chapter 2

Everly We get to see Emily and sit with her for about an hour. Tubes are hanging out of her nose and mouth, her arms covered in even more. The room smells heavily of antiseptic, but I can still smell the infection running through her veins, and the IV of antibiotics hooked up to her. Emily doesn’t deserve this; nobody does. She looks so frail, her skin pale, and I find it hard not to break down. Emily was always so bubbly—a real chatterbox. Seeing her like this is heartbreaking. I pray she wakes up soon, pray she will pull through this. I would even drink her terrible coffee. Goddess, I wish I could be drinking that horrible coffee. I wouldn't even complain if it meant she’d come back to us. Eventually, Zoe has to leave to help Marcus, and Macey wants to go home and check on Taylor. We aren't sure if she can hear us, but they both say goodbye to her anyway. Sitting next to Emily, I hold her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it. “You hold on, Em. Benny needs you,” I tell her. Kissing her hand, I tuck her blankets around her and reluctantly leave as well. It’s dark as I climb into my car—it’s the middle of the night—and I listen to the radio as I head toward the old commune and to Emily's mobile home on my way to the hotel. I feel mentally and physically drained, and all I want to do is go home, see Valarian, and crawl into bed beside my mate. The commune is all mud and puddles, the rough terrain a little slippery since the storm, yet I manage to navigate through to the back where Emily's trailer is and get out. Using the key Officer Derrick gave me not long after she went missing, I use it to unlock the flimsy door. I step inside the tiny little place she shares with her son. Toys and stuffed bears rest on the bed they share, a small TV is perched in the corner, and the walls are littered with Ben's artwork. I see two jars of her special home-made coffee and chuckle. I also see a blue duffle bag hanging on a hook on the wall and grab it. After going around the little home looking for clothes with her son's scent on them, I carefully bag them, making sure not to taint them with my scent; I hope it will give Emily comfort in her vulnerable state. I also tidy up a little and while doing so, I find a picture of her and Ben taped to her fridge, both smiling as they stand out in the front of the school. He’s only nine years old, and is her entire life, her world; and she’s a good mom, quirky, but that's what everyone loves about her. No one loves her more than her son, though. Emily works her ass off, and her only dream is that her son will grow up and one day become part of a pack and have the opportunities the other pack kids have. We all wish that our kids will be a part of something bigger than us; that they’ll achieve more than us. It’s what most parents dream of for their kids; to give them more, watch them grow and succeed, knowing we got at least one thing right. Grabbing the picture, I put it in the bag for her just as my phone starts ringing in my pocket. Valen's name pops up on the screen. “Where are you?” he says, his voice frantic. “At Emily's place, grabbing a few things for her room. I'm hoping something with Ben's scent will help her hold on,” I tell him. “Head home now! A forsaken got past the borders! The border patrol has been chasing it for an hour; it keeps going to the commune. Get out now, Everly!” he orders. “What?” I shriek, looking nervously out the open door of the trailer. “I’m sending men to your location. Get out now!” he says, and I hurry to grab the bag. Rushing out the door, I lock it before running to my car and tossing the bag onto the passenger seat before quickly starting my car. “Marcus is on his way!” I hear Valen say as I put the car in reverse and look around into the darkness of the night. The tires spin, yet I’m not moving! The truck only groans as the engine revs, spraying mud everywhere and up the side of my truck. I try to drive forward, but it only makes the hole deeper. I’m stuck! “Everly?” “I'm stuck,” I tell Valen. My breathing becomes louder as panic sets in. “Hold on, I’m on my way,” Valen says. “What about Valarian?” I ask, glancing at the phone on the passenger seat, though the sound is coming through the Bluetooth in the car. I don’t want my son anywhere near here if a forsaken is on the loose. “Tatum will watch him till my father gets here,” Valen says before hanging up. “Fuck!” I curse. Just my luck! What’s the saying? It happens in threes? Well, I hope this is the last of my bad luck today. The commune is eerily still—my headlights light up the forest surrounding the commune. As I stare out the windshield, I crack my window just a little to hear howls and wolves in the forest. My heart races, waiting for Marcus or Valen to get here. I refuse to get out of the car; I’ve watched one too many horror movies and know that’s a bad idea. ‘You okay?’ Valen says through the mind-link. I can feel him getting closer, but he’s still a fair way out. ‘Yes, fine, just a little freaked out.’ This place is creepy and I don't know how Emily lives out here. Yet, she loves her little spot. “I’ll be there soon, just keep talking to me,” Valen says. I explain about Emily; not that he doesn't already know—he’d been calling me all night, checking in. But rambling is better than panicking. Suddenly, I see a wolf run out of the tree line, two border patrols chasing after it and my eyes widen as I see them tear into the creature. The wolf turns and beelines straight toward my car. Only, it diverts toward the trailer at the last second, clawing at the walls before snarls send it running again. It seems so small for a normal forsaken. It tries to run back toward the tree line to escape, terrified. I watch on in horror. “Everly?” Valen says as I see the two border patrols tear into it. Its howls are horrifying to hear when it’s flung across the dirt and suddenly shifts—or tries to. My heart lurches in my chest as I see the figure getting to its feet. Semi-shifted, its body is still covered in fur and its limbs are deformed. He looks like most forsaken, only smaller, until he shifts. It takes me a moment to realize the forsaken is a child. Then it looks at me and I instantly recognize that little face—it’s the only recognizable trait he has—and my heart nearly stops. I don't even remember opening the car door as I see one of the patrols go to rip into him. His petrified eyes, so much like his mother's, widen as I run toward them. “NO!” I scream. The sound that leaves me is more of a strangled wail as I scream out as one of them tackles him, tearing into his neck and shoulder. He jumps back, looking at me running toward them, waving my arms frantically. “Please, Goddess, no!” I cry, skidding on the ground as I fall to my knees next to the body. The border patrol try to shove me back, but my claws slip from my fingertips, and slash at them, an angry growl escaping me before I grab him. Sobs wrack my entire body as I smooth back his hair, looking at what has become of him. He’s deformed, and it shouldn't be possible. How is it possible? He’s just a boy? He has no wolf yet! One of the patrols shifts back and reaches for me. “GET A FUCKING AMBULANCE NOW!!” I scream, clutching onto him and trying to protect him from the patrols. “He’s a forsaken,” the guard says. I shake my head. The boy’s eyes flutter open, bloodshot and rabid, but I only hold him tighter as he thrashes, snarling and growling, trying to attack me. But I know this boy—this isn't him. Someone has done something horrific to him, but that isn't who he is. His wounds are horrific, and he eventually passes out in my arms. His slow heartbeat is the only indicator that he’s still alive. “Call for help!” I wail as tears stream down my face. “Luna?” the young patrolman questions. “He isn't forsaken! He’s a fucking child!” I scream, baring my canines at them as they slip from my gums. I hear the mind-link open as the border patrol orders for an ambulance. “It's okay, it's okay, help is on the way,” I whisper to him. “Luna,” the patrolman says, grabbing my arm, but I shake him off. “Don't touch me,” I snap. “He’s dangerous,” he tries to reason, but I don’t care. I’ve known this boy since he was in diapers; I’ve watched him grow. I don’t care how dangerous he is, he’s family—part of my village. “He is not dangerous. He was trying to come home, trying to come home to his mother,” I growl at them. “Hang on, Ben, hang on for me,” I whisper, clutching him closer while my hand presses against his gaping wound, holding it shut, trying to stem the bleeding from his shoulder. Hearing a car, I see headlights light up the clearing and see Valen jump out of his car frantically. He races toward me. I hear sirens in the distance on their way here and relief washes over me. “Everly?” Valen screams at me fearfully; probably because I’m so close to the mutated wolf. “It's Ben, it's Emily's son,” I choke out, turning my attention back to the boy in my arm—or half boy. Valen grabs my arms trying to pull me away, but I shove him off. “Nobody touches him,” I snarl at him. I will not allow them to kill him, I don't care how dangerous he is. “Everly!” he snarls. “Tell them to stand down,” I growl. Valen growls too, looking at them and nodding for them to back off.