Page 5 of Mated to the Wolves

Proud faces stand out in the crowd, reminding me of what I don’t have. To get here, I exploited forgotten laws cashed in a chunk of my inheritance, and burned bridges.

Every risky move led me to the raised stage, making it all worth it. As they often do, my thoughts drift to my family.

Mom and Dad always encouraged my affinity for art. Running my thumb over the burn scars on my wrist that match the rest of my body, I fight the water threatening to flow from my eyes.

Survivor’s guilt is a concept I understand logically, but will never completely work through.

Sorrow rushes in like a wave. Grief is a funny thing. Never fully over, it ebbs and flows. I hope you’re proud of me wherever you are.

Sara Elizabeth Esham. A group of olive-skinned men and women wave cheer loudly, waving banners with Sara’s name.

A twinge of jealousy and pain hits me. I lost my family before I understood how precious they were. As children, we take so much for granted, because we’ve yet to know the agony of having those we care about ripped away.

I’m not the only one in the pack. I think of all the friends I’d lost to the illness targeting women in our people.

What comes on like a cold, can quickly turn deadly. Friends who had been fine one day were being buried in the weeks that followed. I learned more about death in my early years than some knew in a lifetime.

What would they be doing now had they been afforded the opportunity to grow? I run my fingers over the emerald green sash that both contrasts and coordinates with my black graduation robe.

A strange emptiness leaves me feeling hollow on a day that should be joyous. There are some wounds time won’t heal.

I let the moment pass as I swim through the current of what-ifs. No! I won’t linger on things I can’t change. Refocusing, I toy with the billowing sleeves of my gown as time drags.

Impatient to be out of the limelight, I tap my foot and cross my arms. Thinking lighter thoughts, I sweep the unfamiliar faces until I find my roommate. Keziah is the only person in the crowd celebrating my achievement.

Her pale hazel eyes lighten. She waves at me. Flashing the infectious white grin that spreads joy like sunshine, Kez chases away the gloomy musings encroaching on my mind.

The curly lilac-haired sculptor had been with me since our first year. I never intended to let anyone this close, but she wore me down. Her beautiful bronze skin, cat-shaped eyes, and giant afro puffs stand out.

Which is saying a lot at an art school full of creatives. I fade into the sea of women and men who have hair the color of the rainbow, unique styles, and many piercings. My plain dark brown hair and fresh face free of make-up are unremarkable by design.

I’m the last person anyone would take for a supernatural being. There are certain rules even I’m not willing to break. Allowing humans to learn about our existence is at the top of the what-not-to-do list.

“Ylva Bodil Eskildson.” Keziah’s voice rises above the polite applause as I walk across the stage. A hulking figure in the crowd draws my attention.

I meet the icy blue gaze of Cadoc, an elite enforcer for the pack, and one of my father’s closest friends. Sympathy softens the harsh planes of his diamond-shaped face.

His thick dark brows dip down as determination erases any trace of humility. No. His presence violates the agreement I brokered.

There was to be no contact other than my check-ins. The pack didn’t send their top enforcer to have a chat with me.

They’re going to try to take me back. Numbness spreads through my body as I disassociate. Suddenly, I’m a passenger in my body as I cross the stage.

I shake the dean’s hand, responding to his polite queries, as I plot an escape. Walking past him with my degree in hand, I rush down the stairs.

At the bottom, I take a sharp left, ignoring the usher waiting to guide me back toward my seat.

Blowing by him, I shout over my shoulder, “Sorry. Bathroom.”

Men pull away from the crowd as I fast walk through the crowded auditorium. On the opposite side of the room, I push open the double doors.

In the hallway, I break into a full sprint, clutching the scroll I sacrificed everything for. This is my ticket to freedom. It’s coming with me.

Deep down, I always expected this. Happiness has eluded me like a ghost since the fire burned away everything good in my life, trapping me behind a cage of fates’ making.

The campus is a ghost town. Storefronts are empty, sidewalks are free. I push my body to its limits.

Tapping into my wolf’s strength, I cover ground in a way no human could, blurring to the human eye. Using my power is a gamble I’ll take to procure the backpack that houses everything needed to start my new life off the grid.

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