Chapter 126: Heart on Empty

(ALICE)

There are times when I’m convinced I’ve grown numb to the insults, the taunts, and the constant degradation. But in moments like this, I feel like a child, all alone and vulnerable, with the world hurling sticks and stones at me.

I throw away the letter opener and turn to leave. My steps are uneven, my vision half obscured by the blood in my eyes. I step out of the office and decide I’ll have to go see a healer. If Mary is available, she will patch me up. Otherwise, I’ll have to get some gauze and disinfectant from the local human pharmacy.

It’s June, and it’s sweltering hot, even in the evening. Despite the sweat streaming down my nape, I wish I had a jacket or something to conceal my badly injured face from the gawking shifters. It sucks that shifters prefer living in close proximity to each other. Each time I get a beating, it’s public knowledge. While there are always a few sympathetic faces, most of my pack feels that my humiliation is well-deserved. I don’t know what they expect me to do. Kill myself?

It hasn’t come to that yet.

Since my kind prefers to reside close together, it means I run into pack members everywhere I go. I am fortunate in one regard, which is that my job and my apartment are both located outside the pack’s inner territory. They might have considered this a punishment, but to me, it’s nothing short of a relief. I don’t mind living among humans. They’re kinder to me than my own people.

The Wolf Kingdom existed long before humans populated our land. But unlike our kind, humans multiply like rabbits, and over time, we had to concede to human rule, and the Wolf Kingdom faded into obscurity. Soon enough, the humans forgot about our kind, relegating us to their myths and legends.

However, the Wolf Kingdom had simply withdrawn into the background, never letting go of its reins. With multiple packs under its vast umbrella, it controls the continent’s economy, entertainment, and politics, much like its counterparts in Europe and on other continents.

We may be hidden from the human eye, but we are still very much in control. My people take pride in this, but I don’t. What use is it being all powerful when they can’t even treat one of their own with basic decency?

I try to call Mary, one of my few friends in the pack, but she doesn’t pick up. I send her a message, and when there is no response, I realize I may have to go to the healing center. I let out a quiet groan.

I make my way to the edge of the territory, where there will be fewer people around. Weaving through the trees, I try to stay out of sight of the few shifters moving about. My hand is hurting, and when I look down at it, I can tell that the wound is not healing. Instead, I see the beginnings of infection.

Shifters have fast healing, but that’s only one side of the coin. If we get an infection, that also progresses quickly. It has something to do with our immune systems. I need to see Mary right away. She’s the only one who can help me. If I go to the healing center, they’re going to give me a tough time. They’ll treat me because they have no choice, but the way they’ll move around me, touching me gingerly as if I carry some special cooties, is too disheartening right now. And the last thing I need at the moment is more harsh words thrown at me.

I check my phone, but there’s still no response from Mary. My heart sinks as I look at my infected hand.

What do I do? Should I just go to the human pharmacy and get some bandages and something to disinfect the wound with? My head is lowered as I walk, so I don’t see the person hurrying in my direction until I bump into him.

The man is built like a tank, and while he doesn’t budge, I fall on my ass.

For a moment, I don’t know what hit me. Groaning, I curl on my side, my body wracked with pain. I couldn’t have hit a person; that had to have been a brick wall.

“Are you alright?” It’s a man’s voice.

As he leans closer, I catch his scent, and I feel a strange, unknown sensation within me. Despite what I feel for certain is a broken rib, I crack an eye open and come face to face with a dark-haired man with light green eyes.

He’s looking straight at me, and I stare up at him. “Are you real?”

He blinks. “What?”

Maybe I hit my head too hard. That would make sense. I’m seeing things. Because that’s not a man; that’s an angel. His face looks like it’s been sculpted by the Gods with painstaking care. All those sharp angles and beautiful curls.

Dazed, I continue to look at him. “You’re pretty. You’re very pretty.”

His face turns red, and he coughs, “You must have hit your head pretty hard.” He takes my hands and helps me to my feet. As he steadies me, I realize that this is not some dream. Flustered, I try to move away, but my head is spinning. He grabs me by my upper arms. “Whoa, there.”

When he gets a closer look at my face, his expression changes. “What happened to you? Were you attacked?”

His question has me falling back to Earth, the haze giving way to stark reality.

A shifter.

He’s a wolf shifter, like me. But he’s not from my pack.

I push him away. “I’m fine. Sorry. I must’ve hit my head.”

I try to move past him, but he stops me. “Let me take you to a healer.”

Those green eyes are filled with concern. He’s looking at me as if I matter, as if my pain matters.

My lips start to move, and then I press them together. I don’t want to see the same disgust in his eyes as I’ve seen in the eyes of others of my kind. I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it right now.

However, he doesn’t let me go. His hand wraps around my wrist, and he frowns. “Somebody hurt you. Do you need help?”

Before I can say anything, his eyes move lower. “Your hand. It’s infected. You need to see a healer immediately.” He takes a cloth from his pocket and ties it around my palm. “This will stave off the infection till we get to the healer.”

My breath is stuck in my throat as I watch him carefully wrap the cloth around my palm and tie it securely, his forehead creased in concentration. My heart is beating incredibly fast, each thump vibrating in my ribcage.

This man is handsome, but not in the rough, rugged way most shifters are.

His is a kind of ethereal beauty. As his fingers graze my palm, each touch gives me a burst of euphoria. I’ve never reacted like this to any male before, and it’s overwhelming.

He looks into my eyes as he says, “You need to report this attack on you.”

I part my lips, about to say something I know I’ll regret. And then something occurs to me.

I don’t know this man, but I do know that when he finds out I don’t have a wolf spirit, the concern and worry in his beautiful eyes will be replaced by disdain and coldness.

I back away from him. “I’m fine. Really.” Reality is crashing down around me.

He tries to stop me, but I begin hobbling away, feeling like my heart will burst.

He calls out after me, but I break into a run.

I can’t handle his kindness. I just can’t. My heart is too tired. So very tired.

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