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Ava squeezes me tight before letting go and my mother clutches my face, her eyes filled with tears.
“You can do this. You will be alright,” she says, her face lined with worry; she knows with how small my wolf is that I will suffer if anyone comes for me. She knows I will not be able to protect myself.
If they knew my mate had also tossed me aside, they would realize I'm basically as good as dead. Without my mate, I will slowly deteriorate until there is nothing left. I won’t be able to shift, and I'll practically be human. Once that happens, it's basically the end for me.
“Are you telling yourself or me that?” I ask her.
Her brows furrow; she knows there is nothing out there for me and my son. We are rogue, and nothing good ever happens to rogues; we merely exist among the packs, surviving day to day, praying we don't get picked off by bigger prey because, at the end of the day, no pack would intervene for a rogue, even if they have a child.
ChapterEight
Ihave to hold my son on my lap in the back as the taxi driver takes us to the train station where my car is. We pass a rundown hotel on the way and I think I may have just enough fuel to get my car there. Hopefully, I do. After spending the entire night in the rain, I want a hot shower and something warm in my belly, but most of all, I want the safety of four walls, even if it's only for one night.
I tell myself that one night is all I need, then I can suck it up and figure something out. I hand the taxi driver some cash from the wad my father gave me and watch him go. I have no idea how much my sister snuck into the bag.
Getting my keys from the diaper bag, I unlock my car and climb in, pulling the hatchback down before I realize I no longer have a car seat.
Shit!I think, knowing how long I saved for that car seat. I open the bag and empty my pockets after placing my son in his box bed. My father gave me $525. I snort.Gee, thanks, Dad,I think to myself. At least it will buy roughly 16 cans of formula and four boxes of diapers, so it will keep me out of trouble for a while.
Opening the bag my sister packed for me, I find feminine products, hair products, makeup; even some black slacks, a blouse, and some black flats. I'm assuming she placed them here if I manage to get a job interview. I also find her old touchscreen phone and a charger before finding an envelope. Opening it, I pull out a stack of $100 bills. I feel a lump form in my throat; she gave me everything she had.
I know she did. There is nearly eight thousand dollars in the envelope. She gave me all her savings.
I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Turning the envelope over, I see her neat handwriting.
'You can do this. I love you.'
I nod at her words. She's right. I can do this; I can because I have no choice. I will make it work.
After packing up some clothes and refilling the diaper bag, I pack a little bit of food to eat later before changing Valarian. Once he's dressed with a fresh diaper on, I grab my umbrella and toss my bag over my shoulder along with the baby bag, then scoop up my son.
Without a car seat, driving is impossible, so after locking my car, I start walking, deciding to head to the rundown hotel I saw earlier. I wonder how I never noticed it before. Just for one night, I could pretend I'm normal. After that decent shower the other night—before being tossed aside by my mate and son's father—I now long for a tiny piece of normal; some dignity, a chance to feel human, even if itisonly one night.
The rain has nearly stopped when I reach the two-story rectangular building—Mountainview Hotel. It has peeling paint and the gardens are overgrown; the sign out the front hangs down, and the neon lights flicker as they struggle to remain on; the lines in the parking lot are faded and the hotel numbers on the door are barely visible. At the office, a woman is sitting on a chair out front with a cigarette between her fingers. When I push on the door, the bell sounds and the woman smoking out front speaks.
“I'll be with you in a second; just let me finish this,” she says, holding up her cigarette. She stares at me, watching me, her eyes roaming over my appearance before stopping at my son in my arms.
“He's yours?” she asks. I nod, looking down at him and tucking him closer.
“The father?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Not your mate's?” she asks. I feel tears burn my eyes at her words. I don't know what to say to that.
“He is your mate's, so why are you here?” she asks curiously, pointing to the chair beside her.
She leans over to look at Valarian, taking a closer look at him. She appears to be in her fifties with dark hair cut to her shoulders, her nose pierced, heavy eye makeup, looking comfortable in a tank top and jeans.
“He has strange eyes; reminds me of someone I used to know; amber eyes are usually a family trait. Not many wolves in Mountainview City with eyes like that,” she says. “So, the blood Alpha is your mate and his father?” she asks, clearly putting two and two together. I guess Alpha Valen is known for his electric amber eyes. Shocked, I just look at her. She smiles and nods when I say nothing.
“Powerful family, so why aren't you with your mate?”
“He didn't recognize me and kicked me off pack land before I could tell him about his son,” I admit.
“And your family?” she asks. I fall silent, and she nods once before speaking, “My parents thought I was a rogue whore too. Funny how things happen.”
“So, you have a child?” I ask her, feeling an immediate connection between us.
“Had a child, his father took him.”
