Every time I went inside a public building like this though, my nerves were shot.

I felt certain my picture would be on even the human TV, and that I was being chased down by the FBI.

Murder.

Not just that, but child murder.

Seth, for all he was adult in nature, for all that he was a prick, and evil to boot, was a kid.

Just like me.

Maybe they’d take pity on me for being a minor too, but I doubted it.

I probably didn’t deserve any pity, but that didn’t mean I wanted to go to jail either. If I did, my mates would…

Mother, just the thought of being denied them for a lifetime as I served a Murder One charge made the pit of my stomach bottom out.

On the positive, however, it took away my hunger.

With a hand on the door handle, I stopped twisting the knob and stepped back instead. There was a gas station a block away according to my phone—the one luxury I had—and that would give me the sustenance I needed.

I was hitch-hiking home.

It wasn’t the smartest plan, but it was the only solution I had.

There was nowhere for me to go, and while I could slip into a massive city and become an anonymous sheep, that wasn’t entirely possible.

Leaving my mates behind wasn’t something I could do.

I’d failed in my duty to the Mother, but I couldn’t fail in my duty to them.

It was going to take me months to get up to Oregon from where I’d been in Florida, so I wasn’t rushing to get back, just slinking from town to town, city to city. I’d only just crossed the state line and it had been six weeks since Seth died.

Roughing it to sleep sucked but it was summer still, and it wouldn’t be too miserable. But as winter approached, I knew I’d need to start doing menial jobs to get some shelter, even if it was at a local YMCA.

Worry and fear made the rumbling disappear once and for all, and I knew, by the end of this, I’d probably have a fucking ulcer.

I deserved worse for what I’d done to Seth.

It didn’t matter that it was an accident.

His death wasn’t honorable.

His death went against a Goddess’ wishes…

Mother, maybe I shouldn’t return to my mates. If I did, what a shadow I’d be bringing with me. Why would they want me? Aside from the pull of the bond between us that, surely, they’d come to resent me?

I sucked my cheek in to gnaw on it as I trudged away from the packed diner from which the scents of meat were floating out of the open windows.

Not even my wolf was interested though. That was the extent of my anxiety.

As I made my way down to the gas station, I heard the slightest of noises. The tiniest.

Before Seth, I wouldn’t have even registered it. But once I’d become his protector, I’d had to get used to him offending people, to him earning their wrath. The bastard had gotten himself into so many fights with his shitty attitude that prior to his death, I’d been as battle ready then as I was now.

Wolf stirring, the beast ready to fight on my behalf even as I stayed in my human skin, I took note of that most gentle of scuffing sounds. It was a rubber heel rocking against a pebble, nothing that would incite anyone else, but I wasn’t just anyone, was I?

I was a fucking fugitive.

Thanks to a stupid quarrel.

My throat thickened with fear and nerves and regret and guilt. But for all that, there was no shame.

I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done.

Seth was horrible. Horrible people didn’t deserve to die, sure, but he took things to another level.

He was cruel, malicious. Took pleasure in hurting others.

If it weren’t for the fact that the Mother had made the request to protect him at my covenant, I wouldn’t feel so bad, would know that I’d actually done the world a favor.

One less Seth in the world was one less serial killer down the line—because that was Seth.

He had Ted Bundy Jr. written into his DNA.

“There’s no need to fret, child.” The whisper came from the shadows, but it wasn’t from the person whose shoe had scuffed the stone.

It was different.

Distant.

My mouth dropped open as I recognized something about the voice.

It was like—

No.

Surely she’d forsaken me?

I’d done the one thing she’d asked me not to do. I’d killed someone.

“Who’s there?” I rasped.

“My name is Claudette.”

This voice was unlike the dulcet murmur I’d just heard mere seconds ago, but if I’d been in my wolfskin, my hackles would be raised all the same.

Licking my lips, I asked, “What do you want?”

“To help you.”

“No one can help me.” My words contained a sneer, but more than that, they contained the truth. There were all kinds of sick fucks I’d met along the way from Florida to Louisiana, all wanting to help me because I was young and appeared defenseless.

But I wasn’t.

That was their mistake.

And more blood on my hands, my soul.

I gritted my teeth before I managed to grind out, “Leave me alone.”

“No, I was sent to find you. Sent to bring you into the fold.”

“What is this? A joke? If you’re from some freaky ass cult, you can just fuck off—”

She made a tsking sound as she stepped out of the shadows and into the light from a streetlamp.

When I saw how far away she was, my brows rose, and my head whipped around as I tried to figure out what was going on.

She was over five hundred feet away but her voice—and not the first whisper—had felt like her mouth was close to my ear.

She smiled, but it wasn’t malicious, and after Seth, I knew what a malicious smile looked like. If anything, it was…

I gulped.

Kind.

Was this a set up?

Was she a cop?

“I’m not a police officer,” she murmured, like I hadn’t just thought it, but asked it out loud.

“Who are you then?”

Hesitation had her mouth opening then closing, before she said, “Would you like to eat?” She gestured at the diner.

My head whipped to the side. “No. I can’t go in there.”

“With your hood up, no one can see your face,” she cajoled. “And you don’t look like you did back in Florida, Daniel. You’re safe while you look as unkempt as this.”

Tension filled me and I staggered back, stepping further and further away as I recognized she not only knew my name, where I’d been traveling from, but she’d known what I looked like before.

Who was this woman? My panicked mind flashed through the faces I remembered from the pack I’d just left, but I didn’t recall her and I’d made it my business to know each and every person by name.

When you had to negotiate for peace on behalf of a brat, knowing someone’s name was half the battle in earning the acceptance of an apology.

I didn’t know her though. Didn’t recognize her at all.

She was beautiful. Her corn rows were tight to her head, all along her skull, but they were thicker than usual, and they arched somewhat, making it look as though she was wearing a natural crown.

Her eyes were like chocolate, and I struggled, yet again, to see any cruelty in them. All I registered, however, was kindness.

More of that damn emotion that I couldn’t trust as much as I couldn’t trust wariness.