Chapter 28: I’m Sorry: Part 3

The Awakening SeriesWords: 9028

I’m a whirlwind of emotions, and so much has happened in the last twelve hours that I need some time to let my brain catch up.

I’ve been through trauma, changes, and I need to process it all.

I can’t tell which way is up, and I’m no longer in control of a single tiny thing in my life. Not even where I’ll sleep tonight, let alone live tomorrow.

“Come. Please. You can’t stay here in this mess, and we need to get you some clothes.” He stretches his hand to me, extending his palm outward, and I brush it away.

“Why can’t you let me leave to figure this out on my own? This is the last place on earth I want to be.”

Tears begin to fall as self-pity hits hard, and I guess it’s because I’m physically and mentally exhausted, too.

This is not how I thought my life would go, and from the day I turned, it’s been hell and heartache all rolled into one.

He exhales heavily, frustrated with me, and yanks me to my feet with a forceful lunge at my arms instead, pulling me up despite my refusal, taking charge and not in the mood for arguments.

“Listen to me. I don’t want you to go. I need you to comply for a little while, and we’ll figure this out together.

“When this settles, I’ll go to the orphanage and pack up all your stuff, and we can talk about where we go from there; right now, I need you to come with me and do as I say.”

He has that edge to his voice I usually hear when he’s leading his pack around. It’s the “Don’t argue with me” commanding tone of Prince Santo.

What else can I do? I’m technically a prisoner here with nowhere else to go. I’m on my feet, with persistent pain in my ass bossing me around, in a house full of people who hate me.

I only have him on my side to depend on, and only because the Fates forced it.

I have nowhere else, and if I’m honest with myself, everything is too messy, my gifts too new, and my mental state a little too fragile to think about going anywhere alone. So, I nod reluctantly.

“Come on then. Stay close to me.” Colton turns and leads the way, sensing I don’t want or need him touching me.

I do as he says, staying right behind him, clutching my sheet and waiting while he grabs one, wraps it like a toga, and heads toward the door.

If Carmen saw us now, naked with ripped bedsheets to cover our modesty, she would only assume the worst, and I can’t imagine that going down well at all. I shudder at the possibility of her seeing us.

Within seconds we’re in the hall, moving along the wide passage in semi-darkness due to all the boarded-up windows and lack of lighting.

He leads onward, following some turns and a flight of stairs until we get to the floor below.

They put me on the top floor at the far end of the house, away from everyone, and now we seem to be on the third floor in a brighter hallway with doors all bearing names and keypads on each.

Colton stops me with an arm, pushes me back around the corner we rounded, and hushes me with a finger to my lips as two Santo pack members appear from an opening door.

Both walk out and head away from us, completely unaware of our presence.

He makes us wait for a second before leading us halfway down the hall to the third door on the right, and, turning, he places his hand on the pad to scan his palm, and it clicks open.

His name’s on the door, so I guess this is his room.

“Why are we hiding if you’re taking me downstairs, anyway?” I ask blatantly, composing myself since leaving that room.

He slides an arm around me and shuffles me into the darkened space, pulling me in and closing the door behind us with a last outward check of the hall.

He walks off across the bedroom toward a set of wooden doors in front of me, slides them open to reveal wardrobes, and starts pulling out clothes in multiples of two.

Thanks to the boarded-up windows, it’s dull in here, but the light is shining through the cracks brightly, illuminating enough to tell me daylight has come.

I follow him, taking in his room’s almost Scandinavian, Ikea style and minimalism.

He likes space and neatness, with very few items cluttering it up—neutral tones, light woods, plants, and a lot of floor space and open calmness. It’s clean, airy, and almost obsessively organized.

“Carmen just needs to know I brought you in here, and she’ll go nuclear. It’s best if I appear downstairs with you, where she’s contained because my ears and my head can’t handle her gifts right now.

“She still thinks we have a future, and I need to talk to her about that,” he carries on, focusing on clothes, and his tone level, as though he hasn’t just caused me pain with careless words.

It quiets me, and that distant heartache and pang of jealousy find its way back home to my stomach.

In all this mess, I wondered if our bond had been dented and if I was starting to feel differently about him.

I guess I’m not that lucky, as my heart still seems very much attached, despite everything. I’m mad at him, disappointed in him, yet I still yearn for and love him. My soul still wants and needs him.

We dress quickly; although his clothes are baggy on me, it’s better than showing up in a rag and a smile.

As I follow him close at heel, we make our way down another two flights of stairs and two other levels before we end up back where I caused such a scene hours ago—that sweeping staircase to the main entrance.

Only now, it’s impeccably calm.

It’s a lot cleaner and tidier now the debris is gone and the front door closed, with the addition of several new heavy-duty locking mechanisms in place.

The boarded glass panels are screwed on with braces over them for now, hinting that the threat of another attack is on Juan’s mind.

Colton unexpectedly takes my hand in his, sliding strong fingers into mine, and leads the way across the vast marble floor into a small hallway that runs away from the bathroom he put me in earlier.

I accept his touch, needing it now that I’m coming down from what happened upstairs, once again vulnerable and out of my depth and clinging to him to take charge while in his domain.

I draw from his strength and ability to swagger through the worst kind of chaos.

We walk down the dark, almost claustrophobic space, with voices, noises, and lots of movement cascading our way. We follow two Santos we catch up with inside the most crowded room I’ve ever seen.

It’s hard to tell how big it would be empty, for it’s packed solid with adult Santo wolves, primarily male, from all over, even the ones who don’t live in the pack house.

There’s easily over a hundred or so, and they’re all squeezed in, fighting for breathing space as we join at the back, unseen.

Right down at the front, several elders and the shaman are standing on a low podium facing back at us all.

Men I have never seen before in my life are standing behind them, and I guess these are the older generation of retired elders coming out in our time of need.

It’s mostly men in here, as is the way when dealing with important matters, or femmes who have no children and are better suited to battle, as all those not here are at home minding their little ones.

Juan Santo is right in the center and seems to be waiting for everyone to quiet before he starts. The overwhelming seriousness of this cascades around the room, thickening the atmosphere with tension.

Colton pulls me in front of him, placing me right at his chest so he’s up against my back, lacing his fingers into my hands from behind as they hang by my sides in the darkest of our shadows.

He rests his chin against the back of my head, bringing his body to fit snugly into mine so we are wholly joined without it being apparent to those around us.

He’s a good head taller than me, so it’s a natural position, and I glance around to see if anyone is staring, but they’re all too focused on their alpha king.

It looks like two people are standing close due to the crushing lack of space as our hands are concealed in darkness.

“Quiet now.” A voice from the front row hushes the nervous mumbling and scraping in the room, and everyone stops talking, the atmosphere somehow heavier with the forced hush.

Juan steps forward, although I can barely see him over the people in front of me and have to stand on my tiptoes to get a good view between heads.

There’s a moment of pause as he looks around us all, his eyes catching his son across the crowds, and I can’t miss the brief surge of anger as he realizes I’m right in front of him.

I glance away, instantly scalded, landing back down on flat feet, wounded by the penetrating glare, and scan the room instead to see if Carmen is nearby.

I can’t see her, thankfully, which means she probably can’t see us, and I try to sink further better to conceal myself behind the Santo in front of me.

Colton squeezes my hands and holds me closer, somehow letting me know I should ignore it.

~“Be still. You’re safe with me.”~

He comes through gently, caressing my mind with a tender tone, and I exhale dejectedly.