Chapter 5 My Human Might Be Insane

Chapter 4: My Human Might Be Insane

We'd been running for what felt like forever. Not literally. But long enough that my paws were aching and the trees had started blending together in one endless green smear. Red's heartbeat was loud in my ears, a steady rhythm of fear and adrenaline. I could feel her legs trembling beneath her as she stumbled beside me, gasping for breath.

Then-nothing. No sound of pursuit. No snapping branches or snarling breath behind us. I slowed. Red did too, nearly collapsing into a tree trunk, one hand bracing against it.

"He's not following us," she whispered.

I sniffed the air, ears twitching. The Alpha's scent had faded. Faint, like smoke blown away by the wind. Gone.

"Well," I thought to myself, "either he gave up, or he's just really good at hide-and-seek."

Still, no sense in wasting energy. I slumped onto the ground with a dramatic huff. Red slid down the tree trunk, sitting in the leaves and grass, chest heaving.

I was kind of proud of my human. She was holding it together better than I'd expected her to. She'd helped when I needed her to, she'd run when we were supposed to and there was no extra fainting or crying, as humans were prone to doing when distressed.

For a moment, there was silence. The kind that's too quiet. The kind that warns you something's about to happen.

And as I open my mouth tell her she did good, Red starts laughing.

At first, it was soft. A little breath of sound, like a surprised giggle. But then it kept going. Louder. Shrill. Her shoulders shook with it.

I lifted my head.

"Uh... okay. That's not ominous at all."

She doubled over, laughing so hard tears ran down her cheeks. And then she cried. Really cried. Big, ugly sobs that tore out of her like they'd been waiting their whole life for an exit.

And then, because apparently this was an emotional buffet, she started laughing again.

"Okay... My human might actually be going insane," I thought, staring at her like she'd grown a second head.

I padded over, nudging her with my snout, wagging my tail a little bit to shake off some dirt. "Hey. Come on. Pull it together. We didn't escape Crazy Alpha Man just to have a breakdown in the woods."

Red wiped at her face, still sniffling. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," I thought. "Totally stable."

She took a deep breath. "Let's go to Aunt Ev's. She'll be at work. She always is. Even when I had this asthma attack when I was eight and thought I was dying, she didn't miss a shift. She's never missed work."

That didn't exactly sound comforting, but whatever. I wasn't in the mood to debate. I gave a short, approving huff and trotted ahead, just in case the Big Bad Alpha decided to show his ugly mug again.

The house looked the same as always. That boring shade of beige that made you wonder if it was painted or just really dusty. The porch creaked under Red's weight as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

As soon as we were in, the tension in her shoulders eased a little. Just a little.

She walked in, touching things like they were made of glass as walked by. Picture frames. The arm of the couch. One of those little decorative bowls filled with fake fruit.

Her's eyes darted to the living room as we make our way up the stairs. "I remember lying on that couch during my worst asthma attack. Could barely breathe, and Ev still went to work. Came back with meds and ice cream like nothing happened." Her laugh was hollow. "That day, I thought it meant she trusted me to survive."

My human isn't just insane, she's sad too, good to know.

"Home sweet disappointment," I thought. She led me upstairs, to her room, and as soon as the door closed behind us, I started exploring. And by exploring, I mean snooping. Hard.

"Oh no," I muttered in my head as I caught sight of the dresser. I sniffed. Then pawed open the top drawer.

"A thong?" I blinked at the lacy strip of nothingness. "Seriously? To seduce who? Your aunt?"

" Oh shut up." Red said with what looks like a blush on her pale skin.

I nosed around more. Candles. Journals. A cracked perfume bottle that smelled like sugary flowers and desperation. Posters of sad-eyed indie boys on the wall.

"You need help," I muttered.

Meanwhile, Red begins pacing, talking to herself. Then she turned to me. "You're hurt. I should... I should fix you up."

I sat down and raised a brow-well, the wolf equivalent. Then, slowly, I turned to show her my shoulder. No blood. No bite marks. No pain.

She blinked. "Wait... you're healed?"

I nodded. Then nudged her leg with my nose. She looked down at herself. Her arms, her side-everything the ritual and I had bruised or cut.

Gone.

Sera's face went pale. "I'm... Hollow-Born," she whispered.

No shit, Sherlock.

She sat on the bed, hands in her lap. "How are we separate? You're supposed to be inside me. That's how it works. That's what they said..."

I tilted my head. I didn't have answers that she'd be able to handle right now, with her being all laughy and then teary eyed.

The front door opened. Then we both froze. Aunt Evelyn.

"Hide," Red whispered.

For once, I listened. I darted into her closet, slipping between jackets and boots, leaving just enough space to nudge the door shut with my snout. From there, I could hear everything.

"Oh sweetie," Aunt Evelyn's voice rang up the stairs, warm and worried. "Sera? Are you home?"

"Yeah, Aunt Ev," she called, voice strained.

There was the sound of hurried footsteps. Then the door opened.

Aunt Evelyn enveloped her in a hug. "I was so worried. You weren't home this morning and... God, your clothes are filthy. What happened?" Red hesitated.

"Don't do it," I warned. "Don't tell her."

But she did. She told her everything.

Not every detail, but enough. About the Alpha. The awakening. Me.

Aunt Evelyn didn't scream. She didn't panic. She sat quietly by the door for a moment, she pulls Red to sit next to her.

Then said, "We need to fix this."

"Fix?" Red asked. "If we kill the wolf, they won't be able to track you. No scent, no trail. You'll be safe."

Excuse me?

I growled. Not out loud, but inside our link, so sharp it made my human flinch.

"Absolutely not!" I shouted through the bond.

Red stood, panic rising in her voice. "No. No, that's not-she's not-"

I shoved open the closet door, padded out with purpose. My nose twitched.

Something was wrong. Aunt Evelyn smelled... wrong. Familiar, but not human-familiar.

Not aunt-familiar. I took a step forward, nostrils flaring. The scent hit me like a punch to the gut. The same trace of cold magic that made my tummy turn. Council. Hidden in plain sight.

I snapped my head toward Red. "Run!"

She didn't hesitate. Bless her.

We bolted out the door, down the stairs. Evelyn's shout echoed behind us.

But she didn't chase.

Maybe she didn't need to.

Maybe she'd already done enough.

But as we vanished into the woods again, at my side, hair whipping in the wind and breath ragged, I knew one thing: My human might be insane... But at least she's mine.