Chasing Freedom

XXXIII

The fire was burning to a low thrum within Myles' family's cabin, the crackle and hum filtering through Mira's senses. As she took a seat amongst the cushions spread across the floor, Mira's thoughts were somewhere between an orderly and disorderly spiral.

In the wake of everything that had happened, she found that had become her new—not so— normal.

To her lack of surprise, recovering from kidnapping and a sexual assault attempt was rough. In so many ways. Physically, she saw the bruises disappear but mentally, they were always there; he was there. Mira's emotions swung like they were on a pendulum—and it was the smallest of things that set her off. Myles was by her side at all times.

At times, when Mira woke from a nightmare and he was there, ready to offer whatever comfort Mira could tolerate in that moment. Mira would cling to him, the thought of being alone terrifying.

Then there were the other times. When Mira recoiled from Myles' touch in a moment of disassociation between the past and the present.

At night, she found that happened far too often. A hand simply resting on her hip became a bruising, proprietary grip. Fingertips stroking through her hair morphed into a wrenching hold she couldn't escape from. As the days dragged on, Myles ended up spending most nights shifted, the bed barely holding both their weight. On the nights where Mira's thoughts became too spiralled into the past, she slept alone, swaddling herself tightly into blankets. Myles never once made an issue of either scenario. The extra considerations, solely for her benefit, made her feel equal parts guilty, overwhelmed and cherished.

In fact, Mira found that she was never alone. If it wasn't Myles, it was Kiva. If it wasn't Kiva, it was his mother or father; although Mira still felt nervous around her Alpha without Myles there as a barrier. On the whole, their presence made it easier. A pseudo safety net of sorts. For weeks, it remained the case.

Until, eventually, her safety net was no longer viable. Coming up to the inevitable, Mira had been telling herself to brace for it. Still, readjusting to the loss of constant company was a difficult hurdle to face.

To cope, Mira began adapting herself back into normalcy. Small steps. A couple of times a week, she would spend the day with Kiva. Then, she began volunteering within the school again; the children a welcome escape of optimism and brightness.

Little by little, she found her confidence returning.

Now, as she gathered fabric into a bundle, she could feel her pulse start to race. This reminder—the sweat sodden, soiled clothes she'd been found in—of it all was almost too much. Almost. Yet as Mira carelessly tossed them into the flames in a surge of adrenaline, Mira was determined.

She'd kept the clothes close to her, waiting for the right moment. In some ways, it kept her looking over her shoulder. In other ways, it did the opposite. Although she didn't put a time stamp on anything, it kept up the anticipation.

Until now, apparently.

In the moments after she finally threw them, she didn't so much as sit as she did collapse back onto the cushions. Even as quivers began to overwhelm her, she felt a warring, strange sense of catharsis that come over her. Watching the flames lick higher as the clothes begin to burn, she drew in a long breath before exhaling roughly. Visually, it was a lacklustre sigh compared to explosion she was hoping for.

Nevertheless, overcome with emotion all of a sudden, she thought: this was the final step of this all. This was her taking back her own life.

Pillowing her chin on her arms, she glanced at Myles through the glass sliding doors. He was out there, his jacket left behind inside as he went to collect enough fire wood to get them through the night. When Mira had offered to help, he'd vetoed the ideas on the spot, so adamantly Mira had no chance to argue.