Chapter 9 Learning to Hide
Jolie POV
I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Ryder's face when he pinned Mara to the wall. The way his voice dropped to that dangerous whisper. The way everyone in that room looked at me like I was a bomb about to explode.
My room is small but clean, with a single bed and a dresser that Doc found somewhere. It smells like pine cleaner and motor oil, nothing like the lavender and honey scent of my old room back in Nightshade. But it's mine. The first space that's ever been just mine.
I slip out into the hallway in bare feet. The compound is quieter now, but I can still hear voices from downstairs. Music. The clink of bottles. Normal pack sounds that should be comforting but just make me feel more out of place.
Maybe I can make myself useful. That's what I do - find ways to be helpful so people don't notice how much space I take up.
The kitchen is empty when I reach it. Moonlight streams through the windows, casting everything in shadows. I find a dishrag and start wiping down counters that are already clean. Keeping myself busy helps. It keeps my hands from shaking.
"Working late, aren't we?"
I spin around, nearly dropping the rag. Mara stands in the doorway, still dressed in her black leather and combat boots. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and there's something scary in the way she moves into the kitchen.
"I couldn't sleep," I say, clutching the dishrag like a shield. "Thought I'd help with cleanup."
"How thoughtful." She moves closer, her steps deliberate. "The helpful little runt, trying to earn her keep."
I take a step back, my hip bumping against the counter. "I should probably head back upstairs."
"Should you?" Mara tilts her head, studying me like a cat studies a mouse. "I think we need to have a little chat first."
My throat goes dry. "I don't want any trouble."
"Too late for that." She stops just within arm's reach, crossing her arms. "You brought trouble the minute Ryder dragged your pathetic ass through our gates."
I shake my head quickly. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask him to save me."
"No?" Her laugh is sharp and cold. "Then why are you still here? Why aren't you begging him to let you leave?"
Because I have nowhere else to go. The truth sits heavy in my throat, but I can't say it out loud. Can't admit that this compound full of dangerous bikers is the safest place I've ever been.
"You don't belong here," Mara continues, moving closer. "You're weak. Broken. A liability that's going to get good wolves killed."
Each word hits like a punch to my gut. I flinch, taking another step back until I'm pressed against the counter with nowhere to go.
"Please," I whisper. "I will stay out of everyone's way. I won't cause problems."
"You already caused problems." She leans in, her voice dropping to a hiss. "You made our alpha look weak in front of the entire pack. Do you have any idea what that does to pack dynamics?"
I don't answer because I do know. I've seen what happens to weak alphas back in Nightshade. The challenges. The bloodshed. The way packs tear themselves apart from the inside.
"He threatened me," Mara says, her eyes never leaving mine. "Ryder Kane threatened his own pack member over some broken little bitch who can't even shift without collapsing."
"I'm sorry." The words tumble out desperately. "I didn't want him to do that. I told him not to."
"But he did it anyway." She reaches out suddenly, and I flinch so hard that I knock over a glass sitting on the counter behind me.
It shatters against the tile floor, the sound explosive in the quiet kitchen. I drop to my knees instinctively, trying to gather the pieces with shaking hands.
"Look at you," Mara says, disgust thick in her voice. "Pathetic. Even when you try to help, you just make more of a mess."
A shard slices into my palm as I try to pick up the larger pieces. Blood wells up, bright red against my pale skin. I bite back a whimper and keep cleaning, even as more glass cuts into my knees through my thin pajama pants.
"Here's what's going to happen," Mara continues, stepping around me toward the doorway. Her boots crunch on glass fragments. "You're going to be a good little omega and stay invisible. No more pack meetings. No more making Ryder choose between his loyalty to us and his misguided need to protect you."
I nod frantically, still trying to collect the broken glass. "Yes. I understand."
"Do you?" She pauses at the threshold, looking back at me. "Because if you don't, if you keep being a distraction, I will make sure you disappear permanently. And it won't be quick or pretty."
The threat makes me whimper. I keep my head down, focusing on the glass, the blood, the sharp edges cutting into my skin.
"Clean up your mess," Mara says. "And remember what I told you. He will get bored of playing protector eventually. They always do."
Her laughter follows her down the hallway, leaving me alone with blood on my hands and glass scattered around me like fallen stars.
I sit back on my heels, staring at the destruction. She's right, of course. I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere. I'm just a problem that keeps getting passed from pack to pack, leaving chaos in my wake.
By the time I finish cleaning up, there's blood on the dishrag and my knees are screaming. I throw away the last of the glass and rinse the cuts on my hands, watching pink water swirl down the drain.
Back in my room, I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at my bandaged palms. The cuts throb in time with my heartbeat, a steady reminder of how easily I break things. How easily I get broken.
Mara's words echo in my head: He'll get bored. They always do.
I know she's right. The only question is how much damage I'll cause before that happens. How many more glasses I'll break. How many more pack members I'll turn against their alpha.
I curl up on my side, pulling the thin blanket over my head.
Tomorrow, I'll start staying invisible like Mara wants. I'll find ways to be useful without being noticed.
Maybe if I'm quiet enough, small enough, I can buy myself a little more time before the inevitable happens.