Chapter10
1159 Words
“I can't do this, Anna."
Georgia's voice was sharp, her pulse pounding in her ears. She clenched her fists, the letter still crumpled in Anna’s trembling hands. The fire crackled behind them, casting flickering shadows across the cabin walls.
Anna took a desperate step forward. “Please, Georgia. I need you. I can’t do this alone.” Her voice cracked, the raw emotion behind it twisting something deep in Georgia’s chest.
“You don’t understand.” Georgia’s throat tightened. “If I go back… I’m not sure I’ll ever leave again.”
Anna shook her head violently. “No. That won’t happen. You’re not the same girl you were back then. You’re stronger. You’ve built a life. You’ve built a family.” She gestured toward the small room where the triplets were sleeping soundly. “You are *not* weak anymore, Georgia.”
Georgia swallowed hard, her body tense.
Anna’s voice softened. “Look, I swear, you won’t have to see them. You won’t have to face anything you don’t want to. I just… I just need someone to have my back.” She exhaled shakily. “You’re the only one I trust.”
The words hit Georgia like a punch to the gut. She turned away, her gaze landing on the closed bedroom door. A sense of dread slithered through her veins.
The Blue Moon Pack.
The place she had fought to escape.
The place that had nearly broken her.
Going back meant facing the past. And the past always had a way of catching up.
She exhaled sharply. “Fine,” she murmured. “I’ll go.”
Anna’s eyes widened in surprise. “You will?”
“I said *fine, didn’t I?” Georgia crossed her arms. “But listen to me, Anna, if things get bad, we’re leaving. No second chances. No unfinished business. We get in, and we get out.”
Anna nodded quickly, relief washing over her features. “Of course. In and out.”
Georgia wasn’t sure why, but something about this felt… wrong.
As she turned to glance at the children, a chill ran down her spine.
Maybe it was just paranoia.
Or maybe it was something worse.
The Next Morning
The triplets were in absolute chaos.
“Kelvin, put that down!” Georgia snapped as her son waved a wooden spoon like a sword, narrowly missing Kelsey’s head.
Keira shrieked with laughter, grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it into the air. A cloud of white dust exploded over the kitchen.
“Keira!” Georgia groaned. “Why, just why?”
The little girl grinned, her golden curls bouncing as she spun.
“Because it’s fun!”
Kelsey, the quietest but most mischievous, grabbed a piece of bread and shoved it into his pocket before Georgia could stop him.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to lose my mind before we even leave.”
Anna, watching from the corner, stifled a laugh. “They’re… energetic.”
Georgia shot her a look. “That’s an understatement.”
Despite the chaos, there was a warmth in her chest. Her children were wild, stubborn, and impossible, but they were hers.
She had fought for them. Bled for them.
And she would never let anyone take them away.
But going back… meant risking everything.
She shoved the thought away.
“I want all of you to listen to me,” she said, crouching in front of the triplets. “We’re going on a trip. A short one. But you need to behave. No running off, no causing trouble, and no talking to strangers.”
Kelvin crossed his arms. “Why are we going?”
Georgia hesitated.
“Because Aunt Anna needs to see her mommy,” Keira answered before Georgia could speak.
Kelsey frowned. “Aren’t mommies supposed to take care of their kids? Why does she need to see her?”
The innocent question made Georgia’s chest tighten.
“Sometimes,” she said softly, “even mommies need help.”
Kelvin huffed. “I don’t like this.”
Me neither, baby.
But it was too late to turn back now.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
The Journey Back
The moment they crossed the border into Blue Moon Pack territory, Georgia’s entire body tensed.
It looked the same.
The towering trees. The winding dirt roads. The air is thick with memories.
But she wasn’t that scared girl anymore.
She wasn’t the one running.
Not this time.
Anna was beside her, gripping her hands together like she was barely keeping herself together.
Georgia glanced at her. “Are you sure about this?”
Anna exhaled shakily. “No. But I have to do it anyway.”
A lump formed in Georgia’s throat.
Because she understood that feeling all too well.
Kelvin, Keira, and Kelsey clung close to her as they walked, their small hands gripping her fingers.
Georgia tightened her hold on them.
No matter what happened, she would protect them.
Georgia’s steps faltered as they neared the village.
The air felt thick. Heavy.
The scent of pine and damp earth filled her lungs, but beneath it, beneath it was something else.
Memory.
Her grip on the triplets tightened as her breathing grew uneven.
She knew this place.
She hated this place.
“Mom?” Kelvin tugged at her hand, his small brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
Georgia forced a smile, but her fingers trembled. “I’m fine, baby.”
But she wasn’t.
Her body was frozen in place.
Because the past wasn’t just creeping in. It was swallowing her whole.
“You’re nothing.”
Her father’s voice. Cold. Sharp.
She was on her knees, hands clutching her stomach. Blood on the floor. Her blood.
Her mother stood behind him, silent, eyes filled with tears but she didn’t move.
She never moved.
She never fought for her.
Georgia squeezed her eyes shut. No. Not now.
“You thought I’d choose you?”
His voice. His voice
The man who was supposed to be her mate.
Laughter. Cruel. Mocking.
And then, the worst part
The rejection.
Cold. Final. Like she meant nothing.
“Mom!”
Keira’s small hands wrapped around hers, grounding her.
Georgia gasped, sucking in a shaky breath.
“Mom,” Keira whispered again. “Do we have to be here?”
For a moment, Georgia wanted to turn around. To run.
She could take her babies and disappear again.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore.
She wasn’t weak.
Her eyes burned as she looked toward the village gates.
“Just a little longer, baby,” she murmured, voice raw. “Then we go home.”
And yet
As they stepped inside, something in her gut twisted.
A prickle at the back of her neck.
A whisper in the wind.
A feeling.
Like someone was watching.
Her fingers curled into fists.
No. No one knew she was here… at least, that’s what she thought.
SNAP.
- Writer
