Chapter 47: Colton
“Are you okay, my dear?” The doctors voice waves at me from what seems like a very distant distance
away and I realize how in my own head I’ve drifted in my state of numb. We’re still rumbling along this
dark makeshift path, carved through the dense forest, and I was so zoned out in my own mind I
completely faded to dark. My cheeks are damp with the tears that sprung out of me and I’m staring
blankly ahead, in a state of disconnect, ahead, like everyone I know suddenly died a horrible death,
again, and I had to watch.
“I can’t be one of those…. those…. creatures. They killed everyone in the orphanage.” It’s a soft, pitiful
whispering tone, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. My head so full of confusion, pain, and
questions, and I keep picturing Colton’s face, his dimpled smile, and those deep dark sexy eyes, and
what he’s going to think when he finds out… Meadow, the sub pack. How will they look at me now?
I’m the enemy, and I’ve been among them this whole time.
“Alora. Those beings were not always the blood thirsty wolf murderers you view them as now. Vampires
serve a purpose in the grand scheme of things too, and their kind has as much validity as the wolves.
There are those among them, much like your kind, who are peaceful and land loving as some of the
wolves are, they don’t even hunt humans and very much never wanted for the battles and wars to
happen. A feud so ridiculous the history books fail to record it properly, and no one really knows why
the species raged a war against one another in the first place. It’s a forgotten cause. You are not a
creature, and this does not change who you are inside. You are the same fearless girl sat before me
that you were ten minutes ago.”
I break down and sob, falling forward to cradle my face in my palms and try so desperately to catch my
breath, to calm the storm of feelings hitting me hard and twisting me up inside. It isn’t fair, and why do I
get to be so lumbered with every kind of bullshit the fates can throw at me. What did I do to deserve
any of this?
“They won’t see it that way. Don’t you understand?” I sit up snapping to face him with fresh tears rolling
down my face, dripping from my chin as my heart breaks all over again. Soul ripped wide open. “The
pack can’t ever accept me if they know, and Colton …. He’ll be disgusted with what I am. He fought
them, he killed, and survived that war too…. He hates them with a passion that’s unmatched.” That
much was obvious when he ripped the head off the one who had me in its clutches and threw it high
over the orphanage wall. I feel nauseous even trying to conjure up how he’s going to react, or even
how he’s going to look at me. I can’t bear to pull him into my head and see his face change from that
cute boy, cheeky happy, into something hateful and Deacon-like. Seeing me as some crude mash up of
vile parts. Disgusted by my existence.
“Dear girl, you said the boy imprinted on you. That means you share the purest kind of love there is, so
special, and I’m sure that means he’ll accept it as part of who you are., especially if he takes after
Sierra. It doesn’t define you… you are that same girl. Besides, he has to figure out he’s half witch and I
know from wolf lore that’s as bad and he might have to get over that with a little more effort than your
news.” The doctor shrugs at that as if to point out Colton will probably have bigger issues, and I shake
my head at him.
“Why me?” It’s not really a real question, more of a verbal despair and I sink back against my seat,
lifting my head to stare at the ceiling above us, and try so hard to pull myself together. Sniffing back the
emotional break down to stop crying like a vulnerable idiot. None of this is going to help our current
situation, and as much as I want to scream and rip that part out of me, I need to put it aside and focus
on the now and our bigger issue.
We’re in need of protection and I need to link Colton to get it. I don’t even know what to say to him, or
how, especially now with this foremost in my head. Scared about how that’s going to go, and I don’t
even know if the link will work. Or that he hasn’t blocked me on his end too.
“Maybe because you’re important and being part vampire gives you something that adds to the
prophecy. Your fates always have a reason, isn’t that what your kind say… maybe there’s a reason you
are that, and Colton is half witch. Imagine the tribrids to come from your union. Your children will be
three strong species, combined, if your body allows them to come to fruition. That’s simply mind
blowing. I don’t think there’s ever been such a breed.” The tinge of excitement in his voice inevitably
pushes that knife he’s stabbing me in the heart with a whole lot deeper.
