Fated (To Be Yours), Anaya Phoenix [best free ereader .txt] 📗

She revved the engine, making the purr of the engine grow loud and the wind fly around. She was on the run again, this time it was personal. She’d been in New York for the past three years. Of course she’d killed people, accidentally, but she managed to keep a low profile. And she’d only killed the people who needed to be killed. Rapists, murderers, pedophiles. Sure, she knew that wouldn’t redeem her, but at least the sick bastards got what they deserved. She gave a little grunt of laughter and leaned forward on the Harley, she’d had the beauty when she first ran. She could still remember her first run. She’d been 10, and she’d been in love with the cutest boy. His name was Evan Taylor. He was the hottest thing that she’d ever lad her little fourth grade eyes on. And she was hyped when he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She remembered she’d had so much energy and excitement.
Then she remembered when he went so still, like his lips were permanently stuck to the side of her face. She leaned back and shrieked in horror when she saw that his eyes had gone completely black and his face had gone completely pale. Everyone came, everyone reacted to her scream, and they all saw her face. They all saw his face, but there was only one that stuck out to her. Her best friend, Thomas Greene. Thomas was like the peanut butter to her jelly, anything that she couldn’t write in her diary, she’d tell him, there wasn’t anyone else to tell. All the other kids at the orphanage didn’t talk to her, and the adults only talked to her out of pity.
She knew why there was pity; she was the pretty brunette with the green eyes that no other kid talked to. Yet she took it all in stride, she loved the attention, craved it. But at that moment, knowing that she’d probably killed this boy, she didn’t want it. Thomas had shaken his head, telling her not to run. Telling her that, somehow, they would fix it and find out what happened. But she couldn’t stay, this little boy had just died and it was her fault. She couldn’t stay. She ran out of the little circle that had been closing down on her and ran straight to the orphanage. She couldn’t stay. She packed her bags with tears running down her face. Miss Mary wasn’t there, the whole orphanage seemed empty. She thought it was mocking her. It was empty and alone, mocking the rest of her life. She’d run to the bus stop and managed to blend in with the people. She couldn’t stay.
Ever since then she’d been on the run. Though her life had grown completely dangerous. When she turned thirteen she had to find somewhere to work. She was perfectly fine living at the orphanage in Montana, but when day when she’d woken up and taken her shower she’d noticed something. Her eyes, once green and vibrant, were now black. They were black pools, just as Evan’s had been. At first she’d been freaked, nearly fainted, but then she’d pulled herself together. It just meant the she had to get out. She’d stolen some money from the head of the orphanage and bought her several pairs of green contacts. Now here she was. Running away again, but this time it was different. This time she was running back home. Back to South Carolina. The warm air wrapped around her like a blanket and she smiled at the warm feeling. It’d been so long since she’d been warm. Every place she’d ran to had been cold. She slowed a little as she shit the town, marveling at how it seemed untouched by time. Everything was the same. There were still penny stores; there were still candy shops, hell the old milkshake place was still there. The milkshake place was like a communication center for all things cool. It still had it’s retro words etched onto it, it’s white paint was still there only a bit dulled. She smiled warmly as she pulled up on the sidewalk to the milkshake place. Carly’s was what the place was called. She loved how it just rolled off her tongue like old times. Getting off her motorcycle she looked around. No one would recognize her, she’d changed so much. Her hair was the same color; it was just longer and curlier. Her body was curvier, and she had put on a bit of weight. But moving from place to place doesn’t leave you much time to be health conscious. She stretched in her cropped leather jacket and rolled her neck. Ok Molly, time to face your demons; she thought with a small cynical smile as she entered the place.
The small trill of the bell greeted her and almost all conversation stopped. She took of her sunglasses and put them in her pocket and walked to the counter.
“Can I have a strawberry shake?” she asked, her silky voice rolling in waves off her tongue. The girl smiled, nodded, and walked off somewhere to fix it. She sat down on the stool and folded her arms. Just like old times. Conversation slowly started around her and she relaxed.
“I don’t want to ask her, you ask her!” she heard someone hiss and she cocked her head to the side softly.
“Why not, you chicken?” another voice challenges, and she heard the little smile in her voice.
“Why don’t you do it then?” the male hissed and she smiled softly. She didn’t know why people were trying to avoid her, but she thought it was cute.
“I will do it.” The female said and the air behind her moved.
“Excuse me miss?” the female asked and she turned around to meet grey ones.
“My friend and I were just wondering,” her friend snorted in his cherry red booth but she continued on “you look oddly familiar. Do we know you?” get out, get out now! Screamed her veins, but she effectively pushed it down and put on a light, polite smile.
“You shouldn’t, I just moved here from up north.” She said, keeping that smile pasted on her face, her story making sense with her thick accent.
“Oh, we went up there not too long ago, that’s probably where we remember you from.” The girl came back with her strawberry shake and Molly reached for it.
“Probably.” She said before taking a slurp of her milkshake.
“Sorry for the interruption.” The girl said, noticing the end of the conversation, and slinked back to her booth. Boy was it glad to be back.


