Rouge's Trail

XXXIV

November's POV

Children can be fun for a while but when push comes to shove, there's nothing better than a cold beer and a nice sunset. I spent the whole day avoiding Sophia's questions about her sister and thinking of a nice way to tell her that her chance of ever seeing her again was slimming by the minute and she had already lost way too many of those for hope to even be a factor.

I wish I had more hope for Lucas and Ajax and Isabella, I do, but I can't. The only wish I have is that Sophia took a wrong turn and that Lucas and Ajax had painless deaths.

It's the only realistic thing to think here.

The hilltop that I was sat on was chillier than expected, but it was getting later than I had thought. I watched the cute little village of freed rouges running around with each other and living their dream come true. I saw Sophia talking with Christian and a few others that he seemed to know well. I wasn't wrong about my observations when it comes to him. He had his arm wrapped around her, hand placed firmly on her lower back. She didn't seem to notice or mind. She looked happy.

"Hey," I heard a voice say behind me followed by rustling of grass when Thomas sat down next to me, his huge form folding to half it's size.

"Hey."

"She seems to like it here."

"It's crazy how this place is bringing out a whole new side of her. Maybe it's just being away from her sister but Sophia seems so much brighter here."

"It's the freedom."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged. I didn't really feel quite as free as she seemed. "How long are you staying here? Aren't you supposed to watch over Lucas?"

"I'm waiting for him to come here. Then I go back to my pack."

"You'll be waiting for a while," I muttered before taking a long drink of my beer.

Something about the way he looked at me when I said that told me he already knew.

"What do you know about the wolves that we were running from?"

Thoughts of Cyrus filled my head. Memories of Russian screaming and dark hallways and pain and-

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be like that. Ever since you heard that howl you've been off. Less... impish. Coy. Tell me about those wolves."

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I drank the last of my beer and handed him the empty bottle. He looked at me in confusion before his eyes widened when I pulled my shirt up a little and my pants down so he could see the scar that stretched from roughly 5 inches below my armpit curling down to my panties. It was deep and grotesque but it's one of the only physical scars they left on me.

"Don't say anything," I told him when he opened his mouth," I know you didn't notice it when we were shifting. I didn't want anyone to make a big deal out of it."

"How old were you?"

"I was like 14, younger. We weren't exactly given calendars."

"Where?"

"The Zasnezhennoye Pole pack, where me and Alexia came from. "

"Whose Alexia?"

"She was my best friend," I looked away from him," she's also the first person I killed."

He didn't say anything, which was a relief in it's own right. Alexia is a memory I didn't really want to edge on at this particular moment. Thinking about her sweet, gentle face shutting down and turning away from life and that last flutter of those pale hands that held my own so many times through out our lives in the pack. 

How many tears did she wipe from my eyes?

How many nights did she stay awake much longer than she should have just to calm me after I'd been with him?

How many nightmares did she stop before I was swallowed by the darkness?

Thomas is a kind man, I thought with a small smile. It will be very painful when he inevitably returns to his pack and goes back to being a true wolf- an Alpha- and leaves us Rouges here to be. 

"You should get some rest, November. I have faith that Lucas will come back soon and when he does you're going to have a lot of explaining to do. Least of it being that scar," he smiled a tiny little frown and put a gentle hand on the top of my head," or that one."

"I'll go to bed soon."

"Night, November."

He stood up and turned to walk away,  my empty beer in hand. I didn't take my eyes off the Easter basket of colors that held the  horizon when I called out to him for one last thing.

"You can call me Nika."

I never turned around to look at his reaction but I could feel the change in the mood. All I did hear was his next words;

"Goodnight, Nika."

He walked away and this time I absolutely refused to turn around. Hearing my true name like that had called up a few emotions I had absolutely no intention to ever feel again. 

I had to remind myself again that big girls don't cry.