“There’s going to be no children and no god damn union! Colton marked another, so that part is over!” I
snap it, alarmingly hostile, sitting up poker straight to glare at him as that extra searing pain rips
through my chest at a speed of noughts. Reminding me of all the reasons I was mad as hell at that
asshole in the first place, and why I haven’t reached out to him since I left.
Screw you Colton. You weak ass daddy’s boy who should have just manned the fuck up and realized
this was bigger than us! I was the one, not her. How could you?
I don’t really mean it, well almost not fully, but I’m still completely devastated that he betrayed our bond.
No matter the reason. Even if it was justified in the grand scheme of things. I don’t think I can ever
forgive him for wounding me in this way and destroying what was meant to be a perfect union.
“Oh dear. Are you quite sure he ma….”
“Yes, quite sure!” I snap, mimicking his English accent haughtily and cutting him off. Like I wouldn’t
know that pain hitting me in the chest and almost killing me that day and what it was. Have still not
recovered fully and carry that weight constantly like a heavy shroud to eternally remind me I’ll love
someone I can never have. He’s riling a very tender and open wound and it’s doing nothing for my
“I see. So, if he has another, how do you know you can…?” he gestures at his temple, locking eyes on
mine, making circular motions and implying mind link. I roll my eyes. Exhaling to curb this sudden need
to punch things and getting rattier by the second, tension rising, making me all sorts of stiff and uptight.
“I don’t, I have to hope.” Snarking at him, gritting my teeth, mood getting sensitive with the current topic
of conversation. I know it’s a genuine concern, given that Colton is key to us getting out of this and
surviving, it’s just, I’m scared to try now, while everything is so new and raw. I’m out here and all of this
has smacked me in the face at once. Add that to the gaping gash of heartbreak he rubbed salt into, and
you have one completely irate girl who isn’t pulling herself together as quickly as her life is unravelling.
“Then maybe you should, you know….?” Again, with the rotating finger at his temple and I huff loudly in
exasperation, willing him to stop pushing and give me an ever-loving, god damn, breathing space, of a
minute. This is hard for me. I erupt, breaking under the pressure. Spectacularly.
“YES! I KNOW!! I’m going to do it! … Excuse me for having a little bit of a mental breakdown with
everything I’ve learned in the last six hours and a reminder my fated mate is a cheating asshole. It’s a
lot…. A LOT!!! And I’m an eighteen-year-old girl who hasn’t linked her cheating, asshole ex, so called
mate, in weeks, since she ran from him. Give me a fucking break already.” I push my fingers and nails
through my scalp, pushing my wild hair off my face and gripping it with force at my temples, trying so
hard not to self-combust under the extra weight of everything hitting me at once.
“I do say.” The doctor raises his brows at me in a completely ridiculous British way, and then softens his
expression and holds out his handkerchief to me in a sort of white flag apology, as more tears roll down
my cheeks against my will. Colton always ruins me. I hate that I’m so hopelessly connected to him, that
this rules everything I think or feel.
“I’m sorry…. I need to breathe for a few minutes. Colton he’s……. it’s really hard. He hurt me… this, all
of this, just hurts.”
Colton is the one thing in my life that has the power over everything else to screw me up with minimal
effort. Even finding out I’m some sort of half creature, and my first thought was ‘how will he look at me?’
He’s right in there, deep inside of me, and he can make everything feel so good, or everything worse
than bad, that I can barely breathe. Without him I survive, but I wouldn’t exactly call it successful.
There’s a need that never leaves me, a longing that never stops calling to him. I miss him, of course I
do, and I dream about him, I see, or hear him at stupid points of my day, even when it’s not even
related. Reaching out and physically connecting is a whole other kind of torture, especially knowing
he’s not mine and never will be now. It was easier to have no contact at all.
I never knew you could both love a person beyond a shadow of a doubt and crave them constantly,
while at the same time hating the ground he walks on and wishing I never had to see him ever again.
