Leave Janelle by Sarah Spade
4
Leaving is actually far easier than I thought it would be.
Jack isn’t just arrogant. He underestimates how dangerous a mother wolf can be when she’s backed in a corner and she has her pup to protect. So even though he’s given me every reason to go, he doesn’t even have one of his wolves watching my cabin after he goes.
I try not to think about Scott, how only last night he was stopping by to “check up on us”. He was a lecherous asshole, but he didn’t deserve what Jack did to him. Sure, he challenged Jack as pack leader by making moves on me when Jack was out of the District, but he was his Beta. That should’ve given him some leeway, right?
I guess not.
Maybe that’s why no one’s out there. Whenever the next Beta is forced out of the role—one way or another—Jack has to gather his loyal wolves close. He’ll have to assure them that the missing wolf had it coming, and even though they know Jack’s gone through more Betas than I can count in the three-plus years that he’s been Alpha, a few of those lunkheads will still volunteer to be his right-hand wolf.
Plus, the full moon is so close. She’ll be affecting the rest of the pack, too, and I can just imagine half of Jack’s sentries sneaking off to work out some of their aggression and need. Localized fights will erupt, or the males will either go home to their mates or to whatever single female will have them. Some of the young pups will be getting ready to shift for the first time and happy, content families will be celebrating.
For tonight, at least, no one’s thinking about me.
The only one who might be is Jack. But after three years of doing his bidding, of jumping whenever he told me to, of catering to his every need… after three years of being the omega I am, he’ll never guess that his visit will have finally spurred me to do something about our broken mating.
Jack doesn’t bluff. If he says I’ll regret refusing him… if he pointedly promises to drown my pup… I know he means it. No one will stop him, either—no one, except for me. I have no illusions that my escape attempt is going to be successful, but I know I have to try.
For Ruby’s sake, if nothing else.
He could threaten me and I’d never react. But threaten my child?
I’m an omega, but I’m still a wolf. My claws are out.
Just in case, I take nothing with me except for a few human dollars and my pup. In the Wolf District, we don’t use money. We’re kept remote from the rest of the human world, with Jack refusing to mingle with them. Ours is a shifter-only community, where we live side by side and provide for each other. As his mate, I was given everything I needed, but I still had some money that my parents gave me when I first headed west with Jack. I never used it, and though he ordered me to get rid of it, I squirreled it away in one of the first acts of disobedience against my new mate.
I’m glad I did. It’s not much, but it’s something in case I have to rely on human help to escape. I’m not above using the non-supe creatures, mainly because my home pack had a working relationship with a local human neighborhood. It’s pretty rare for shifters to mingle with humans—and almost unheard of for my kind to have anything to do with our sworn enemies, the vampires—but I have no problem doing it, especially since it’ll be the last thing Jack expects.
I didn’t dare take anything else. Just in case Jack stops back, or one of his runners do, I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that I left. At first glimpse, it would seem as if I took Ruby out for a walk. By the time they realize that I’ve abandoned the cabin, I want to be far enough away that Jack decides it’s not worth chasing after me.
Please, Luna. Please make it so that he lets me go…
For the first leg of my escape, I convince myself that maybe I have a chance. I’m going in my skin, the money tucked securely in a pouch around my neck; it’s charmed so that, should I shift, I’ll still wear it as a wolf even if my clothes are toast. Ruby is wide awake despite the late hour, and the nearly full moon reflects in her curious eyes. She’s as quiet as the grave, though. No yips. No whines. As if she can tell that this is deathly serious, she keeps her pudgy arms wrapped tightly around my neck as I walk further and further away from the District.
I waited until it was dark out only because I was hoping that my other packmates would be too busy beneath the moon to notice I was gone. It’s a calculated risk, especially since it takes everything I have to fight her pull back toward Jack, but I do. Every time I falter, I glance down at my daughter and push on.
There’s a thicket of trees that surround my cabin. Past the thicket is a deep gulley that I can jump easily in my fur. It’s a little tricky in my skin, especially with such precious cargo, but I want it bad enough. I just manage to clear the five-foot crevice, then pick up the pace as I disappear deeper into the next densely forested patch of land that hides the District out of sight from the humans.
As a shifter, I can sense the outer reaches of our territory; it’s almost like an invisible line that marks all the space on one side as Western Pack land. Go past it and my layer of protection disappears.
