Talia's POV

I swiped my hair away from my face, smearing blood through the tangled strands.

I didn't give a damn, my feet pounding the pavement like they had a mind of their own as I fled. "I'm so fucking stupid," I muttered, over and over again as I resisted the urge to hit myself.

What had I been thinking, taking down a soldier from another pack? Did I really think I could outrun the consequences? My lungs burned, my muscles screamed for mercy, but I kept pushing, adrenaline and panic fueling my every step.

I ducked into the shadows behind a house, gulping air like it was water, and yanked my shirt over my head, using it to wipe the sticky blood from my hands before tossing it aside like a useless rag.

People shot curious glances my way as I sprinted past, but no one looked terrified, no one pursued me. Either Vermont hadn't discovered the body yet, or he was playing it cool, holding off on putting out the kill order. I was betting on the former, killing a soldier was a death sentence in any pack, and if the killer was an outsider like me, the punishment was public stoning.

Just the thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.

I plunged into the woods, dropping to my knees on the leaf-strewn earth, heaving like I'd run a marathon.

I was parched, starving, and desperate for water so I tracked the sound of a running stream until I found it, but an old woman was there, scrubbing clothes on a rock, her eyes narrowing as she sensed me.

She turned, took one look at me, and shook her head with a disapproving hiss. "You young ones are always warned about killing animals in these woods, but do you ever listen?" She went back to her washing, muttering under her breath.

Suddenly it clicked why the people back there had just stared like I was invisible, they thought I'd been hunting, not killing a person. A twisted sort of luck, maybe, but I wasn't complaining. I eyed the old woman warily; did she buy the hunting story too?

"You seem like you're going somewhere urgently, where? And what happened to the animal you killed?" the elderly woman asked, turning to face me fully, still perched on the stone by the stream, her eyes sharp with curiosity like she could sniff out a secret.

I hesitated, scrambling for a plausible lie, "My brother's pissed I killed it," I said, shrugging like it was no big deal, hoping she'd buy it.

The woman stood up, groaning a little as her back cracked. "Running from home's stupid, especially in the dead of night. Come on, you can stay at my place till morning. I'll dig out some clean clothes for you, then in the morning, I'll take you back home and speak to your brother." She packed her dry clothes into the bucket and started walking, expecting me to follow like I was a stray she'd decided to take in.

I was hungry, she was old, and I wouldn't stay long, just an hour or two before I slipped away, what harm could an elderly woman who could barely walk do?

I trailed after her, taking the bucket from her hands as she limped along the narrow path leading to a tiny hut tucked near the roadside.

Inside, she pointed me to a rickety stool, "Sit," she said, bustling around as she dried her clothes with a practiced air, then led me into the house.

I waited in the cramped sitting room, listening to her shuffle into her room and emerge a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes, "These belonged to my daughter, she's married, living it up in town with her husband," she said with a proud smile, handing me the stack. "Bathroom's down the hall. Freshen up, then you can eat some dinner. You look starved." She wandered off like she was satisfied I'd do as told, leaving me standing there feeling a mix of gratitude and wary curiosity.

**

After I showered, I dried off quickly and slipped into the clothes, they fitted surprisingly well, like they'd been tailored for my curves, and I felt almost human again as I padded back down the hall to the dining area where the scent of sizzling steak and cooked pasta hit me, making my stomach growl louder. "Sit down," The woman pointed to a chair and I settled in, my plate heaped higher than hers.

I dug in like a starving wolf, shoving spoons of pasta in my mouth and barely chewing before I swallowed, the flavors bursting on my tongue. The woman watched me, her eyes a little wide, a mix of amusement and concern etched on her face, "Poor child, when was the last time you had a decent meal?" she asked softly, looking like she wanted to pull me into her laps and comfort me.

I choked out a reply, my mouth still stuffed, "I don't...know...probably yesterday." Her expression turned sad, "Oh dear, you know I have a son...you remind me of him. You eat like him and I think he'll really like you. What part of town are you from? Do you have a mate?" she asked, popping a piece of steak into her mouth like she was savoring the thought of matchmaking.

I almost choked on my food, was she seriously trying to set me up with her son? A random woman covered in blood she'd met in the woods? I laughed awkwardly, "Oh, I'm fine being single...my mate didn't want me," I said like it was a casual thing, trying to brush it off, but her lips turned even sadder like she pitied me.

"Then that's perfect, don't go tomorrow. You can stay with me. My son got me one of those human things you use to talk to people, I'll call him tomorrow and you both can talk, and meet up...he'll like you and give you a beautiful place to stay," she nodded like she was satisfied with herself.

I wanted to stop her, tell her I wasn't interested in meeting her son, that I had other plans, like getting the hell out of this pack before sunrise, but I kept my mouth shut. She'd taken me in, fed me, clothed me...the least I could do was let her have her hopeful delusions. I'd be gone in a few hours anyway.

After dinner was done, I cleared the plates into the kitchen and washed them, the warm water soothing my hands as I scrubbed away the remnants of the meal.

I returned to the dining area where she was waiting for me, her needles clicking away as she knitted. She glanced up at me with expectant eyes when I walked in. "You can call me Abena, what's your name child?" she hummed, her gaze filled with curiosity.

I hesitated, feeling a mix of unease, "I think I should leave, ma'am...thank you so much for the food and clothes," I said, trying to edge towards the exit, but her brow furrowed like she'd anticipated my attempt to bolt.

"Nonsense! You're having a full night's sleep. And if you won't meet my son, that's fine...but I'm not letting you leave in the dead of night," she waved her knitting needle around like a tiny warning, and I sighed knowing she wasn't someone to take no for an answer easily.

So I followed her up the creaky steps till we got to a very narrow hallway with two doors facing each other. "That was my daughter's room, she visits more often so I can't let you stay in hers...but this is my son's," she opened the door and walked in with a little smile on her face like she was showing off a treasure.

"We moved in here when the kingdom came under attack...it was an awful time," she said softly, her eyes clouding like the memories still hurt. "I lost my husband in that war...and my son was never the same after that. He became cruel as a little boy and it was like some kind of demon had infested him. Four years ago, he lost his mate and he only got worse after that," she sniffed gently, smoothing the bed like she was touching a part of her son. "My days left aren't long...it's why I want him to meet a decent lady and settle down," she wiped her cheeks discreetly and walked out of the room without another word.

I didn't like how guilty I felt after; she was just a harmless woman desperately trying to make her son happy and normal, and I couldn't blame her for that.

I looked around the boyish-looking room that was sparsely decorated and I couldn't help but feel bad for the innocent child who had once lived there, lost and changed by grief.

I let out a heavy sigh and collapsed onto the bed, my mind drifting to thoughts of meeting Abena's son as sleep slowly pulled me in; falling in love with him and living happily ever after like a fairy tale. But I knew that was impossible now that I'd committed not just murder, but an unforgivable kind.