Queen Anne's lace - sanctuary
Christmas 2004. Well, it's almost Christmas. It's the 22nd, and 11 year old Cora Hale, can’t wait until it’s finally the weekend, and finally Christmas. However, today she is extra lucky. Her teacher just went home sick an hour before lunch, so she gets to go home early.
What is that smell? Is it smoke? It is. Cora starts running as she realises the smoke is coming from her house. She runs as fast as she can but the closer she gets, the worse the smell gets. Not only that, but the noise. The screams. Even at the distance she’s at, she can clearly hear the agonising screams of her family, her pack. She can hear them over the sounds of the building collapsing, over the sound of fire ruining the house that had gone through storms without ever falling and over the sounds of cars driving away as if the cops are hot on their tail.
Her chest hurts and her eyes burn. She can feel pack bonds snapping, broken. Her vision blurs from the tears, and once again, she runs.
By the time Cora stops running, the sun has gone down. Her legs can’t carry her any further, but at least she made it. The shed her uncle had told her to go hide in if the house wasn’t safe, and the vault at school was unavailable.
It isn’t the best place, but it looks run down enough that no one will look for her here. She hopes. She’s just gonna stay here until someone finds her. Some pack bonds are still whole, she can still feel them. So they can feel hers. And they’ll come find her and she’ll be safe. As long as she stays here until they find her. She can do that. It’ll only be a few hours. That’s all.
She gets as comfortable as she can, and lets sleep take her as the memory of her family burning alive takes control of her dreams.
Three days. It’s been almost three days since she ran to the shed and hid in here. Three days, and no one has come. She’s starving and scared. What is she supposed to do? Is it time for desperate measures? Maybe. She really needs to eat. Her growling stomach reminds her of that. Drastic measures it is.
Cora has no choice but to start walking again. This time, she only has a vague idea of where she’s going. Let’s hope that’s enough.
A house. It smells like wolves, but it doesn’t look big enough to fit a pack. Or is was my pack just huge? Will they even have room for me? What if they turn me away? Where am I gonna go then? Maybe she should just give up now.
As she thinks about leaving, the front door opens. An older woman stands in the doorway, watching her as if she’s a burglar. That must be the alpha.
There was only one thing she could say to convince the strange alpha in front of her into letting her stay. She has to say she needs sanctuary. That she’s Cora Hale, and that her house has been burned down, and she really needs sanctuary. But she can’t get the words out of her mouth. Her throat closes up, and tears well up in her eyes. She just collapses onto her knees in front of the woman, and cries her heart out as the full realisation sinks in. She's alone.
Warmth surrounds her, and a whispering voice fills her ears until she can no longer hear her own sobbing. It’s gonna be okay, it says. You’re gonna be alright. Can I take you inside? The words don’t stop, but the tears do. She allows the alpha to pick her up and she feels like a small child again when the woman does.
For the first time in days, she feels less alone. For the first time in days, she has an alpha near. So for the first time in days, she falls asleep without the screams of her family filling her ears, and without the smell of smoke and burning flesh filling her nose.