The Last Silver Wolf - The Return Of Shyla Black

3. Angel in Disguise

Shyla's POV:

3 1/2 Years Ago

Age 14

Dark Moon High...

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn't know where I was going; I just needed to get out of there... I felt like my chest was caving in, cutting off my air supply with ease. I couldn't think straight, too overwhelmed by the feeling of shame. I don't know what I did to deserve so much hatred for simply existing, but I didn't know how much longer I could take.

I stopped running when I came across a quiet river outside the dark forest. I undressed and tossed my soiled clothes over a rock, not bothering to check my surroundings. Everyone was at work or school, so I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me in my vulnerable moment. I dove into the chilly water and used an aloe vera plant to wash the chunks of rotted milk tangled in my hair. When I was finally finished, I noticed a faint smell of sour milk still lingered on my skin, but there wasn't much I could do about it since I couldn't go home yet. Not with Denver at the house; he typically didn't leave for the bar until around 4 or 5...

I decided to stay in the stream even after I was clean, allowing the water to caress my naked body and ease my tense muscles. I felt light and free out in the water, with no one to bother me. I was one with nature, a simple speck on this big green planet. I didn't have any problems or concerns. I was like a leaf blowing freely in the wind.

“Excuse me, Miss,” an unfamiliar voice spoke from the water's edge. I jumped up in fright and dunked my body in the water, shielding my nakedness from the strangers' eyes, but when I looked up, I noticed it was the young man from earlier who saved me from a beating from Denver.

“What do you want?” I asked harshly, glaring at the boy.

“I just wanted to talk," he said, raising his hands in surrender as if that would prove he wasn't a threat.

"I don't want to talk... go away." I waved my hand dismissively and sank deeper into the stream.

“Please,” he begged me. I didn't mean to scare you. “He took another step toward the water. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Shyla Black." My eyes widened at the fact that this man knew my name. I couldn’t deny that I was curious about what he wanted. No one had ever searched for me unless it was to cause me harm.

"Just give me five minutes, and if you still want nothing to do with me, then I'll get out of your hair," he promised with a sincere look. For some reason, I decided to trust him. It wasn't every day that people tracked me down, intending to help me.

"Fine," I grumbled. But only five minutes. A broad grin spread across his face, and he clapped his hands together as if he had accomplished something big.

"Ehh, hem," I cleared my throat; he stood there momentarily, staring at me. "Do you mind?" I crossed my arms over my ample chest as his blue eyes traveled up and down my body for a brief moment before he blushed and turned around, mumbling a series of apologies.

I stepped out of the water, dripping wet and shivering. I looked at my soiled clothes. The pants weren't that bad, but my shirt was completely ruined. I cursed under my breath, not wanting to put the smelly shirt back on, but I had no other choice; I had no spare clothes around. I picked up the flimsy material and began to put it over my head when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

I turned and saw the strange man standing behind me, his eyes squeezed shut. His muscular chest was bare, and he held out a white T-shirt and motioned for me to take it. I looked at him in shock.

No one had ever offered me anything before. I hesitated, wondering if he was pulling my leg.

"I mean no funny business," he said, as if reading my mind. I sighed deeply... Lord knows this wouldn’t be the first time someone played a mean trick like this on me, but he seemed genuine with his actions. I swiftly took the shirt and threw it on. It smelled like citrus and pine, a sweet, spicy scent that I found remotely soothing. The shirt was large on me and fell to my mid-thighs. Giving off the appeal of a dress, I threw on my jean jacket and boots and cleared my throat when I was fully dressed; he looked at me, smiled, and continued to stare at me like an i***t. An awkward silence brewed between us.

"So, what did you want to speak to me about?" I finally asked, when he didn't say anything.

"Oh yes," he said, shaking his head to focus. "My name is Orlando DeLuca, and I'm a student in the healing program at Lunar Academy." My eyes shot up to meet his; the mention of Lunar Academy immediately captured my full attention.

I work under Professor Adam Cullen, and he's extremely impressed with your test results. May I say you're beyond amazing?"

I flushed and looked at the ground. I wasn't used to receiving compliments and didn't know how to receive them. I nodded my head and mumbled a small “Thank You.”

"We would love to welcome you onto our team. However, we noticed your physical strength is far below the standard criteria of a medical student."

My face fell as disappointment flooded my thoughts and mind. I had no physical strength whatsoever. I was small, timid, and weak, which made me an easy target for everyone around me.... I excelled in every area except for combat training. I never thought I needed to learn to fight, not to mention, the Dark Moon trainers would never allow me to train with them.

"I'm no warrior," ... I mumbled, "My passion is medicine."

"I know," he chuckled, "but if you want to be a healer, particular strengths are required. You may have yet to realize it, but being a great healer is not just about excelling in science and medical terminology; it is good for every pack member to know the basics of self-defense. Not to mention, you would need to be able to lift 3 times your body's weight... think of the warriors you would be tending to"

I let his words sink in and sighed. He was right. Even when I see the medical staff here in Dark Moon working on their patients, the doctors and nurses can carry warriors in their bare arms.

"Is there a reason you've neglected your training?" he asked, his navy blue eyes boring into mine. I laughed humorlessly at his choice of words, and he looked at me with a perplexed expression.

"I'm a rogue; I'm not allowed to train in this pack. It's a blessing I'm even allowed in their school and on their land," I said, repeating the words ingrained into my brain over the last several years since Denver brought me to this godforsaken pack.

"That's what I figured," he said with a slight frown, "which is why the professor thought it would be a good idea to talk to your father and see if---

"Denver is NOT my father," I interjected, my voice harsher than I meant.

"Sorry," I apologized, "but he isn't my father... My parents are dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, and I heard the sincerity in his voice, "For you to be ready for the academy, we would have to train you; you'd have to leave Dark Moon and join my pack in ---

"I will do it, I said, the words flowing out of me before I could process what I was saying, but I didn't care what it entailed or what it took; as long as I got to leave Denver and Dark Moon, I would take this opportunity and whatever consequences came with it.

He chuckled," I was hoping that would be your response. The only issue I have is ... when I spoke with Denver," he made sure to refer to that scumbag with the proper name this time," he refused to sign off on your training leave, claiming that if we took away his only source of food and care, then we would have to pay him."

"What? My heart fell into my stomach, "He can't do that."

"Denver is your guardian, no?"

I nodded my head but said nothing. I was afraid I would break down into tears. The weight of his question weighed heavily on my shoulders. Leave it to Denver to rain on my parade and ruin any chance of me bettering myself and getting away from him.

"That's what I thought," he said, tapping his foot softly on the pavement. This is precisely why I wanted to talk to you myself and see what you thought of my proposition." He smiled again warmly at me, and I fought the urge to blush at his kindness. Is this what it's like to be treated like a normal person? I wondered to myself. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, and a small sprinkle of happiness filled my stomach.

"I would love to leave this dreadful pack more than anything," I said, taking an involuntary step closer to him. I could taste freedom on the tip of my tongue; maybe I didn't have to wait four more years to escape this hellhole...

"Okay, well, I will get Denver to sign the waiver. Then you can head back to school, and I'll pick you up at the end of the day.

“How”? I asked Denver was a hard ass; there was no way he’d let me leave.

“Don’t you worry your pretty face about that,” he grinned, “I will take care of everything, now go!”

He turned around and vanished into the trees,

I don't know why I trusted him; it made absolutely no sense, but I had to try. This has been my prayer for countless years and may finally be answered.