There’s never been a whole lot of comfort in this house, not the way there would have been if I’d shifted. If I’d been born normal.
It’s not a hardship to leave and the small voice of hesitation I expected to hear is oddly silent. It’s time for us to go.
I’d known better, but I made a choice and led us here. We never should have come back to Ironwood in the first place.
Chapter
Ten
We take it slow on our way out. Grayson broke in through the window at the end of the halfway and the near—enough—arbor leading like a ladder down into the raised beds where Mom grows her herbs.
A wild tangle of thyme obscures any footprints he left in the softened mulch.
I’m not as deft as he is. On the way down, my feet slip on the diamond rungs and I get splinters between my fingers. Dried clematis leaves crunch under my hands. Grayson makes it to the bottom first and stumbles, his balance lost before he holds out his hands to me.
If I fall, I’ll take us both down.
His arms are sure as they band around my waist, assisting my hop to the ground. He brushes dead leaves from my sleeves.
“I never thought anyone would look so adorable in bunny pajamas,” he murmurs.
“Better than the flannel?”
“Different. You’re adorable in anything you wear, Mandi.”
His rough tone brushes over me. Then reality knocks me on the side of the head and instincts urge me tofucking run, my veins filled with ice instead of blood. Another glance at the window shows it closed, free from shadows or ghosts.
Our luck won’t hold for long, not with so many wolves prowling with their amazing noses.
“I want to hear more about this later.” I tug Grayson toward the edge of the yard and the small pathway leading to the woods beyond.
Each house in the community is bracketed by a large expanse of trees bleeding into more land for us to roam.
The high fence stretches around the community and every acre purchased by the pack acts like their version of a bunker.
But I know where the tear in the fence is located. The same tear I’d once burst through only to find Grayson wounded, newly bitten, condemned to this life he hadn’t asked for.
“If they realize we’re gone before we’re out, then we’re finished. This is our last chance.”
The last thing my body wants is to jog. The emptiness inside doesn’t make me lighter, it only muddles my head with dizziness.
Grayson glares straight ahead. “Trust me, I get it.”
He ambles beside me and tilts to the side, listening. I do the same for a very different reason.
It’s early enough in the day for the rest of the pack to be up with the sun, morning risers most of them. But with the excitement of the research party and my absence, they’re probably catching up on other things.
I cross mental fingers.
The busier they are, the more distracted they are, the better for us.
“It’s this way.” I tug on Grayson’s elbow to course-correct him.
The dappled shade of the woods behind our house melts into cleaner paths. There are no thorns to snag us here. Moss grows on the sides of trees and stones, and the clearings are packed with clover and hairy bittercress. This isn’t the wilderness.
But there are still monsters.
We make it to the edge of the neighbor’s yard before I freeze, my senses on high alert.