Calli

I forced my tired, heavy limbs out of the bed and onto the cold hard wood floor. I stumbled a little, but forced myself upright. I didn't know where in the house my guard was, but I did not want to alert him that I was on the move. I glanced out the window to see that it was dark. I knew it was cold just from earlier in the day, but for some reason the snow covered earth looked even more freezing tonight. Almost as if it knew the horrid events of the day and was reacting accordingly.

I took a few shuffling steps until my feet decided to cooperate with me finally. I padded as gently into our closet as I could and layered leggings under jeans, a tank top under a t-shirt under a sweater covered by a jacket. I didn't want to risk grabbing my coat on my way out the door. I knew if my guard realized my plan, they would stop me and Layla would die.

I couldn't let that happen.

I open the nightstand and see a silver handgun glinting at me in the moonlight streaming through my window. Finn had gotten it for me, supplied me with silver bullets and taught me how to shoot it in case I needed to protect myself.

I don't think this is what he had in mind.

I grew up around guns, knew how to use them and proper safety protocols, but looking at this deadly machine knowing that I would use it if I needed to, scared me to my core. I pick the gun up gingerly, almost as if jostling it will make it go off, and tuck it into my bag. I go to close the drawer, but think better of it and grab the extra ammunition and shove it into my bag as well.

Better to be safe than sorry.

I slip back into the closet and don a pair of heavy boots and begin to search for another weapon. I open a box on one of the higher shelves and see a glittering object in the bottom.

A dagger.

The one Ian used at our mating and my beta ceremony. How ironic something I once deemed precious now seems tarnished and tinged with bitterness. Remembering Finn's words that night and every other time he made me promises. That we would be a team, that he trusted me above everyone.

That I would never regret loving him.

Even though I don't, I'm not sure I ever could, the way he dismissed me so easily goes to show that a mate bond alone cannot form a strong relationship. You still need time, honesty and trust. Something I'm not sure Finn will ever earn back.

I grab the dagger and shove it in my bag as well. Even though I know it's not silver, it's still better than nothing.

I take a few deep breaths to steady myself and calm my erratically beating heart before I slip out of our room and slink towards the stairs. I take them slowly, avoiding the ones I know creak, and look around the main floor when I reach the bottom.

I see a head of dark hair laying on the back of the sofa with the TV blaring in front of it. I'm looking at the back of him and still, waiting for some kind of motion. I hear a loud snore that causes me to startle, and nearly laugh at the fact that my guard is sleeping. I make a mental note to have a conversation with Finn about that later and sneak to the back door, still staying as quiet as possible. Even if he is asleep, there's no guarantee he won't wake at even the smallest sound. I have learned that the wolves in this pack are very well trained and the guards are trained the hardest. I'm starting to sweat now from all of my layers and I know I need to hurry outside or the moisture could risk me developing hypothermia. I have no idea how far I'll need to walk due to snow build up when I get there.

I pick up Finn's keys and slip out the front door, closing it quietly behind me. I opt to take Finn's SUV, since it can get around better on slick roads. It's also already in the driveway so I don't have to risk the noisy garage door opening. I get in and decide to take the time to let it warm up. The heat from the engine helps to still my nerves as well as melts the snow that has accumulated on the windshield. The last thing I need is to get into an accident on my rescue mission.

Once the windshield clears and my hands are warm and clammy again, I decide I can't delay this any longer. Sure I could go back in the house and let Finn handle it like he said, but I would never forgive myself. Even the thought makes my stomach roil and that's all the incentive I need to put the car in reverse before I start the trek to my destination.

I go as quickly as I can while still being safe on what I would normally consider treacherous roads. I've always hated driving in adverse weather and it seems like an even worse idea when my nerves are completely shot and I have just woken up from a drug induced nap.

Maybe I didn't think this through.

Oh well. Too late now.

I still remember the route to the little cabin clearly. It's hard to forget when you relive the memory in nightmares over and over again. It feels like only a moment, but also an eternity ny the time I pass the little cafe where I stopped to get help that fateful night. I always promised myself I would leave that memory in the past, where it belonged. That I wouldn't allow what happened to me define me.

Even now after years of never laying eyes on the place, just the silhouette of the small eatery makes my palms sweat and my body begin to shake. I force myself to breathe.

In. Out. Slowly.

I can't afford a panic attack right now.

Layla needs me.

I hit a patch of ice as I pass the cafe and fishtail, I force myself to slow down as much as possible and watch carefully for the turn I know is hidden by large trees. Luckily my headlights hit the snow just right and I find it.

I also find tire tracks slightly leveled out by snow.

Someone has been here. Recently.

The confirmation of my suspicion makes my heart drop and I don't even bother trying to quell the shaking in my hands. I knew this is where he brought her. I could feel it from the moment he told me he would do the same thing to her that he did to me.

I gulp down the bile rising in my throat as I flip the SUV into four wheel drive and take the steep climb towards the hill top where I know I will find a picturesque log cabin with a stone chimney that looks over a valley of wheat and sunflowers in nicer weather.

What an odd juxtaposition for the horrors that happen inside that little cabin.

I promised myself I would never come back here. That I would never torture myself by reliving those moments. Some people told me they thought it would help, that it would be a form of closure.

They were wrong.

I force the vehicle to climb higher and higher until the cabin comes into view. The lights are on and a thin whisp of smoke paints the sky as it curls out of the chimney. I turn off the headlights and cut the engine about one hundred and fifty yards from the idealic wrap around porch. The swing I was so taken with the first time I was here gently swaying in the breeze.

I climb out of the car, but don't shut the door. I'm too scared that the sound will alert him to my presence and I will lose the element of surprise.

I take a moment to reach in my bag and find the gun. I flip the safety back and forth to familiarize myself with it in case I need to flip the switch in a hurry. I take a moment to breathe in the cold air, allowing it to sanitize my lungs.

This is it.

The moment where I go from being a flight girl to a fight girl.

I start my trudge towards the house, knowing there's little I can do to muffle the sounds of snow crunching under my feet.

For a moment I marvel at the silence, how my movements are the only ones I can hear for miles in the still, quiet and what would normally be considered a peaceful night.

That's when I hear it. Splitting through the silence like a hot knife.

Layla's scream.