It's been a few days since Colton told me about his mom and I swear she keeps plaguing my
thoughts. It's like a tiny itch in my brain I can't shake, and I keep coming back to it repeatedly for no
obvious reason. I even dreamt of her last night, and it was the weirdest most confusing thing ever. It
came after I finally located a memory of her in this shared library of thoughts and couldn't shake her
soft face from my visuals. I must have tried too hard and implanted her in my brain to mess with
me, it's the only explanation.
I do remember her vaguely without Coltonâs influence, only in my own memories sheâs faceless,
because I couldnât remember her all that well, so it's nice to apply features to her. She has Colton's
flawless beauty, his black hair, darkest chocolate eyes, and sallow skin, with a soft ambience that's
less masculine than his.
She used to come to the library near our farm every weekend to read books to the children. I
remember her being a caring quiet lady, well spoken, well dressed, and she had no prejudices
whatsoever against wolves from rival packs, the children were all one to her. She always wanted to
see us live in peace and harmony, and she had this warm pull that I see in Colton sometimes, when
he isn't closing up on me and freezing me out.
The dream lingers in my mind, despite being up for hours, and now, I'm sat on the grass taking a
break from training and can still feel her voice ebbing back to me from the recess of my mind.
Fatigue letting it slip back in as I cool down and catch my breath, and her haunting melodic tone,
filled with pleading, rings through again, the words which woke me this morning.
"Save us.â
It's all that comes through and it gives me the same shivers it did when I dreamt it. She walked up
to me, in a bright white, sterile, wall less space, with no one else around me but blurred nothingness
of light and stale air. Standing in the middle of what felt like a hospital, I don't know, unsure where I
was meant to go or how I even got there. Confused.
She appeared in the distance at first, catching my eye, almost hazy and surrounded by a fog which
cleared as she came closer. Dressed in a light shapeless gown, almost like a medical covering,
except it was pure snow white, not blue, or patterned. Her hair was loose, free, and hung longer
than I can recall from my memory bank, almost touching her waist, whereas she always kept it jaw
length in even Coltonâs memories.
When she came into focus at first, I could see her cheeks were wet with tears, eyes blood shot, her
skin streaked where they had fallen repeatedly and her smock was soaked through, as though
they'd been absorbing thousands of them, for an eternity. Her desperate sadness consumed, and
overwhelmed me, and I was rooted to the spot, unable to breathe with the heaviness of her pain.
She was eerily pale, beautiful still, but only the shadow of the woman from Coltonâs memories, thin
and worn down, as though her life was being sucked away. She touched my face softly, startling me
with the sheer heat she exuded, leaned in so close that she almost kissed me, her warmth invading
the coolness of my own air and whispered it right into my face, startling me to wake in the dull
stillness of my own room.
Those two damned words.
Shuddering again, aware the memory of her touch on my skin has pushed a physical sensation on
my cheek, and I touch it in a bid to remove the feel of it. The dream felt so real and I hate that it
won't leave me alone in waking hours, replaying on a loop, and affecting me so deeply. The total
opposite to Colton though, as heâs been practically absent, physically, and mentally.
Something he's been doing for an infuriating number of days. It's like opening up about her
reminded him of all the reasons he chose to reject me, and he back tracked at a hundred miles an
hour and completely pulled away. He's been on active avoidance ever since and it's both broken me
and pissed me off beyond the limits of boundary.
He comes to training, barks orders at me from a safe distance, and has our mind link on permanent
closed door. It's making me madder than hell, infuriating that once again he has done another U
turn, but whenever I try to talk to him, he walks off and blanks me. He makes sure I can't get close, I
can't touch him, and he either sticks with the sub pack so I canât get him alone or leaves before
anyone else does so I can't follow. A big fat âstay awayâ from me aura, all around that dense head of
his, and he won't even look me in the eye.
I know what heâs doing, and as much as I want to punch him in his genitals for it, I do understand,
but it's just so frustrating. What makes is worse, is Carmen has caught onto the strained atmosphere
and is laying on the oozing flirt mode with all her might, driving even the males of the pack to eye
roll every time she baby talks him. I think she sees it as hope, or an opening that she's on the path
to getting him back, and it's making me sick to watch her smugly move in on him at every
opportunity she gets.
