My Mate's the Alpha? [Major Editing]

20)I'm Safe

I walk around the place, it’s still so cold. I find a lady walking by, “Um, excuse me, miss…What town and state is this?” She giggled a bit, and I couldn’t help but stare. She had black, graying hair, ice blue eyes, and the pinkest lips I’d ever seen.

“Why, you’re in Minnestota, sweetie. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s June 17.” She smiled. I can’t believe it, my birthday has passed! I swear, when I-

~Avery, Avery, can you hear me?~

~Cole?~

~Yes! Where are you~

~I was told I’m in Minnesota I say meekly.

~I’ll be there in two days tops, keep the kids safe~

I nod, but realize he can’t see me. ~Okay~ By kids, he meant I’m pregnant. Thankfully, pregnant she-wolves don’t get injured as bad at their stomachs, as long as I don’t take an estimated five blows more to my stomach, they will live. I remember a friend living here in Minnesota, so I use my wolf nose to scent her. She lives a couple cities over, so I run as fast as I can. I’m grateful that I never slacked on training.

***

It’s just barely nightfall and I’ve just gotten to the outskirts of the next city. I’ve stopped twice for refreshment, and six times to rest.

~Cole,~ I try.

~Yes?~

~How far away are you?~

~We just reached Arkansas and are still traveling.~

~Cool, goodnight…~ I mumble through the mind-link, drifting to sleep.

But not before Cole said, ~Goodnight, sweetheart.~

I wake up with a start, hearing howling. I get up to start running, but freeze once I see a small dog. I rest for a few minutes more before bolting to the next town, putting more distance between I and Harley.  I push myself, occasionally feeling a kick in my stomach, and let me tell you: You’ve heard stories about woman saying it ‘tickles’ or ‘it feels good’ and shit, but actually, it hurts like a bitch. For werewolves at least. It had only been an hour longer when I needed to eat, so being the human I am, I go behind a tree and Shift to normal and put on the clothes. I jog for a while and eventually find a small little café that is almost out of business. Waling inside, I spot someone I didn’t think I’d see for a while.

“Jeanne, why are you here?” I ask, sitting with her as she drinks her cup of coffee. Jeanne is 448, but she looks barely 47. Her hair hasn’t started to gray, although she’s blind, her eyes a beautiful grey color, almost silver. We age until a specific old age, unlike vampires that don’t age at all, even though they DON’T LIVE!

“Do my ears deceive me? Avery Collins,” she says in a feeble voice.

“Yes, Jeanne,” I smile to myself.

“Well, why’ve you come?”

“I’ve come seeking shelter momentarily. Does your housing still hide scents?” She prefers we speak…formally, or something like that, otherwise, she doesn’t respond.

“Yes, very much so… What is it you run from?”

“Captors, those who lock me up in mind-link proof housings. I’ve escaped, but I know they will soon find me.”

“Give me your estimation,” she says, her voice filled with concern as she looks at me, knowing where I am with her good ears.

“An estimated day…” I say meekly, and she nods.