Page 29 of Ravaged Wolf
When my parents gave up on me finishing my internships and decided it’d be best that I work from home, I didn’t need a window. I got a computer with the internet so I could work for accounting, doing billing. I was always good with numbers, so that was fine.
No one said I had to stay home, but they let me, so I did. It was easier than seeing the pity in everyone’s eyes, better than trying to put people at ease while they think about how my own mate nearly killed me in a rut.
And it was easier than taking the elevator past the twelfth floor and wondering who is living in 1248 now.
Easier than passing the fifth floor and wondering if the hall in front of Trevor’s old apartment might still smell a little like gravy.
Easier than being reminded by stairwells and soda cans and work boots that I had a mate, and he was kind, until I drove him into a rut and ruined both our lives.
Dad got the promotion—they weren’t going to give it to someone else when his poor daughter was ripped to shreds in an infirmary bed—but they never moved us to a higher floor. Maybe if they had, I’d have gotten a room with a window, but they didn’t, so I stare at a screen or at the walls.
And I wait.
Forsomething.
Not for Trevor. He’s never coming back.
Not for someone to tell me what happened to him. Allthey’ll say is that I never have to see him again. If I push, they say don’t upset yourself.
Not for someone to tell me what to do with myself now, how to get out of this room—this hole—and live life again.
Uncle Howell visited me the day I got home from the infirmary. He said no one blamed Trevor or me. It was an unfortunate tragedy. No one’s fault. No one saw it coming, or it would never have been allowed to happen. When we were alone again, Dad told me that Uncle Howell was being kind. If I’d listened and stayed inside, I wouldn’t be where I am.
No one visits anymore. Brynn and Teagan did in the beginning. I think Aunt Catrin made Brynn, and Brynn dragged Teagan along, and they made a habit of coming after work for a half hour so they could be fashionably late to happy hour. But then, last year, the whole pack kind of fell apart.
Cadoc Collins, the alpha’s heir, mated a scavenger named Rosie, and when that romance ended with a showdown between him and his uncle, Cadoc led every scavenger in the bogs out of Moon Lake just like his grandfather led our ancestors out of the dens.
Apparently, scavengers did the bulk of the work needed to keep basic services running, so everyone got assigned a second job that they’re calling “public service.” Brynn and Teagan don’t have time to visit now. They spend the hours after their day jobs in the High Rise cafeteria doing food prep.
Since I don’t have to act okay anymore for visitors, I spend a lot more time sitting on the edge of my bed and staring at a wavy wall until my head hurts. When I’ve had enough, I lie down, and if my mom asks why I’m in bed, I say I’ve got a migraine, and she’s usually too frustrated with me to expend the energy to nag me about making myself useful.
Today is a Tuesday.
It’s been five years since the terrible night, as I call it in my head.
The terrible night feels like yesterday and like something that happened decades ago to someone else. I’m no different than I used to be, but also, I’ve never been the same since.
I have an inbox full of action items that I could knock out in a half hour if I focused, and then I’d have the rest of the day to do whatever I want, but there’s nothing I want to do.
There’s no reason I shouldn’t log on to my computer, clear some invoices, take a nap, shower, help make dinner, trudge through all the things I’m supposed to do. Today is a day like every other one.
There is noreasontoday should be different from yesterday.
Last night, I had a new dream, different from the usual moon or a river or bright green moss on a fallen log. I guess my subconscious is obsessed with the beauty of nature since I spend my life indoors.
I wonder what the weather’s like outside today.
The weather was perfect in last night’s dream. For the first time, I saw a crystal blue pool in a huge cavern with these gothic stalactites and stalagmites. Overhead, a natural skylight let in the sun. It was beautiful.
The cavern reminded me of the Old Den that we visited on field trips back in primary school, but that cave was dusty and dim. This place was magical. The sun streamed down like liquid gold.
I feel like I haven’t seen the sun in years. What did it even feel like on my skin? The memory of warmth from last night’s dream is stronger.
Deep inside me, my wolf stirs, dragging herself up to siton her haunches as she yawns. She still sleeps most of the day away. Lucky her. She never hits that point where she’s slept so much that she can’t sleep anymore.
I look down at myself. I’m wearing navy leggings, white ankle socks, and a blue plaid shirt two sizes too big that falls past my knees. I can hide my hands in the cuffs and my neck in the popped collar. It’s my new uniform. Oversized flannel and soft pants.
I’m not wearing shoes. I rarely do. My sneakers are in a cubby in the closet.
