Her Tortured Mate

Episode 7: Supplies

I sat there, staring at him, my thoughts churning in an endless loop. His words echoed in my mind, colliding like waves in a stormy sea. A choice, he’d said. But it felt more like no choice at all. And then there was the matter of him calling me his… mate? The word felt foreign, jagged, like trying to swallow a shard of glass. My mind raced, caught in a tangle of confusion and the harsh reality that there was no going back from this.

"You promised me you’d give me the map," I managed to say, my voice quieter than I intended. "Let me go get supplies. I need to think." My chest tightened with each word. The weight of the decision he placed before me was suffocating, and I needed air. I needed space. I couldn’t decide anything right now.

He sighed, his expression one of resignation, like he’d been expecting this. After a moment of hesitation, I handed him the pen and paper I’d found in my bag. It wasn’t much, but it would do. He worked in silence, sketching out the route with careful precision. When he handed the paper back to me, his eyes held a quiet, unreadable depth that made my stomach twist. Was it hope? Regret? I couldn’t tell.

I grabbed my bag from the floor, needing to move, to escape the thick air of the cave that suddenly felt like it was closing in on me. I walked to the entrance, where the dim light from outside fell in, painting long shadows across the rough walls. I paused, glancing back over my shoulder. I shouldn’t have looked. But I did.

He was watching me, his gaze soft but weighted with something unspoken. It made my chest ache, though I didn’t fully understand why. It felt like there were unsaid words lingering in the space between us, heavy and suffocating. I swallowed hard, trying to push the sensation away.

I sighed, long and tired, then put my bag down. Emptying it out onto the rocky floor, I sorted through what little I had. My phone. Cash. Essentials. I pocketed the money and my phone, leaving the rest scattered on the ground. Slinging the now-empty bag over my shoulder, I turned toward the cave’s exit.

"I’ll be back," I muttered, more to myself than to him, though I knew he heard me. His silence was answer enough.

I stepped outside into the cool, damp air of the forest. The trees loomed around me like ancient sentinels, their twisted branches knitting together above. The silence pressed down, broken only by the soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots. The air smelled of earth and decay, a sharp contrast to the stale tension of the cave.

Following the map he’d drawn proved harder than I’d anticipated. The forest felt endless, each landmark blending into the next—trees, rocks, streams—all blurring together in a dizzying haze. But eventually, I stumbled upon a familiar sight: the road. My breath caught as I realized it was the very same road where this nightmare had begun, where he’d taken me.

I stood there for a long moment, staring down its length. I could turn left, go back to the house, go home. The thought was tantalizing. I wasn’t far. It would be so easy to slip back into my old life, pretend none of this had ever happened.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I needed time. I needed space to think, to sort through the storm of questions and fears that had taken root in my mind. Was I truly destined to become part of that pack, or was there a way out? And more importantly, did I even want a way out? The idea twisted uncomfortably in my gut.

So, I turned right. It wasn't home, but it felt better than retracing my steps to a life that no longer fit. The forest gave way to open fields, and soon, the town came into view. The sight of it stirred something in me, an odd mix of relief and dread. It was familiar, a beacon of normalcy, but it also felt wrong—like stepping into a world I no longer belonged to.

The first store I found sold clothes, and I made a beeline for the racks. I needed a hoodie, something plain and dark, something that could hide my hair. My white hair had already betrayed me once, causing this whole mess. I couldn’t risk it drawing attention again.

I rummaged through the racks until I found one that fit the criteria. It was oversized, with a deep hood that would obscure most of my features. Perfect. I grabbed it without a second thought, along with some basic supplies: food that wouldn’t spoil, medical essentials like bandages and antiseptic, a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap—all things I hadn’t realized I’d need until now.

By the time I paid for everything, my wallet was nearly empty. I’d have to figure out a way to get more money soon, but for now, this would have to do. I stepped outside, the bag of supplies slung over my shoulder, and hesitated. The road stretched out before me, leading back toward home. My heart ached at the thought of it. I walked up the road lost in my thoughts as it was also the way back to the cave.

Then I saw her.

Through the kitchen window of our house, my mom moved about, her familiar silhouette filling me with a pang of longing. Before I could stop myself, I took a step toward the house. But as I did, she turned, her gaze sweeping the yard. Her eyes met mine.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. She stepped out onto the porch, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. I wanted to run to her, to collapse into her arms and let her make everything okay again, like she always had when I was a child. But I couldn’t. Not now. Not with the danger that followed me like a shadow.

Panic surged through me, and I turned abruptly, running back toward the forest. My legs burned with the effort, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not until the house was far behind me, swallowed by the trees. My lungs heaved as I stumbled to a halt by a rushing river, the sound of the water drowning out my chaotic thoughts.

I leaned against a tree, panting, my mind a whirlwind of guilt, fear, and uncertainty. I’d made my choice. I couldn’t go back—not to my family, not to the life I’d known. Not when everything I’d ever believed in had been turned on its head. The only thing I knew for sure was that my life had become infinitely more complicated, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what lay ahead.