Lyra's POV
I ran fast. I ran till I couldn't breathe anymore, but I kept running. I couldn't go to the place that I usually went whenever I was sad, so I just ran, hoping I could run till I just disappeared.
"Why? Why is it always me? Mom and Dad, is this the life you wanted for me when you both left me all alone in this world? I'm suffering so much," I agonized as I ran out of town and into the woods. I was struggling with breathing and talking at the same time. I couldn't think, so I just voiced out all my thoughts. "Where am I even going? Do I have a home outside the sad one I know? At this rate, I am going to be salvaged by rogue wolves."
I kept running, much slower now because I couldn't feel myself passing out. I lost my footing and fell again. Just in front of me, I heard faint country music and saw lights when I opened my eyes. It was a bar.
I got up, dusted my clothes, and went in. It was a quiet bar, with two customers left: a woman and a strange-looking man.
I asked for drinks, and the shots kept coming. I lost track of time. This went on until my vision started to fade to black. I passed out.
******
"Where am I?" I inquired in a faint voice, my throat too parched to produce actual sound. I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling on a soft bed, much better than any bed I've slept on since my parents died.
"Am I dead?" I looked around; the room was beautiful, although it was a cabin. It smelled nice.
I attempted getting off the bed, and I took a bad fall. My legs were numb. My head hurts; I was too weak to make a quick recovery like other wolves. If my injuries were too serious, I'd die.
The thud my fall made was incredibly loud and ended up catching someone's attention. "Oh, you're awake. I didn't hear you," a man who sat across the room said.
I couldn't actually see him due to the fact that I had fallen so badly and couldn't move my neck. The voice was an unfamiliar one.
"Wait, I'll help you up. Try not to move, okay?" The voice said, I couldn't help the feeling of anxiety as I heard his boots thud against the wooden floor boards, coming towards me. I closed my eyes.
"There's no need to be afraid; I'm not going to hurt you." He reassured me, almost like he knew what I had been through and what was going through my mind.
I kept silent; his warm hands carried me gently and placed me on the bed. I adjust my pillow before positioning my neck so it doesn't hurt me.
"You can open your eyes; it's fine. I don't bite; I'm not going to hurt you. "His voice felt like the sensation of honey on the tongue; sweet is how it sounded. More soothing than anything I've heard in my life.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and gazed upon his face. His piercing, inquisitive eyes were staring holes through me, like he was trying to figure it out. I felt a thousand questions coming from his eyes.
This stranger had distinct features; I couldn't quite make out his face due to the lighting in the room and how I felt stressed.
"Where am I? Who are you?" I asked again, trying to be more vocal this time than the last time.
"You're in my cabin. I'm just a stranger who picked you up. I found you passed out in the bar; the rogue wolves would have torn you apart if I didn't step in," he said, giving me what seemed like a smile, but my vision was still too distorted to see.
"You saved my life. You have my thanks." I said, trying to sit up, before he helped me sit up and positioned the pillow behind me.
"Where do you come from?" he suddenly asked. I didn't give him an answer; I stayed silent.
"I see, you don't want to talk about it. Well, why did you run away?" he inquired again.
"Who says I ran away?" My voice broke as I spoke. I could feel the tears making their way out of my eyelids again.
"I didn't need anyone to tell me. Messy make-up, no shoes, torn dress. You definitely ran away," he concluded. This made me start crying again. I was so caught up in how I got here that I had forgotten about the occurrences that took place at the palace earlier that night.
"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, looking away. He was sure to notice that I was crying if I had looked in his direction.
"I get that you don't feel like sharing, but I have one more question. Why aren't you healing? Your body was fragile while I carried you. Your limbs are as good as lifeless now. Are you human?" he inquired, gently grabbing my chin and turning my face towards himself.
That question struck me like an arrow. It was a question I didn't like to be asked. "I am not human; I am a werewolf," I replied, avoiding eye contact with him.
"Why didn't you just shif—oh, I see. You're an omega," he guessed.
"I guess you've figured me out. Are you going to start beating me too? Are you abusing me like the rest of the people in my life, calling me worthless?" I said it silently, but the expression on his face confirmed that he heard everything I said.
"You're going to die if we don't do something about your injuries," he said, standing up and pacing around the room.
"What do you mean by that?" I inquired; by now, the tears had already stopped falling. I didn't have tears left to spill.
"Your injuries will make it hard for you to move; I can't follow you into your pack territory, so you'll have to go alone. I need to heal you," he said. The words sounded like he struggled to say them.
"Do you practice magic?" I moved back, almost crawling into the wall.