Beyond the Border | ✔

22 | rule 27

RULE 27:  NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A SUPERNATURAL — THEY ARE NOT BUILT LIKE US.

✷ C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - T W O ✷

With the memory of Ma fresh on my mind, I could not will myself to fall asleep. It was not for a lack of trying. For hours, I tossed and turned, my mind uneased with the ever present thought of Ma. She haunted my mind, unrelenting. I'd close my eye as tight as I could, trying with desperation to picture anyone — anyone but Ma — but it was like my mind only knew her. My mind only knew Ma.

Ma was out here. Dead or alive, Ma was still out here somewhere in the Outside.

For many years, Ma had been out of reach. She was dead, but, moreover, she was dead on the Outside. No amount of yearning or determination could conjure up the facts of Ma's last minutes in the Borderlands. I would accept the reality handed before me: she was dead. And, I would not question this — I could not question this, because there were no alternatives.

She was on the Outside.

My skin lightly flared in electrifying tingles, like ants were walking over every inch of my body at the mere thought of Ma being nearby. Of course, Ma was not making the search process easy; if she had, she would have been written about in the newspapers I scanned through not long ago. The timeframe to find her was wearing thinner, inching closer and closer, much to my distaste. For this, I allowed myself to wallow in my self-imposed misery.

I didn't feel like the right woman for the job. I had felt this way since the proposition was set before me, yet I could not wash the feeling of inadequacy off. For that, I allowed myself to sink further into my misery. Not only was I not the right person for the job, but I also couldn't kid myself into thinking I was the contrary.

Besides the hurdles encountered by being born and raised in the Borderlands, I was no fierce lion. I was more a meek, domestic house cat. Life took me by force, and I was left to pick up the pieces. I was good at it, though — picking up the pieces — but I was never good at deciding where those pieces should go.

A hot tear ran down my cheek, and I fervently swiped it away, tears crowding the corner of my eyes. Frustrated, I huffed in exasperation before ripping my bedsheets off my body. I did not know where I was headed, my body instinctively guiding me out of the Alpha Wing.

Max was nowhere to be seen, but I did not give him a second thought. My heavy, thunderous footsteps echoed throughout the halls as I navigated through the winding hallways.

Within a couple steps, I decided I would walk my surmounting steam off before heading back to bed. After what felt like half an hour, my feet had grown tired, my shoulders drooping, my mind only slightly less active. I was about to shuffle back to the Alpha Wing and admit defeat in fully calming myself down when I saw a dim light protruding out of one of the rooms.

My curiosity was piqued. I knew that while I was out of the Alpha Wing, I was still within a bigger section: the Commanding Quarters. The Commanding Quarters were used for Theo and his trusted advisors — like Flynn and Heath — which meant not many people had access to these hallowed halls.

Cautiously, I sucked in my breath and tip-toed over to the door, where the light was radiating from. The door was slightly ajar. Craning my neck, I peeked into the room.

The room was smaller than I expected — a lowly fireplace dully lit the room. A vintage couch, much like the ones in the Borderlands, was centered with the fireplace. The couch was occupied by a familiar figure. It was occupied by Theo. I could tell by the shadow cast by his sharp jawline, it was him without a doubt.