THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME - Chapter 29: Chapter 29

**Evangeline's POV**
My legs give out three blocks from home. One moment I'm walking on shaking knees, the next I'm on my hands and knees on the sidewalk, vomiting nothing but bile. My stomach clenches and twists like someone's wringing it out like a dirty rag.
The sun beats down on my back, but I can't stop shivering. Every part of me hurts - my head pounds like a drum, my throat feels raw from screaming, and my hands won't stop trembling. The sixteen hours in that storage room broke something inside me, and I don't know how to put it back together.
People walk past me like I'm invisible. A woman in jogging clothes steps around me without slowing down. A man walking his dog crosses to the other side of the street. Nobody stops. Nobody asks if I need help.
I'm alone. Just like I was in that room. Just like I've always been.
My wolf whimpers deep in my chest, but she feels weak too. Like whatever happened in that storage room drained both of us. The silver mark on my palm is gone, but I can still feel it burning under my skin. A reminder that nothing will ever be the same.
I try to stand, but my legs shake so badly I fall back down. Tears pour down my cheeks, hot and angry and full of everything I can't say out loud. I hate feeling this broken. I hate that they did this to me. I hate that I'm sitting on a sidewalk like a lost child, too weak to even walk home.
The woods call to me from across the street. Dark trees stretching up toward the sky, offering shade and silence and a place to hide. My wolf lifts her head, interested for the first time since the vision. She wants the trees. Wants to run deep into the green shadows where no one can find us.
I drag myself to my feet, swaying like a drunk person. My vision blurs at the edges, but I force one foot in front of the other. Across the street. Past the chain-link fence with the hole someone cut years ago. Into the woods.
The moment I step under the trees, everything changes. The air is cooler here, smelling of earth and moss and growing things. Birds sing somewhere above my head, and leaves rustle in a breeze I can't feel. My wolf stretches inside me, breathing deeper for the first time in hours.
I stumble deeper into the forest, following a narrow path that might be made by deer or might be made by people. I don't care. I just need to get away from houses and cars and the possibility of seeing another human being who might hurt me.
My feet catch on roots and rocks. Branches tear at my clothes and scratch my arms, but I keep going. The trees close around me like a green tunnel, blocking out the sun and the rest of the world. This is what I need. This quiet, living darkness that asks nothing of me.
I don't know how long I walk. Time feels strange here, like it moves differently under the trees. My legs carry me forward even though they want to collapse. My wolf guides me, following scents and sounds I can't understand.
Then I smell it. Smoke. Wood smoke with something else mixed in - herbs, maybe. Something that makes my wolf prick up her ears and quicken my steps.
I follow the smell through the trees until I see it. A cottage. Small and crooked, with ivy growing up the sides and a garden that looks like it grew wild on purpose. Smoke curls from the chimney even though it's a warm day, and wind chimes made of bones and stones hang from the porch.
I should be afraid. This place looks like something from a scary story, the kind where children get eaten by witches. But my wolf is calm, almost happy. She recognizes this place somehow.
That's when I see her.
A girl sits on the porch steps, reading a book with a black cover. She looks up when she hears my footsteps, and I nearly fall over.
It's Maeve. The girl who saved me from Celeste's fake theft accusation. The girl who appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly.
"Evangeline," she says, closing her book. Her voice is calm, like she was expecting me. "You look terrible."
I laugh, but it comes out broken and sharp. "Thanks. That makes me feel so much better."
She stands up, and I notice she's wearing a long black dress that looks like it belongs in another century. Her dark hair is braided with small white flowers, and around her neck hangs a pendant that glows softly in the shadows.
A pendant that makes my chest tighten with recognition, though I can't say why.
"You're her," I whisper. "You're the witch."
Maeve tilts her head, studying me with eyes that seem much older than her face. "I wondered when you'd figure it out. Come inside. You need healing."
"I don't understand any of this," I say, but my legs are already carrying me toward the cottage. "I don't understand what's happening to me."
"I know," she says gently. "But understanding can wait. Right now, you need to rest."
The inside of the cottage is dim and smells like dried herbs and old books. Bundles of plants hang from the ceiling, and shelves line the walls, filled with jars and bottles that hold things I don't want to look at too closely. A fire burns in the fireplace even though it's summer, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Maeve guides me to a chair by the fire. The moment I sit down, exhaustion hits me like a wave. My eyelids feel heavy, and my body sinks into the cushions like I might never get up again.
"Drink this," Maeve says, pressing a warm cup into my hands.
The liquid inside is green and smells like spring rain. "What is it?"
"Tea. Chamomile, lavender, and a few other things to help you heal."
I should be suspicious. Should ask more questions. But I'm too tired to care anymore. I drink the tea in three long gulps, tasting honey and flowers and something that makes my wolf purr with satisfaction.
Almost immediately, the shaking in my hands stops. The pounding in my head fades to a dull ache, and the tight knot in my chest begins to loosen. I can breathe again without feeling like I'm drowning.
"Better?" Maeve asks, sitting across from me in another chair.
I nod, but tears start flowing again. Not the angry tears from before, but something deeper. Relief mixed with grief mixed with fear that threatens to break me open completely.
"They locked me in a room," I whisper. "For sixteen hours. Nobody looked for me. Nobody cared."
"I know," Maeve says. Her voice is soft but not pitying. "I sensed your distress. That's why I prepared the tea."
"You sensed it? How?"
She reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out a small object. It's a charm made of twisted silver wire, with a moonstone in the center that catches the firelight. "I've been keeping an eye on you since that day in school. Since I realized you needed protection."
"Protection from what?" The question tears out of me like a sob. "Everyone keeps saying I'm something special, something dangerous, but nobody will tell me what that means."
Maeve is quiet for a long moment, studying my face like she's trying to decide something important. "There are things I can tell you, and things I cannot. Not yet."
"Why? What's the point of helping me if you won't explain anything?"
"Because knowledge can be dangerous," she says carefully. "There are people who would hurt you just for knowing certain truths. Right now, your ignorance is part of what's keeping you alive."
Frustration boils up in my chest. "The white wolf told me to find you. She said you could help me understand what I am."
Maeve's eyes sharpen. "You've seen the white wolf?"
"In a vision. She called me Lunara. She said my mother was murdered."
"What else did she tell you?"
"That I need to find you before the next full moon. That there are people coming for me." My voice breaks. "She said they killed my mother because she was like me."
Maeve nods slowly, like this confirms something she already suspected. "The wolf spoke truth. Your mother was killed, and you are in danger. But I cannot tell you more than that. Not until you're stronger."
"I don't want this. I don't want to be hunted. I just want to be normal."