built for the two of us is in tatters now, destroyed by Dawson killing the betas to protect me.
I would have faced any challenge, as I have for the past five years since I sought refuge in the Moonshine Pack, and Sam and Darius's attack wasn't out of the ordinary for me.
I would have dealt with it, accepted my fate, and moved on.
But now Dawson has left me no choice but to flee the home I built for Gio and me.
Pulling back, I stare at my son's face, gazing into the eyes that resemble my own, glossed over with unshed tears. He's scared, afraid of my panic, and I cradle his plump cheeks and console him with a smile.
“Nothing's wrong, baby,” I assure him with a gentle cooing sound. “You and I are gonna go on a little adventure, okay?”
Gio's eyes widen and light up eagerly.
“Adventure?!” he perks up, and I've somehow successfully dispelled his worries. “Where are we going?”
Giggling lightly to hide my own worries, I get to my feet and take his tiny hand to lead him into the cabin.
“It's a surprise,” I say as we enter. “Now, you'll have to pack all your favorite things into one bag. Can you do that for me?”
Gio rushes out of my grasp and skips to the bedroom, coming back while clutching his favorite stuffed animal. He nods fervently, a smile stretching across his lips when he says, “I have Elie! I don't need anything else!”
***
It only takes us a few minutes to pack up what we need, and the howl in the distance alerts me that we don't have much time left. The Moonshine wolves are going about their nightly patrols, and soon, Sam and Darius's decapitated bodies will be discovered.
We have to get going.
My only consolation is that Dawson didn't follow me back to the village. He has no idea that Gio exists or that I'm planning to flee another wolf pack.
I just have to be careful not to alarm Gio, maintaining composure over my emotions as we prepare to leave the cabin.
“Ready, baby?” I ask as I take Gio's hand.
He nods eagerly, the broad smile on his face easing my concerns.
For the moment.
“I ready, Mama!” Gio declares proudly, his tuft of dark hair waving about as he nods and tightens his grip on my hand.
Offering him a warm, reassuring smile—perhaps to reassure myself that we're going to be okay with the sudden escape from Sunrise—I turn my attention to the door when a bleating cry slices through my eardrums.
The sound can't be heard except in my mind; I know because Gio remains oblivious as he whistles a nondescript tune that mimics the lullaby I sing for him at night.
It's happening again….
I'm having one of those panic attacks that foreshadow a looming danger, dread twisting my gut as it did years ago when I had the psychic premonition that I was pregnant with Dawson's child.
It's how I found out that I was carrying Gio in under a week after conception. It's how I impulsively decided to leave, knowing that my child would face rejection and wanting to save him from the torture I suffered in Snehvolk.
Just like I need to protect him now. Whatever is coming outside that door is too strong to escape.
Turning to Gio quickly, I grab his little shoulders and stare deeply into his eyes, fear trickling down my spine when I see myself reflected in them.
I was once a child, too, and no one could protect me from being rejected by the members of the pack I'd been born into.
No one could protect me from the loneliness of solitude in that library.
Not even Dawson Black could save me then.
I have to save him … I have to save my son….
Which is why I instruct him in a stern voice, “You need to go hide right now. Remember the spot I showed you?”
Gio's eyes lose their sprightly shimmer as he recalls the drill we've often rehearsed in case of an emergency. He knows exactly what is needed of him and doesn't make a sound of protest when he realizes how serious the situation is.
All he does is nod, probably so in tune with my emotions that he can sense my inner panic and hear the alarm bells that ring in my ears. His knuckles pale where he clutches the shoulder straps of his bag, his heart-shaped lips pressed into a firm line as he spins around and marches to the bedroom.
As soon as he disappears through the bedroom door, the front door comes crashing in, spurring me to my feet to face whatever the threat is. It’s a group of Moonshine Pack members who charge into my cabin, harassing me with the brutal accusation that I’m responsible for the deaths at the river.
“We know it was you!”
“They were our betas!”
“How dare you!?”
Through the chaos that ensues from the crowd that files into the small expanse of the cabin, I’m so suffocated and overwhelmed that I can hardly speak to defend myself. I open my mouth, but a whimper escapes, followed by a breathless huff when out of nowhere, I’m struck by a merciless fist.
My head snaps to one side, the crack of my neck joining the crash when I hit the wooden floor and bust my elbow with the impact.
I look up through the haze of my vision, the rowdy crowd appearing foggy as I lift my hand to my face, where I can feel something warm trickling down my chin.
That’s when I feel the throbbing of my nose and see crimson blood on my fingers.
I lift the bloodied hand in front of my face in a show of surrender.
“Wait! I can explain!” I protest, my voice finally working through the throes of the violence.
But I’m kicked in my ribs in response to my defense, curling over on one side when the brutal pain of cracking bones erupts through every fiber of my being.
“No!” I cry out, but the mob doesn’t listen, each one taking their turn to use me as a punching bag.
I close my eyes and take the blows. Everything else I’ve faced in the past pales in comparison to this outburst of violence, but it’s only because the pack thinks I was responsible for the deaths of Sam and Darius.
I may not have killed them with my own hands, but I’m responsible for their deaths, thanks to Alpha Dawson Black, who couldn’t keep his rage under control.
As tears pool behind my eyelids, I make a small request to the Moon Goddess to lay a protective hand over my son, where he hides beneath the rug in our bedroom, in the hole between the floorboards.
That’s the only thing I care about when death is nigh, and I surrender to the barbarity of the Moonshine Pack.
“Get. Away. From. Her!” a blaring voice rips through the ruckus and halts the violence that pins me to the ground. When the kicks and punches stop, that’s when I’m able to feel the magnitude of the pain in my broken bones.
I can only open my eyes a crack, seeing a familiar figure looming above me as the Moonshine Pack members disperse in fear of the figure’s imminent, commanding presence and tone when he growls.
“How dare you touch her?!” the threatening voice roars, his voice vibrating throughout the cabin.
“Who are you?!” one of the Moonshine members dares to ask.
‘Dares’ because the newly arrived male figure growls and spits out, “I am Alpha Dawson Black of the Snehvolk Pack, and Yvonne Lang is my mate!”
The cruelty I’ve suffered takes my consciousness long before I can question that statement or make sense of it. Within seconds, blackness wraps its dark tendrils over my vision, pulling me into an unconscious slumber.