*WINNER of Best Cliche Breaker for Undiscovered Werewolves*
"Underneath her skin was a wolf; all bite and snarl and nothing else."
The day Saoirse de Rais made her Alpha submit is the day she decided to run.
Traveling from city to city--state to sta...
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This is a marriage of equals.
Bo was so much more than her equal. He was solace; he was hope. He was willing to walk on broken glass to keep her sane; while everyone else around her was willing to watch her fall, he did his best to help her rise. He was good. He was a righteous man that she didn't quite deserve.
Bo was worth hoping for a cure.
But the cure would never come. Even as she twisted the ring around her finger, repeating the vows over and over in her head, she knew that this was it. There would be no search—they'd never find the end of her suffering. Enzo was going to kill her. There was a bullet upstairs with her name on it, and there was nothing she could do to change it.
At least, she hoped Enzo would spare Bo.
Doherty needed an Alpha, and he was so much better than her. Enzo could take all the land that he wanted, but he had to spare their little cluster of trailers. He had to spare their home. They may hate her, but there were families and good people living there. They didn't deserve to be punished, too. Bo had to live to keep them safe, to keep them afloat.
Perhaps Enzo would listen to her last request.
She checked the watch on her wrist, growling beneath her breath. A few hours had passed since Bo spoke the vows, and each one felt like a decade. She wasn't sure why Enzo was waiting to kill them—he could have it over with in a few short minutes, but instead he chose to wait. The scare tactic was pointless when she already accepted that this was her last night alive.
She stared above at the ceiling. Once in a while, she'd hear someone walking just above her. The footsteps were heavy, some light, and she tried her best to count them each time. But it was hard to single them out—she just wanted a number. Though she had no intentions of taking them out, she wanted to at least know what they were up against.
She was surprised at how calm the wolf inside her was. Locked in a cage, she half expected to black out and wake up surrounded by dead bodies. But the wolf didn't budge—she supposed watching Bo getting beaten was enough to keep her away from the surface. But right now... right now she could use the help. Saoirse and the wolf had never been close. Not many werewolves could admit that their lupine self was more of a sentient being, but then again not many were wildlings, either.
Now you back down, she thought, angrily. Now you have your tail between your legs.
She closed her eyes, drawing in one deep breath. The wolf wasn't deep inside—she could feel its phantom breath in her head, but couldn't quite reach it. Saoirse knew it wasn't good to poke at it. She couldn't risk the toll on her mind if she shifted. It was different the last time. It was just four wolves against her, but she'd have to fight against a whole pack to escape. Even with Bo at her side, helping her, it would still be too much.
She might not come back.
She twisted the ring again. She couldn't risk losing it. She just had to let this happen. She had to die, and she had to hope that Enzo would let Bo go.
