Chapter 3: Her Privileged Troubles
"I'll wait for you," Jer added to the theatrics and the pack members pitied him. He was, to them, an unfortunate man, mated to the one woman who had killed her own mother. They wanted to hug him and some did.
They consoled him, as his mate reached the clog of penance. They tried to make him feel better, but the only question that remained in the air was whether Jer was heartbroken for the sake of his mate, or if this was just one of the obstacles that fate had thankfully eliminated from his way.
The pack was quiet as Awuor walked away on the clog of penance. They watched her walk on the firestones like she was walking on a beautiful soft carpet. Her sandals were on both her hands and her bloodied crown was still on her head, sitting pretty.
Her tattered clothes were still bloodied and as she walked on the Firestones, some part of the fabric caught fire, but she just walked on right ahead, without even taking one last glance at what she was born into and had grown up in.
When she reached the end, she kept walking away while her people watched in wonder.
They had expected her to turn back and give them a last look, but the woman didn't. She didn't even bother saying anything, maybe because she knew they had made up their minds.
'Stay safe, my love,' Jer said to Awuor in the mind link they shared. He wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. Not with the pile of evidence on her. He didn't want to break his own heart. And once again, his mate didn't utter a word. Instead, she shut her mind links.
All of them.
The links that bound her to her mate, her family and her people. She blocked them all. If they wanted her to be the alpha of nothing, then she didn't want to hear their voices or cries or whatever they had in mind.
They had judged her without giving her a chance to explain herself. They had forced her away when there was a chance that she wasn't even the real culprit. But she was done fighting them. She was only thankful that she was an alpha wolf, because that meant she could handle herself.
However, how long would she be able to take care of herself before the world came crashing down on her?
How long before the loneliness broke her, and how long would she have to wait to redeem herself?
"Goodbye, Sicario," Awuor said as she crossed the last of boundaries that linked her with home. She walked a few miles in the thick forest before she came to a stop.
The rejected alpha sniffed around the place she was, in a bid to make sure that no one was around her. She wanted to break down, but she couldn't afford to have someone looking at her. She didn't want anyone's pity.
She didn't want to look weak, besides, she had managed to walk from home and on the firestones without flinching. That shit hurt like a bitch, but Awuor had been determined to prove to them that she didn't feel anything. It was the only way she knew of.
She knew if they thought of her as weak, they would trample on her even more.
When she was done sniffing, she could finally relax, because there was no other scent other than hers. The lonely alpha who had no one and nothing. The girl who was tasked with everything but with zero resources.
She hated what had happened to her and wanted to go back and tell them she hadn't done anything to her mother. However here and now, alone and without any source of support, the rejected alpha could finally breathe and be herself.
She finally let her tears flow, and let herself feel the pain. She remembered her mother's neck which had been brutally ripped. She remembered her claws retracting, right at the time that her brother and mate walked it on her.
It was all too quick to be a coincidence, but she couldn't even defend herself. Their faces haunted her. The disappointment, the disbelief, and the shock that she had gotten into from what had happened.
She couldn't recall anything after the gym, but she knew that she hadn't been the one to murder her mother. She loved the woman so much that sometimes, she thought it would have been better if her mother was her soulmate. Granted it was impossible, but she loved her so much.
Awuor thought of the disdain on her father's face, the raw pain, and clear disappointment. Her father had never once looked at her like he had today, and that too with the whole of the Sicario pack watching.
It was all so new for her.
The rejected alpha let herself mourn her people, her mother, and the loss of the bonds that were meant to keep her sane. She mourned her situation and more than anything, she wished she could go back in time and see for herself what had happened.
"Ouch," she let out when she tried to get the rocks from under her feet. She had blisters that looked so ugly. They were probably infected, thanks to her bravery earlier.
She should have put on her sandals the moment she walked out of Sicario, but her hard-headed nature got her thinking that they would still be watching her. She wanted to prove to them that she was brave enough and now her legs hurt so bad.
"So much for being brave, aah!" Awuor cried out in pain when she removed the stones from her legs. She had to have been crazy for what she had done, and weirdly enough, she already knew it.
Slowly she nursed her legs, even though she had torn her clothes and bandaged her feet. It was a rough setup, but that would help her while she waited for her werewolf abilities to kick in.
Meanwhile, she needed to rest. Her head was throbbing so bad she felt like her brains would pop out any moment, not to mention, she could feel herself come down with a fever.
"Great, just perfect timing to be a reject and a pained one. Dammit," Awuor cursed herself as he tried to force her eyes closed. She wasn't worried about anyone finding her here. The forest was meant for the Republic, so there was a chance that the rogues would be the first ones to find her.
The ferals were dangerous, but she wasn't worried about them. She just needed some damned rest before she picked herself up and decided on what she would do with the rest of her rejected life.
After struggling for a few hours, she finally began to get some rest, but annoyingly, there were birds and animals of the night that wouldn't let her be. They were too noisy and she hated it. She was tempted to get up and beat them up, but it was her who was intruding in their space.
"If only I hadn't apparently killed my mother, I'd be in my bed right now, damn," Awuor sighed defeatedly as she stared at the moon. Night had already kicked in and it seemed like the moon was so determined to shine on her face.
Was she really not going to have even an hour's peace here?