Poof. It’s gone.
Out there, I’ll be considered a lone wolf if I refuse to return to my pack, and if I cross into another pack’s territory, I’ll be a stranger—and a target.
That’s why I planned to hide in a human city instead. Running into another wolf could be just as dangerous as staying behind. Outside of the district, I have my status as the Wicked Wolf’s mate working against me, plus the truth of my pup’s ranking. Leaving Jack doesn’t mean I’m automatically safe, especially since there’s always the chance that another enterprising wolf might decide to make a deal with Jack to return me to him.
I try desperately to shake off that thought. Right now, the only thing I need to worry about is escaping Jack’s territory. I’ll deal with how I’m going to stay away once I’ve gotten out.
About five miles separate my cabin from the furthest reaches of the Wolf District. My heart is racing, my ears picking up every single sound over my feverish breathing, but I start to feel a little hopeful that I can really pull this off when I’ve reached about mile four.
And that’s when I hear the first howl.
I freeze.
No.
Ruby clutches at the top of my shoulders. “Mama?”
Swallowing back the lump of fear that’s suddenly lodged in my throat, I give her a shaky grin. “It’s okay, baby. Just… hold tight. Hold tight to Mama. We’re gonna run.”
Beneath the moonlight, I see her tiny forehead scrunch up. “Wolf?”
She wants to know if she should shift.
I shake my head. “In a little bit. Okay?”
She nods and does what I told her to. She tightens her grip on me and, once I can move past the terror that has me locked into place, I take off at a sprint.
I’m prepared for the next round of howls. It’s another packmate, though I’m not sure who. It doesn’t matter. Two distinct howls mean two distinct hunters are coming after me.
Because I’m not that naive. Wolves are often silent hunters, using howls to communicate with the rest of the pack. This close, and from the pitch of their howl, there’s no way that they’re not coming after me. Worse, because they’re obviously shifters, that howl was on purpose. They want me to know I’m their prey.
My one saving grace is that it isn’t Jack. I know the sound of his howl all the way down to my bones. If he’s out there, he’s being quiet, especially when a third howl—much closer this time—lights a fire under my ass.
One mile. I have one mile to some semblance of freedom.
I’d make it faster if I could shift. Without Ruby clinging to me, I would’ve. But despite how advanced she is, she’s still a pup. It would be too easy for us to separate if she was running alongside me, and I’d be slowed down if I carried her between my fangs. Staying in our skin is a gamble, but I’d rather be caught by Jack’s wolves than risk losing Ruby in the woods.
Cradling her head, I hold her to me as I push through the bushes, the trees, past the rocks, and over the fallen logs that act as a natural deterrent to any fool encroaching on pack land. I don’t look behind me because I don’t want to see the flashing shifter’s eyes chasing us. After that last howl, the hunters go silent, but I know they haven’t given up.
In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re herding me right where they want me.
I didn’t forget what marks the end of Western Pack territory. The river is more than thirty feet across and there aren’t any bridges nearby. It has rapids dotting along the twelve-mile length, plus a current that makes it super dangerous to try to cross even when you’re not desperately clutching your child.
I’m almost positive that they’ll expect me to reach the river and stop. I’m an omega, after all, and they’d never guess I’d brave the river.
But I didn’t forget. I knew where I was heading all along. If I want to really leave Jack, this is the only way to do it.
I can scent the water in the air as we get nearer to it. It has a few natural smells that call out to my wolf: it’s fishy, it’s musky, it’s wet. My hearing might not be as keen as an alpha’s, but I pick up on the rushing water before I reach it. I know it’s there.
If we want to avoid Jack’s wolves, there’s only one choice.
Rubbing Ruby’s back, I murmur softly, “Shift, baby girl. Come on, sweetie. Shift for Mama.”
It’ll be easier if we go in our fur. I’m a much stronger swimmer when I’m my wolf, and I’m hoping that it’ll be the same for Ruby.
I hate that we have to abandon our clothes so soon. I’d had the idea that we’d make it to the river, strip, and I could find a way to carry them across the raging waters with us. Now I can’t even justify the few seconds it’ll take to undress.
Ruby’s confusion pings off of me. Ever since she could shift, I made sure to teach her not to ruin her clothes, and here I am now, telling her to shift without encouraging her to save her clothes first.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. Then, setting her down, I show her that it is by shifting first.
