Chapter 12 Pawning The Past
The pawn shop’s bell chimed as I pushed the door open, the stale smell of old leather and metal filling my nose. I kept my head down, careful not to make eye contact with the shopkeeper, a wiry man with eyes like coals that seemed to burn straight through me. My fingers clutched the velvet box I had taken from Darius’s dresser, the watch inside gleaming like a frozen sun.
I had barely slept, barely eaten since fleeing the mansion, but somehow I had made it here. The streets were emptying as morning bled into the day, the city awakening to the mundane routine that felt alien compared to the chaos I had just escaped. My pulse still thudded violently in my ears, the memory of Darius’s scent clinging to me like a second skin. I shoved the thought away, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
“Morning,” I said quietly, holding out the box.
The shopkeeper looked up from his newspaper, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You pawnin’ that?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt.
He examined the watch, tilting his head, his thin fingers brushing across the gold and black metal. “Where’d you get it?” His gaze lingered on me, and I knew he was used to people lying, used to cornered stories and hurried excuses. I swallowed the urge to panic.
“Found it,” I said simply, letting my voice carry a casual lie. “Need cash.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he shrugged and reached for his ledger. “I’ll give you five hundred. Firm.”
My stomach twisted.
“What do you mean this must be worth thousands.”
“It's engraved and won't be worth much after resale if I have the engraving removed .” he simply answered.
Five hundred wasn’t a lot for something this expensive, but it was enough to get us on the next bus, enough to buy time to think. “Deal,” I said, relief washing over me.
He handed me the bills, and I stuffed them quickly into my hoodie pocket. I could feel the weight of them, the temporary security, but also the reminder that I was still running. I turned to leave, and for a moment, I thought I saw him watching me closely, suspicion and curiosity written across his lined face.
The door chimed again as I stepped outside, and the sharp morning air hit me. I squinted in the sunlight and saw Fred leaning against a lamppost, phone pressed to his ear. The sight of him made my chest ache in a way I tried to ignore, a deep pull that had nothing to do with the city or the day.
He ended the call and frowned when he saw the cash in my hand. “Did you manage it?” he asked, voice low, cautious. “The watch?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t as much as I hoped, but it’ll do.”
He nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Good.” Then, without another word, he gestured toward the street. “Let’s go.”
We moved quickly, silent and tense, weaving through the crowd without drawing attention. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t need to. I could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes flicked over every passerby, already alert to danger. Even now, even after everything, he was protective.
When we reached the bus stop, I felt a pang of exhaustion hit me like a wave. My legs ached, my lungs burned from running, and yet there was no relief. The bus screeched to a stop, doors hissing open, and we climbed aboard. We chose seats near the back, where the shadows pooled, and settled in. The engine groaned, and the bus lurched forward, leaving the city behind.
I stared out the window, watching familiar streets blur into the distance. My heart thumped against my ribs, a steady reminder that the hunt was far from over. Darius was out there. He would never stop until he found me. The thought should have terrified me, but it was something else that made the ache in my chest throb with unbearable intensity.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. It was just the fear, the exhaustion, the loneliness. I had lived here a long time; I had loved and lost in this city, and maybe this was just sadness. But my fingers tightened around the edge of the seat, the ache refusing to be ignored. My mind kept drifting to him, Darius, and the way he looked at me when he called me his mate. The words replayed in my head over and over, like a haunting melody I couldn’t escape.
Fred noticed my silence and glanced at me. His eyes softened, and he reached over, resting his hand on mine. “Hey,” he said gently. “You’ll be okay.”
I forced a nod, though it was empty. I didn’t know if I’d be okay. The reality of being on the run, of hiding, of always looking over my shoulder, pressed down on me. But there was comfort in his hand, the steady warmth that reminded me I wasn’t completely alone.
We rode in silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional squeal of brakes filling the space between us. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was so normal in this moment, so human. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his eyes, those green, earnest eyes, watched me carefully. I hated how much it made me feel, how much it reminded me that there was someone in this world who genuinely cared for me, who could make me feel safe, if only for a moment.
The bus traveled farther from the city, the streets growing emptier, the buildings lower, until concrete and glass gave way to fields and forested areas. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, watching the trees flash past. Each tree, each shadow, made me think of Darius and his pack. His presence was like a storm always looming on the horizon, and no matter how far we went, I knew I couldn’t outrun him forever.
Fred shifted beside me, and I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye. He leaned slightly toward me, his voice quiet. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Together.”
I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him. But the truth was, the world we were living in wasn’t built for people like me. I wasn’t just running from Darius; I was running from the Council, from other wolves, from the truth about myself. And eventually, all of it would catch up to me.
The ache in my chest intensified, and I pressed my hand over it, forcing myself to focus on something else. “I… I don’t want to get used to being chased,” I said, voice low, almost a whisper. “I don’t want to live like this forever.”
Fred nodded, squeezing my hand. “Then we won’t. Not forever. I promise you.”
I wanted to believe that promise, but a part of me knew that the world we were stepping into was far darker than he could imagine. The bus carried us farther from the city, but the danger followed us in ways that were unseen, silent, lethal, and inevitable.
For now, we were together. That was the small comfort I could hold onto as the sun climbed higher, illuminating the countryside we passed through. I pressed my hand harder into Fred’s, drawing strength from his presence. It wouldn’t be enough to keep me safe from what was coming, but for the first time since leaving Darius’s mansion, I felt… something like hope.