Such is my dilemma.
I need him, yet I don’t want to, and currently I actually physically need him to come and save our asses
from this situation. The doc was right, I can’t take on a pack of Santo wolves, especially ones who don’t
play fair and use dart guns to subdue my kind. My gifts are worth shit without having the complete
control of them. Colton needs to be in this, no matter how I feel, as Sierra is his mother, and I owe him
to give her back to him, where she belongs. He can protect her in ways her own pack failed. Her son
will never let her down in that way.
“You can have some time; this road is a good long drive to get out of the undergrowth and by my
calculations we have three hours minimum, depending on the metabolism of the wolves before they
come around in any kind of way. I’m hoping for six, which is probably a human response to the drug,
but your kind are always a little more geared to outdoing us, even in an isolation tank. You can take a
little head space before you contact him. Just, you know, not too long, as we don’t want to be driving in
the wrong direction, or anything.”
The doctor isn’t helping and I turn and stare out the window, watching the trees flash by in the hopes it
will numb my brain out with mindless mesmerizing images flashing on by, the light fading with every
minute we drive and Sierra is still as immobile and silent as she was.
I need to swallow this, bite the bullet and do it. Like ripping off a band aid, and not sitting pondering and
building the moment into something worse. He’s out there, doing god knows what, and the sooner I link
him, or even see if I can, the sooner we can figure this out and head for a safe place and all of this no
longer rests on my shoulders alone. Some control of this situation, someone else to make the
decisions, and I hope to god I’m not being a fool and putting my faith in Colton, only to have him deliver
us back to Juan’s hands. I truly believe in my heart, despite everything that’s happened between us,
Colton will come through for me. For us.
This isn’t about marking, or obeying the alpha and respecting the laws, this is about his mom and
intervening in something bigger than the rules of the packs. This is about betrayal, and what his father
has done, and I literally have no idea about how I’m going to tell him. Once he knows, it’ll hurt him the
way it hurt me, irreversibly, and I have no idea how he’s going to react. It’s not the kind of thing you can
just rock up in his head and say, hey… I have your mom here, and your dad killed everyone I love, do
you want to hang out.
How do I tell him about the bigger picture, about my family, the prophecy, the way Sierra was kept and
has nothing mentally wrong with her? How do I fit all that in without having some sort of mental freak
out, while in a head link with a guy you have been so afraid of linking because of the unbearable pain
he can inflict on you? I didn’t only blank him out because I left, and we were done. I closed the door
because I couldn’t handle ever being able to link him again and hearing that familiar voice inside of me.
That soothing, husky, melody, that can find its way deep down into the most intimate parts of me and
warms me from within in the most basic ways. No one will ever be able to make me feel things the way
he does, and he has so much power over me, even with his words, at any distance.
Stop Alora. This is bigger than a broken heart. Colton will help, and you’re just stalling.
I catch the doc looking at me, eyes glancing from dark rough road to me, bouncing along this track, and
back again, but he says nothing. I think he’s checking on my mental and emotional state and I need to
get this over and done with. Stop wussing out, getting over dramatic with my female tear fest, and man
I inhale, sit up as though that makes any difference and push my forehead against the glass of my side
window. Fixing my eyes on nothing at all and drumming up the courage I so badly need. My insides
immediately start tying themselves in knots, my stomach cramping with the tension, and I swallow the
apprehensive nausea as best I can. I let my breath out slowly, misting the window with the heat and
condensation of the cold dark glass, and draw a heart absentmindedly in the steamy patch before
rubbing it out and frowning at my own stupid reflection. Now or never! Rip it off, bite the bullet. Be
I know if I stall, I might lose my nerve completely. I screw my eyes tight shut, conjure up a darkness to
clear my brain and mentally slide open that heavy locked door I put between us so many weeks ago.
Afraid of the sudden precipice I need to step off and I throw it out there in the hopes he’s listening.
Colton? Are you there? I need your help.