Thomas Greene was what you would call a hard worker. He’d worked hard every day of his life just to fit in, he worked hard to have money in his pocket, he worked hard to keep the pack safe. Because, as alpha of the Leron pack, there really wasn’t an option to not work. His life had been a pretty crappy one. But it hadn’t always been. The first day his life went to hell in a hand basket was after she left. After she left, it was like the whole world had come crashing down on him. And that was a heavy burden to bear when your only 10. Hell, it was a heavy burden to bear now. But he didn’t complain. He took everything with his chin held high, and fierceness in his heart.
But that didn’t mean nothing hurt. When his mom died he hurt like hell, he’d wanted someone to comfort him but he’d known that would never come. Alphas didn’t need to be coddled; they needed to be brave and strong. He’d cried the first time, yes he would admit that, but never did he cry again. And not a single tear was shed after that. Yes he struggled but he always rose victorious, always remained above the others. Always remained alpha. As he looked around his single room studio he felt a little deflated. It seemed so empty. Of course he had furniture; everything he owned was either black or white. Like his black leather couch, and his white fur rug. But it just seemed… lifeless. But then again everything had seemed lifeless since after that day. He could still remember it if he closed his eyes; and that’s exactly what he did. He was watching her from afar; he’d always done that just to make sure she was safe, when the kid kissed her. A rage so large made his vision go red, she was his. And nobody was to touch her. It was a law, actually, that no one was to touch the alpha female. That was basically like forfeiting your life. So he watched, with smug satisfaction, as the boy paid for what he did. But he hadn’t intended for her to freak. When she leaned back and saw his face, her shriek scratched the insides of his brain; he knew he’d lost her. He was one of the first responders and he ran to her. She’d begun crying as she looked from the kid to him. He shook his head slightly, trying to tell her it wasn’t what she thought it was she hadn’t killed him.
But the horror in her eyes brokered no sign of realizing it. When she ran everyone let her, not stopping her as she ran out of his life. He had looked up to his classmates, his packmates, with anger and sadness.
“I’ll call your parents’.” The teacher had said, but that didn’t mean anything to him. Molly was gone and she’d probably never be back. He didn’t care if his parents’ had anything to say, only thing he knew was that his mate was gone, and she’d probably never return.


Driving on the motorcycle she marveled at how some things had changed. New buildings went up, more stores had come in and there was more than one pub. She’d driven until her mind told her it would be best if she could find somewhere to sleep. She drove until she found a motel and paid the man for one single bed room. She seemed to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the stiff pillow. She was awoken later on by birds chirping and a knock on the door, stating it was room service. She’d gotten up, made the bed, gathered her minimal belongings and left. If she knew the town, which she’d hoped she did, than McFurly’s should still be there. McFurly’s was the best place to eat a nice sized burger with fries and a chocolate malt and just have a good time. And she was counting on McFurly’s to do just that, give her a good time. As she walked into the food place she froze immediately, the place was packed. Sure there were a couple of seats, but that wasn’t her only problem. The place was packed with her old school mates. Her heart immediately started beating faster and her palms went all sweaty, she wiped them on her denim jeans and tried to soothe her heart. She wasn’t going to leave, sure she wasn’t going to face them, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to leave. That would be the same as being a punk, and if there was one thing she was not, it was a punk.
Taking a deep breath she went to one of the stools and sat down. So far so good, no one had recognized her. Maybe they completely forgot about her, one could only wish though when it came to her life. When the serve came up to her though, she knew immediately that was not the case. No one had forgotten about her, everyone still remembered her as the girl who killed a 10 year old little