Mated Runaway

Addisons POV: Great. It’s raining again. This makes the third time this week that I’ve been woken up by a sudden downpour. “What do you expect to happen when we live without shelter?” Growled my wolf. Times like this I really hate being a rogue. I sigh and roll my eyes as I quickly roll up my sleeping bag. “Maybe if people would leave their sticky fingers off my stuff we’d still have our tent.” I mumbled back. I’ve been on my own for the past 5 years. I went rogue on my 18th birthday. That’s the age the moon goddess allows us to start the search for our mate. But I’m not searching- I’m avoiding. In school they teach us that our mate is handpicked by the Mood Goddess. It’s the one person that we will be forever connected to. Mate’s souls instantly connect in a way that causes every sense to be drawn to each other. Trying to fight the bond would be a losing battle. I never believed it. I think that’s what they teach to justify us to give in to our animalistic urges of lust. How can that be true with how my dad treated my mom? I can still hear the whimpers from my mom as my dad would slam her against the walls after having a few too many drinks. She never fought back would never made a sound above a whimper. He was a warrior in our pack. I never knew why he was so angry or why he seemed to take everything out on my mom. But nearly every night mom curled herself into a tight ball and held on for dear life trying to protect herself from any major damage just waiting for his rage to end. The next morning, I would wait until I heard dad left before coming downstairs to see mom, as beautiful as ever, standing at the stove cooking breakfast. Her perfectly wavy brown hair pulled back allowing her hazel almond eyes to be center of attention. She would always be smiling as if she didn’t go through hell a few hours earlier. She was a strong woman. We’ve always been close and could talk for hours without running out of topics. Whenever I asked her why she stayed and suffered or what made him so angry she would just reply, “Addison, we mate for life. Leaving your father would kill me. No matter how much pain I go through, I know he needs me because he is suffering even more.” I never understood how she could say that. He’s the one inflicting pain on his mate? If the mate bond is so strong how is that possible? It can’t possibly be as strong as everyone makes it out to be. I promised myself that I would never find out. My mother was an angel. She never gave my dad the satisfaction of giving up. I guess that’s why eventually he beat her bad enough that she stopped breathing. I shake my head to clear the thoughts of the past out of my head. I grab my bag and start walking toward the town just outside of the forest. I’m in the middle of nowhere and it’s Sunday. I’m not sure I’ll have any luck finding any open shops. I make my way out of the clearing and see I’m in a little cutesy town. Now I’m sure I won’t find anything open today. Walking past the first few shops and looking in the windows, there’s no lights on and I feel my stomach growl in disapproval. I haven’t eaten since Friday night and even that was sheer luck. I turn a corner and to my surprise there’s a little bakery with an open sign. I made my way across the street to see if I could figure out a way to haggle myself some breakfast. I step inside the bakery and see a little white-haired lady slowly setting items out in the display. She didn’t seem to hear me when I came in. I clear my throat not wanting to scare her, she quickly looks up with wide eyes but smiles when she sees me. She looks tired, like she’s been working for hours already. I smile back not wanting her to feel threatened and walk up to the counter. I start eyeing the display and instantly regret it. Everything looks so good- like it just came out the oven. Thick cinnamon rolls, croissants, mini sweet loafs, and muffins. My stomach decides that this is the perfect time to let out the loudest and angriest growl yet. I instantly feel my cheeks get warm and look up to see the little old lady with an amused look on her face. This has gotten awkward really quick. I have no money to pay for anything, but she obviously heard my stomach’s noisy complaint. Reaching up and scratching my forehead I ask the lady, “Is there anything I can help you with this morning in exchange for a little breakfast?” I’m so embarrassed I hate asking for help, usually I just swipe stuff or try to stay in the forests and forage anything edible. It’s always harder in the winter, especially with the amount of rain there’s been lately. The lady smiles sweetly and says, “I have plenty that needs to be done that I always seem to struggle doing, but first I have a few questions.” I gulp. Here we go, I always get strange looks. Since I’ve been on my own for so long and have to scrounge for food I’m pretty small. I may be 23 but I’m smaller than I was when I left home all those years ago. I try to avoid moments like these the best I can, but to try to steer the conversation my way I reply, “My name is Addison, I’m 23 even if I don’t look like it. I’ve been on my own since my parents died years ago, and I do anything I can within reason to take care of myself.” She looked at me with a concerned look and for a second I’m scared she’s going to pry, but she surprises me when she simply says, “there’s some dishes in the back that need to be cleaned up from the first round of bakes, let’s start with that.” I breathe a sigh of relief and follow her into the back room, “Oh and call me Mable.” I smile to myself instantly feeling comforted by the warmth of the room and the smells still in the air. Mable. Even her name sounds comforting. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.