Colton still isn't tolerating her, but it doesnât mean I'm not having visions of turning and ripping her
throat out multiple times a day. Killing a fellow wolf from your pack is a mortal sin, no matter the
excuse, but I would happily pay the time for that crime.
Meadow is the only thing keeping me sane, and last night she camped out in my room to cheer me
up and distract me, watching movies, and having girl time to throw off all the stresses of everything
going on around us. She brought me clothes, and make up, not that I need them now my own
belongings were left at my door when I came back from training a couple of days ago. I suspect
Colton went and packed up everything with my scent on in the orphanage, but I can't be sure, and
he won't stick around to let me ask him at all. It adds to my fury, because it shows he still cares, he
still thinks about my needs, but he won't face me at all. His mind is set, and I know what this means
for us, he's already chosen his course of action and heâs biding his time until it's done.
He doesn't come to mess hall to eat either, just shows up at the park to train and leaves as soon as
we're done for the day. He spends the rest of his time with Juan, patrolling the lay of the land, and
overseeing the training camp and the new buildings. I've seen them walking together many times
and I almost couldn't control my own loathing growls, or the hatred I have for that man.
The pack is getting uneasy and Meadow mentioned that he hasn't called any kind of communal
since, as though heâs avoiding any real dialogue with any of us. He knows the pack will have
questions about this. He brought me to them, made it seem like I might have a chance and then
snubbed me as they were beginning to accept my presence.
He's caught inside his own head as he tries to work things out, but we're losing time. Ticking away
slowly as the full moon approaches in its cycle and I don't think I can take much more. Logic is
telling me to give up on him, but I don't want to accept this is it. That he's done and given up on us
after what he said to me. My heart doesn't want to believe he could be this way.
I've been lost in my own thoughts, anxious, obsessing, crying, and worrying myself sick with the
chaos of this lack of closure. I'm not being a cold idiot and cutting him off, or avoiding him, like he
is me. I would talk to him in a heartbeat if he let me. It's like he just abandoned me after dumping
me in his sub pack, with no idea what I'm supposed to be now, how to feel, and what I'm meant to
do after the full moon.
If he marks her where do I go? What do I do? I'm only here because of my link to him. I'm not a
Santo, I don't belong here and although the sub pack seem to be warming to me, I'm not bonded
to them. I'm not one of them, and Carmen will kick my ass to the curb the second he marks her.
She'll be his beta, until she takes her place as Luna, pushing Meadow down the ranks, from merely
becoming his mate. That's how it works. She'll have more say than any of them and I can see Colton
allowing her to move me out for the sake of their pairing. She hates me with a passion and spends
all her time either drooling after him or throwing me shade. It's just a waiting game until she has
that power to finally eject me.
I exhale heavily and pull myself up off the grass where I've been sitting cross legged for the past ten
minutes, ripping at strands absentmindedly, letting my mind run riot, as Meadow strolls on up
beside me and slumps down too. She's barely flushed, no evidence of panting after scaling thirty-
foot tree climbs, and almost no sweat has formed on any part of her at all. I'm over here looking like
I rolled in a puddle, red faced, and having a cardiac arrest some twenty minutes after I did it, and
sheâs utterly unaffected.
I have to admit though, in only a few short days, my stamina is improving, and I no longer hit the
shakes and near vomit like the first time we did this. I'm getting stronger.
âWhat is it when men today? I swear, I must be getting my own cycle, because I want to stab idiots
in the head. It's like the haze is coming in and making them all stupid, or loco.â Meadow falls back
on the grass, seeming very athletic in pink leggings, and matching sports bra, that enhance her
natural assets. Cesar has been driving her mad the past few days, with his overprotective side
kicking in, as Juan upped the training schedule and started pushing his agenda a little harder. He's
been all over her, shadowing her through the course, stopping her before any he thinks might be
dangerous, and meeting her fury at molly coddling her. Males can't help it, even if their femmes are
capable, it's that need to shelter their mate.
