Page 82 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

They get quiet, and my mind screams. I can hear a dark laugh, a thudding pain. Roseland gets stabbed, his blood hot on my cheek as he orders me to run.

“Okay, I’ve got her. Let's move,” Sage and his scent surround me. I should feel safe, but I’m so far away.

“It’s night,” Pix protests.

“Yep. It is. Got a problem with that?” Rolly snarls.

“I’m not worried about me,” Pix snaps back. “What happens if she takes off?”

“Hey! Remember who the enemy is. We take them down, we protect her,” Sage urges. “We will be fine.”

I’m scooped up, and when I peel open my eyes, Sage swipes my hair back from my face.

“It’s going to be okay, Merle.”

They run. I’m jostled, but I don’t make a sound. I just lay in his arms, watching the trees bend in the wind, as thick grey clouds obliterate the night sky.

“Bad weather's coming in,” Sage says.

“I know, but it can cover us. It might give us a chance. There are too many of them,” Blaze says in frustration. “I should have brought more weapons.”

Sage grunts, and they run faster.

We’re being driven away from where we needed to go. I’m going to get these alphas killed. I just know it.

We reach ariver, but it’s roaring.

“Up or back?” Pix shouts.

“Up!” Blaze says, and we ascend towards the blackness of the sky.

I wonder if it’s hell.

I wonder if I’m being punished. If tonight is the night I die.

Why am I hanging on? I should let go.

I’m staying because I love them. Because I don’t want to go. My eyes open, and I stare up at roiling storm clouds.

I love them. So simple. So ruinous.

“We have company!” Rolly hisses as he suddenly appears on Sage’s left. Even to my distraught gaze, he’s pale and tense.

They need to let me go, or they will die, too.

They are good alphas. They shouldn’t die for me.

They climb up a series of boulders, handing me from arms to arms, slowing everything down, making themselves targets.

The first drop of rain is fat, heavy, and freezing cold. A prelude to what is coming. I stare at Rolly’s face as he jumps across three boulders, carrying me like I weigh nothing.

I wonder what he does for a living? Is he a painter? A carpenter? Perhaps he answers the phones in an office that is slowly killing him. Did he like his parents? Does he have anyone else besides Pack Prince? What is his favourite food?

There are so many questions, so many things I want to know. It wasn’t enough time. Nothing was ever going to be long enough, but I regret. I bitterly, bitterly regret.

I reach up, touching my fingers to the side of his neck, drawing his attention. He crouches and buries his face in my hair.

“It’s okay, Merle. It’s going to be okay.”