Run

SUMMER

Three weeks had passed.

Three weeks since she’d hatched her plan. Three weeks of anticipation, hope, and silent prayers for her moment to arrive.

Three weeks of enduring pain in silence, waiting for her chance to break free.

Sitting in the kitchen, cradling her coffee cup, she sighed. The latest bruise on her cheek from the previous night was almost healed. She knew she couldn’t endure this much longer.

She took a bite of her omelette and called out to her mate. “Todd, your breakfast is getting cold!”

When she got no response, she shrugged, relieved to have a moment of peace without her volatile mate.

She gasped as Todd burst out of the bedroom.

“I can’t eat now, babe. There’s a dispute at the border. Those rogues who caused trouble before are back.”

Summer managed a weak smile as he kissed her bruised cheek.

“Okay, be safe,” she said, her words a lie. For four years, she’d prayed that one of these times he wouldn’t return from a fight.

“Always.” He winked at her before rushing out the door.

This is it...

Summer sat still for a moment, praying he hadn’t forgotten anything and wouldn’t come back through the door.

After a few moments, she sprang from her chair, determination coursing through her.

She dashed to the garage, yanking open the door to the old fridge they used for extra storage. She dug through it, reaching past the food she’d stacked high to conceal her secret stash.

She grinned as she grabbed the bags of blood she’d swiped from the pack clinic a few weeks ago when Todd insisted they donate.

She’d feigned reluctance, claiming she hated needles, so he wouldn’t suspect anything when she left early, panicked.

She knew it was risky, but she also knew he’d never find them unless he suddenly decided to cook dinner, which was highly unlikely.

That was her duty as his mate, she thought, his voice echoing in her mind.

She grabbed the bags and dashed back inside, setting them on the counter before taking a deep breath.

She ran through each room of the house, overturning furniture and tearing cushions. She smashed chairs and mirrors and scattered everything on the floor.

Then she took the first blood bag and tore the corner, splattering blood all over the house until every bag but one was empty.

She surveyed the chaos she’d created, satisfied with the result.

“Looks like a rogue came through here,” she whispered to herself, stuffing the empty bags into the backpack slung over her shoulder.

Yeah, it does! Let’s go! Freya chimed in, excited.

Summer stood by the back door, holding the last bag. She poured the blood into a puddle on the floor, then slowly trailed it behind the house and into the woods.

She ran a distance, dropping a mix of her own blood and the stolen blood before deciding she’d gone far enough.

She retraced her steps back to the house, then shifted and ran in the opposite direction of her blood trail, her wolf racing through the woods with all her might.

“Just run,” she told herself, knowing she needed to move fast and cross the border before he returned.

She prayed the rogue dispute would last hours, that he wouldn’t return until she was long gone.

She sprinted through the woods, her heart pounding as she neared the boundary.

“We can make it...” she whispered, trying not to get her hopes up, knowing she could be caught again, just like the last two times.

“Just run,” she repeated, pushing herself forward even as fatigue began to set in after thirty minutes of running.

We’re almost there! her wolf shouted in their head as they picked up speed.

Her heart hammered in her chest, her body aflame with adrenaline and hope as they crossed the pack border, refusing to stop until she either died from exhaustion or got far enough away to never be found again.

At this point, either outcome was acceptable.

Hours later, Summer paused at a small creek in the forest, stopping only to drink and recharge before setting off again.

No matter how far she went, it would never be far enough.

As the day wore on and her exhaustion became harder to ignore, Summer alternated between running and walking.

Freya was only so strong, and their energy was dwindling as they raced through the trees, low branches whipping at them as they sprinted further from home.

We need to stop... Freya whimpered as they kept running.

"No!" Summer insisted. "We're not far enough! Keep going! We have to keep going!"

When the sun finally set and darkness enveloped the forest, Summer knew she couldn’t go on much longer.

She ran until her legs gave out and she collapsed, her exhaustion taking over.

She lay on the cold, hard ground, aching and tired as the adrenaline slowly wore off. She was starving, her stomach growling loudly as she lay there.

The night air was cool, and the dirt and leaves beneath her were cold. She breathed heavily, her panting gradually slowing as she calmed down.

Sleep claimed her almost immediately, her only protection the low branches of the tree beside her.

"We made it..." she whispered as she drifted off to sleep, succumbing to her exhaustion.