The haze is mating season, and yes, it's fast approaching, and can make the males a little crazy
possessive, over sensitive, and willing to wrap their mates in wadding. It's an inevitable part of our
year, which thankfully is short lived, but sees every male and femme who've been turned go into
horny overdrive. Most mated couples don't leave the bedrooms for days on end. The unmated are
fair game, and result in rushed unions after it's over, many markings out of unwanted pupping's
have been borne in the past. It's craziness. I'm not looking forward to it coming at all, seeing as this
will be my first year on this side of the fence and I have no idea how it's going to feel. Especially
with a head and heart invested in a guy who intends to mark another.
Meanwhile, the villagers around the mountain are refusing to budge with, only a few actually
moving to the makeshift accommodation Juan has been building. I know this is angering him and
it's denting his ego that these people don't see him as the authority he thought they did. After all
these years of swanning around, thinking his transition to ruler was set in stone and no one would
dispute it.
His anger is obvious and the show of force yesterday as trucks came in, depositing screaming
women and children in the camp, hinted that heâs snapped and started to take them against their
will. It's horrendous, and I watched in horror as women with bound wrists, roped so they couldn't
fight, were hauled out and unclamped to be reunited with hysterical children from another truck. He
separated them. Taken babies from mothers in a bid to keep them compliant. Their mates following
soon after, giving up the fight and coming to submissive control to be with their families.
Who does that?
It left a mixed feeling among the Santos and everyone has been on edge, nipping at one another,
having to police the new additions in case they try to return home. You can feel the utter disgust in
the air around us. No one questioning their alpha, but no one agrees with this. The Santos aren't as
bad as I used to think they all were, and it's obvious that many are not like Juan at all.
Colton was beside him on the podium when the first trucks came in, and he couldn't stomach it for
more than seconds. Saying something to his father, I could see his aggression peeking, his
expression thunderous, his eyes glowing even from this distance, and his actions animated as
though showing his disapproval angrily. They argued and Colton stormed off and stayed out of
sight for the rest of the deposit. The elders all looking on in silent agreement with Juan, showing
who exactly in this hierarchy were the empty hearted and power hungry with all the control. Traitors
to their own kind.
It feels like this place is turning into a prison, much like the home was, with wardens and it's fast
collapsing around Juan's ears as wolves begin to question this in the corners and hallways. You hear
the whispers, but they soon fall silent for fear it'll get back to him. Everyone knows he's ruthless and
will punish any one of them, blood or not. He has his own lethal pack of war bitten psychotic wolves
who do his bidding. His elders, his brother, and his beta. Four deathly loyal sub packs at his beck
and call if you dismiss Coltonâs. Strong enough of a mini army to get wolves to fear them. Juan's
untouchable and has the force to back up his claim to being the uniting alpha. He rules with fear,
not respect. There's no care in his heart.
There's been no word on any vampire attacks beyond ours since the orphanage, we've had no word
that Juan has actually let anyone know about, and there hasn't been any new hits or hints of a
threat. Apart from my new living situation it's like it never happened and no one mentions the lives
we lost that day. I didn't even get to bury them or pay my last respects. The cleanup crew moved in
and their bodies were burned outside the city limits without anyone being told until after it was
done. Like worthless trash that needed to be disposed of. A black mark Juan wanted to wipe clean
and push out of sight, because he can never be seen to be failing at anything.
Juan hiding more shame, the same way he hides his failure mate, Luna Sierra Santo. It seems he
likes to keep secrets and pretend history is not what it is. I wonder how many of the stories of our
victories of the war have been exaggerated and twisted. No one talks of the fallen, or the battles
they lost, they only teach us of the heroic wins and the wolves that came back.
âTell me about it. Colton is high on my hit list today, not that I'll get close enough to do anything
about it.â I sulk into my own lap, answering Meadow, depressed and exhausted with this situation,
and Meadow leans up on her elbows to look at me.
âHe won't even talk to me about it, Chica. God knows I've tried, but heâs inside his own head. He
does this sometimes, although not for so long. Goes into lockdown and pushes everyone to arm's
length until he figures it out on his own, been this way since the wars made him grow up way too
fast. I think the impending full moon is only making him worse, as the clock ticks down, and his
father is still messing with his head. I swear, if Juan left him alone for just a week, maybe even a
couple of days, that boy would soon see right and do what his heart is telling him.â Meadow
spreads to star shaped across the grass and blows out a huge lungful of air, as though to expel her
frustration, staring at the sky.0