Please be there. God, I sound so pathetic and weak. I don’t get time to regret the break of silence, or to
feel any kind of anything about doing it. A paused breath and then….
Lorey? Is that really you? Baby… oh shit, baby, god. I can’t believe it’s you. It’s really you… you’re
really, ughhh shit.
There’s a second of pause and before I butt in with a response, he’s off again, quietening me with his
torrent of verbal diarrhea
Where are you? You have no idea how hard I’ve been trying to link you for weeks and couldn’t get
through… not that I blame you, and I know I hurt you, and you’re mad. I’m mad too… at me, not you.
I’m not in any way mad at you for leaving, so don’t think I am okay, because I’m not… Please, tell me
where you are… I’m an asshole, I know this… Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you coming back?
Please say that’s a yes, and that I didn’t completely screw all this up. And, umm yes, I’m here,
obviously… almost crashing my truck, but here. I was always here, waiting, hoping, and you know I’ll
always help you, that shouldn’t even be a request when it’s a given. God, I miss you, tell me what you
need. Tell me what to do. Say something.
The whoosh of babbling completely catches me off guard, and the tone, changing from relief, to
disbelief, to again relief, and sheer emotion, almost cripples me. He can’t hide any of it from his voice
and the surge of intense felling that comes with it tells me our link still exists, and I pick up on his even
through this form of communication. It chokes me up, the sheer obviousness that he’s really missed
me, and is as broken about my contact as I am. There’s no anger, complete overwhelm that he can
finally hear me in his head.
My initial response is to tear up, my throat closes tightly as if it’s going to choke me, and butterflies
escape within my stomach and go bashing around my insides, hitting every orifice and organ they can
fly at. Feeling the same as him, aching with the sudden waterfall of feelings I’ve been trying to fight for
Colton…. listen, I don’t want to do this over the link, but there’s a lot and …. for right now, we need
somewhere to go, and you need to be there too. Somewhere safe, because we’re going to have a pack
on our ass soon and I can’t fight them. There’s too many. For right now, I need you to tell me where to
go that we can meet, and for you to show up too, with enough of you to hold off some crazy mad
My hands are shaking with the ferocity of overwhelming pain I’m experiencing at being in his head and
having him in mine. The intimacy of it. It’s like the weeks apart drop away and it reminds me of
everything I miss the most about him. His voice, his overprotective need to take care of me, the way his
presence, even in my head alone, makes me feel suddenly safer, cherished, and he’s only making it
worse by saying everything I’ve wanted to hear. Why did he have to go be stupid and mark that bitch?
We? As in, you’re with someone else.
It’s the complete crumple of his tone and the hint of hurt that peeks through that shakes me out of my
rose-tinted stupor, and I know he thinks I might have found someone, as in, a mate. I don’t get why he
would jump to that conclusion, unless it’s guilt, because he knows what he’s done to us and I’m well
within my right to find a mate and say screw him. It’s not important, and it miffs me slightly that he
would veer to that little word as more important than the rest.
Yeah, WE. Look, he’s helping me, he’s a friend and WE need to go somewhere safe.
It seems to completely sober Colton up and I almost feel him draw back a little, the link falling silent for
a moment as he seems to disconnect and then comes back an agonizing long ass minute later. I guess
it’s a moment to pull his head together as jealousy eats him, but good, maybe it’s a little bit of karma
and he can feel an ounce of what I’ve been going through all this time. Let him be hurt and think there’s
someone else…. He deserves some pain. If he jumps to stupid conclusions on limited information, then
he can suffer.
Right. Where are you, I need to know so I can find you, or guide you.
It’s that all business tone of an alpha moving in, as logic prevails, and he sobers up with that whip in
the face. The babbling happy to hear from me dropping off to wounded male who’s trying not to sulk. I
know it’s hurt him, I can feel it radiating through, and as much as it pains me too, I’m not going to
correct him and tell him the WE, is a sixty odd year-old human, and his mom.
I turn to the doctor with a serious expression, head getting back to business and ignoring the fact my
legs have turned to Jell-O.