𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐲

TWENTY- EIGHT: A Chance At Redemption

[continued]

My heart forcibly raced, thrumming a heavy beat against my chest deeper and faster. Nerves in my entire body spiralled with thorn-veiled desperation and prayer-earned determination as my feet worked to cover the distance between Brady and me. He was much further and flanked by an army of the Delta soldiers and armed best friends that hated me.

Still, I moved away from what could be my salvation with Jenna towards the uncertainty of Brady's chance on me.

"Malik!"

I slowed but didn't stop.

"This is a one-time offer." Her voice was tough with poisonous demand. "Take one more step away from me and it expires."

I hesitated, slowing down even more to feel and consider the moment with bitter hate. Tears burned my eyes, my heart felt torn and sore. With no conclusion contemplated yet, I shook my head, watching Brady's retreating form as it became smaller and smaller. Far and further away from me.

"Your pride is the only thing that's left of you and you want to give it away?" As if she was teetering on her own misery and projecting, she doubled down on her threat. This time with concern reflected in her voice, soft enough to sway me back. "Men like my nephew never change. He will invite himself to your bed. He may even be kind to you, but he will never love you. There was a time you understood that."

There was.

"What happened?"

My teeth dug into my bottom lip, hands grabbing fistfuls of my own hair, my eyes closed short enough for me to make a decision. 

"Malik. No! Come here." Her voice was limpid with fiery fear and her hand shook with dark impatience.

I shook my head and turned to run after him.

Around me, the crowd was a worse noise than Jenna's threats of objection behind me were. Growls and howls from werewolves around me were worse with shaming insults than the coven girls shaking their heads at me from the front row. From all corners, they were whispering about me behind hands with sneering pity, evinced in the shallow but mild drop of their jaws and expressive eyes. But I didn't even care or feel any of the humiliation or doubt I should have.

"The phuck you running after." Someone in the loud crowd of werewolves screamed.

Someone else agreed, "Fuckin' disgrace tsk."

"Brady," My only concern was reaching the figure that was seconds from disappearing from my view forever. "Brady!" 

Everyone could tell he'd discounted me. It was so distressing and well warranted. Tears heated their way down my face, and I gave another attempt when he herded the last corner. "Brady!" My throat was barren, as though laminated by sandpaper

"Brady! Please," tears sprang and ran free from my eyes. Hair sprouted on my arms and I could feel my ears ringing as loud as I could hear the blood in my veins rushing. My core turned heavy, hot like lava and rose with something I couldn't spare a second to note in full. All I know is whatever was going on inside my body felt a lot like the pains before my first shift when I was a pup. I was in pain but watching Brady ignore me felt like I had death's grip on my windpipe. So panic overrode the pain my body was under and had me begging with the short thread of life I still had left. "Brady! Please." 

He was literally seconds away from leaving my line of vision.

The commotion from the crowd was disgusted with me but eager to see me embarrassed further. It got rowdier the cheers inciting Tyler to look back. Through the fog of tears, I met gazes with him and I tried to point at Brady but guard soldiers took hold of my flailing arms and gripped me from the chest tightly.