My clothes explode into tatters, raining down on us both.
Ruby laughs. It’s such a sound of delight that, for a moment, I can almost forget about the wolves at our heels. I bark out a laugh of my own before nuzzling her in the side with my damp snout.
Come on, Ruby. Come on—
I let out a huff of relief when my bouncing baby shifts into an excitable blonde pup. She bounds over to the edge of the river. It’s like it’s all a game to her, and I’m glad. I don’t want my girl to be afraid.
I’m scared enough for the both of us.
* * *
All I can say is thankthe Luna for all the times I used to go swimming back home.
I used my front paw to get rid of as many pieces of our ripped and torn clothing as I could before I said a prayer to the Luna, gripped Ruby by her scruff, and leaped into the icy river.
The current immediately picked us up in its grip. I didn’t fight it. As quickly as it moved, it carried us further downstream than I could’ve run with my pup. Plus, it helped me cover our scent trail. The wolves tracking us would follow our scents to the point where we shifted, but other than knowing that we jumped into the river, they’d have no idea where we went next.
For all they knew, we could’ve drowned. Jack’s threat was a taunt the entire time I let the current sweep us away. Had I doomed Ruby to the same fate I was so determined to avoid? For a few terrifying seconds there, I was almost sure that I had.
Luckily, I didn’t. I saved my energy until I judged that we’d made it far enough, then I started to cross the river. I kept worrying that I would lose her and I probably overcompensated by biting down hard on her scruff, but my girl’s a trooper. She hung limply from my muzzle, making it as easy as possible for me to push through the water.
The second I finally dragged her out of the river, I know we’ve crossed out of Jack’s territory. The river marks the edge of the Wolf District, and though I’ve never gone this way before, it ruffles my fur as we leave it behind.
To my surprise, though, we almost immediately pass onto land that belongs to another pack.
Ruby can sense it, too. Even though I’m carrying my pup by her scruff, she whines softly. It’s like an electric charge between one step and the next. The air is different. Thicker. More oppressive. My wolf begins to echo Ruby’s whine, but I clamp my muzzle shut before it does.
Huh. I had no idea that the Wolf District backed up directly onto another pack’s territory.
I should’ve guessed. For as long as I’ve known Jack, growing his pack in size hasn’t been his only obsession; more than anything else, he wants to lord over a huge territory. He wouldn’t have stopped pushing the edge of his borders unless he was forced to.
Like, oh, bumping up against the border of the nearest pack before trying to shove them away?
This… this makes things a lot more difficult. As much as I want to avoid other shifters until I’m certain I’m free of him, that seems impossible now—and I’m too beat to even think of an alternative plan.
As it is, I’ve already allowed my wolf to take over. The human side of me is so beaten down by everything that has happened today. I want to collapse, but my wolf’s survival instinct is so much stronger. Giving complete control over to her—I’d trust no one else with my pup’s safety—I don’t put up a struggle when she veers toward the nearest patch of woods instead of trying to find another way out.
My hackles do go up a bit when I sense another shifter not too far from where we are. It’s a wolf, like me, and I’m pretty sure it’s a male. I pull up short when I catch his scent, but my wolf tugs against my sudden nerves until I remember that I’m letting her lead.
I never should have doubted her. Using the moonlight to guide us, she brings us to a massive stone structure that looks like it’s been picked up by a giant, then dropped haphazardly in the middle of the woods. At first glance, I can’t tell if it’s man-made or natural, but then I notice that it’s deeper than it initially appeared. Taller, too.
Not a mountain, not quite, but close enough. A rocky hill? Maybe. I don’t really care what it is. It’s safe. There’s a worn-down footpath that leads out of the dense overgrowth of the wooded area, and as my wolf heads right to it as if she’d planned this all along, I realize what she’s found.
A cave.
Cavern.
Whatever.
It’s somewhere to hide, and though I can scent territory markings all over the rock, the stink of urine is old. No one has been here in a while. I don’t have to worry about true animal predators hanging around, either, since the markings would’ve been enough to warn them away.
If this was any other situation, they would’ve been enough to warn me away, too.
But not tonight. Not when I finally escaped with Ruby, and not when I’ve already been chased by Jack’s wolves. The panicked swim through the river sapped the last of my adrenaline. I need somewhere safe to hide my pup and get a few hours of rest before I decide what I’m going to do next.