The Run To Quinn

~•8•~

The pack house was a mansion like place that nearly all packs had. It encompassed nearly forty percent of all people from a pack, mostly the newly shifted and mateless wolves.

His mother was absolutely glowing as she looked around her home, her eyes alight with pride.

We took a turn and I found myself staring at the walls, my mouth gaped open. "How many siblings did you say you had?" I asked Seb.

He smirked at me. "Four," he said. "Not all of these photos are of my family. My mom hangs up any photos that people give her. Clark and Clare weren't kidding when they said this place was a lot of people's second home."

I took a deep breath and smelled all of the different scents the house had— too many to count. It was a welcome feeling.

We took a right and then another right and ended up in a room that was nearly all white. A black couch was pushed up against the wall, but other than that, the rest of the furniture was the color of the moon.

A white gurney-like thing was in the middle of the room, machines surrounding it. The floor was tiled and it smelled like bleach, same as the walls.

"This is my makeshift doctor's office. I'm the pack sniffer, but my hands work good too," Kimberly smiled. "Why don't you hop up here and I'll try and get you bandaged up."

I moved onto the gurney-thing and sat there with my palms facing up on my lap. They were bad. The pain might've numbed down a little bit and I certainly had healed some, but seeing them made everything rush back.

My Luna, my old Luna, was chained to the ground. Maggie could only watch Matt get murdered as she sat there— helpless.

"Are you okay, Quinn?" Kimberly shot her son a worried look.

I blinked a couple of times before looking up at them. "Yeah, totally, I'm fine," I said.

One of Kim's eyebrows came up a little and she took a step back, studying me. "Cariña, you can tell us anything. Us Vivancos keep our mouths shut when it comes to secrets, right Sebastián?"

Seb was not paying attention. Instead, he was looking down at his own hands in disappointment.

"Seb?" His mom clapped.

He shot his head. "Yes," he responded. I wasn't sure he actually heard the question but his mom didn't seem to care.

"See," she pointed out. "If you're not ready to talk that's okay, but we're here."

Mother of the year award goes to Kimberly Vivanco. I thought of my own who was home alone, probably helping pick up the pieces of my pack. I needed to talk to her soon, to check up on her.

"Thank you," I offered a small smile in gratitude.

Kimberly grabbed a black bottle and popped the lid open. "This may burn." She winced and the pain began.

The liquid she poured over my hands made me feel the initial pain ten times over, burning and scarring. Bubbles moved through my skin and when Kimberly used a gauze like napkin to clean over my hands and wipe away dirt and dead skin, pus and blood came back with it.