Page 9 of Red

“It’s not working.” Frustrated, I sat down in the water, soaking my clothes, causing steam to rise around me.

“Have patience, sweetheart,” Mom called from the shore.

Pratt’s and Mom’s teachings have prepared me way more than I expected. More so, reminding me that they might’ve seen this time coming more than I ever did—me alone without them.

Stark tilts his head at me, his blue eyes glowing from the sunlight in the window. They’re not large like in his wolf form, but still carry the same vibrant color. His dark hair sweptback. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” I don’t laugh despite wanting to. I can’t enjoy Stark’s presence, knowing I’m just some helpless thing he’s stuck with because of old-school rules. Plus, this is temporary. I’ll convince them to let me go soon enough or my body will burn from the inside out. Not sure what will happen first.

“Not to be rude, but why do you stay here?”

“You mean why did I stay and risk the pack?” I don’t hide the hate in my mouth. Just because I am not seven feet tall and act like everyone else doesn’t mean I have no right to live in the territory that’s my home. By no means do I want to be included in the pack, but I will find happiness alone at some point in the future.

Stark’s hands clamp together in front of him. “No. Why do you stay where people . . . well, hate your existence.”

“They don’t hate my existence.”

His eyebrows grow up.

Okay maybe they do.

“It’s my home. I love it here.”

“Even without Pratt, you’re planning to stay?”

My chest tightens, the burning sensation growing through my limbs as heat forms on the back of my neck. I need to cool off, but I can’t with him staring, knowing every emotion is on my face. Not wanting to answer, I slip off the couch and begin to walk away.

“Aloka, that’s not—”

But I drown him out and slam the bedroom door behind me. In seconds, I am in the shower, embracing my internal heat and letting my skin burn in pain. It feels good to be punished.

Pratt should have lived. If only he wasn’t so focused on my protection versus his own.

My fists bang into the stone, and I sink down onto my knees. Water rushes over and pools around me with my legs blocking the drain. I don’t want to be in Stark’s house; I want to be in my own with Pratt. Aches fold my chest over and the water doesn’t slow down. I let it fall; time goes by slowly.

When I finally move to stand, my legs have stone indents, and I rub them to make them fade away.

Despite someone knocking on the bedroom door, I make no attempt to go to answer. Lying on the bed with a soft, red, flannel blanket, pulled up over my head, I cry until the pillows are damp. Eventually, my brain lets me fall into a twitchy sleep.

I let another day pass by. The sun rises, and I watch it sink back behind the trees. Only one knock comes to the door at dinnertime, but I drown it out with rushing water in the shower.

Maybe if I fit in with humans, I would leave, but I don’t fit in anywhere. How can others tell me to go live with those who killed my own brother?

Sulking back into bed, I sleep away the thoughts.

At the end of the next day, a knock comes at the door, more hesitant this time.

“Aloka?” Jocko says.

I swing my legs off the bed and make my way to the door. Twisting the knob, I pull it open. Jocko looks at me, then turns away. I glance down and see the top of my bra sticking out. I shift my shirt up, though I couldn’t care less if Jocko sees my bra.

“Oh, um, we were wondering if you want to join us for dinner.” His face drops when he finally looks up at mine. I know my eyes are purple-rimmed from rubbing them as I cried.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“It’s just me, Hudry, Graden, and Stark this time.”

Less people. The surprise crosses my face, and he smiles.