PART TWO: Auxilium (Help) - - TEN - Auxilium

PART TWO: Auxilium (Help)

Eighteen years later.

POV - Lillia

I looked over at mum as we continued to drive down the state highway. It’s dark, and she has yet to tell me exactly where to go, but I see an intersection coming up, and I’m trying to decide which way to turn once I get there.

Mum’s been like, take this road to the end and then turn left, or take the next right after passing four rights. But never an exact destination. We have one phone between us, and no wi-fi, we could never afford one, and she’s asleep right now. I know we’re heading north. We left the cities a long time ago. We veered across the country for a while before she said, ‘oops, we should have gone left.’ That was the last instruction she gave me.

So yeah, I’m driving blind. I took a left and headed north as much as possible, trying to keep in the same direction. But I wonder if I’ve been turned around. For all I know, I could be driving in circles.

On either side of the road lay forests, but as the intersection approaches ahead, I feel truly lost.

I pull our old Toyota to the side of the road and park it between some brushes and the forest’s edge. I wind the window down slightly, turn off the lights and engines and climb into the back seat to get some sleep myself. It will be daylight soon, and I know my mum will take over as soon as she wakes up.

I didn’t notice straight away that she was sick. We both worked for the pack, mum in the kitchens for the packhouse and their adjoining restaurant and me as one of the packhouses’ maids. So, I didn’t notice when she came home more tired than usual. I mean, we were both exhausted, and Alpha Warwick drove his omegas hard. Pack hierarchy meant we were the lowest members in the pack. We didn’t get time off.

But then I noticed she wouldn’t make it to the toilet block in time, bringing buckets next to the bed for the nights she spent vomiting. She started to take time off due to her sickness. Her sickness filled me with worry, but something I couldn’t do anything about.

As a lowly omega, I had to step up. I spent my evenings in the kitchen helping the other omegas cook, and then we would serve, clean up and prepare for the morning rush. Because our pack had a restaurant on street level, open to the public, I often worked there and waitressed on the weekends.

It was hard work, and I didn’t get paid as much as the oblivious humans who worked with me, but it helped put food on the table and buy resources for school.

Every now and then, mum seemed to be on the mend and happier. But it wasn’t until she began to lose her hair that I couldn’t be my selfish teenage self anymore. I remember her sitting me down at the dining table in our caravan as if it was yesterday.

“Lillia, I’m not well,” she had begun. I tried interrupting her and saying I knew, but she raised her hand.

“I’ve been sick for a while. Tired. Sore. I went to the pack doctor a few months ago and had some tests done. I’ve got cancer.”

The word, ‘cancer,’ makes me cry still.

//\\//\\//\\

“Mum, is this it?” I ask, driving down a road where I see a gate ahead.

“Saucepan Man,” mum mumbles in response.

“What?” I ask, but she doesn’t respond. She stopped doing chemo a couple of months ago when the human doctors told me it wasn’t working. This was her second round of chemo, and it devastated me to see her so unwell. We ran out of human medicine yesterday, and I only hope that wherever we’re headed, they can help her.

I look over and see mum slumped in her seat, and I curse under my breath. I drive to the gate and wait as a man walks up to our car and knocks on the window. Frack. I could just go through if I floored the gas, and he couldn’t do anything. I feel so helpless.

I wind down the window and gulp. The guard’s eyes change colour and go dark, which can only mean one thing, werewolf.

“State your business?” the werewolf asks gruffly. I feel like a piece of gum stuck on his shoe with how he looks at me.

“I’m here to see my grandfather….” I stutter, noticing he’s just sniffed our scents through the window.

“IDs, please?” the guard asks. I must have given him a blank look when he sighs. This is the second person in as many days that’s asked for my ID. It’s odd. I fumble through my wallet and hand him my student card. It’s the only identification I have. The guard looks at it, shaking his head before giving it back.

“Password?” he then asks.

“What?” I ask. I’m stumped. Wasn’t my license enough?

“Password,” he repeats a bit more gently.

“Uh, Saucepan man?” I ask. I have no idea what this means, but the man is about to say something when he takes a step back, his eyes glazing over. I watch as he walks away, knowing he’s linking someone, and I begin to feel stressed.

My palms sweat, and my knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel. I hadn’t felt this nervous since a few days ago when we were pulled over by a human traffic cop. I don’t have my driver’s license, although I know how to drive. Mum and I couldn’t afford the cost. But when the cop asked if everything was okay, and not for my license, I left with relief.

The wolf approaches my window again, and I hold my breath, bracing for the worst.

“Drive down Rubrum Lane and take a right at the end. There should be parking in front of the entrance,” he says. I nod, pressing the button to wind my window up again. Before I put the car back into drive, I let go of the breath I was holding in.

This is it. I think we’re here, putting my foot down and slowly driving through the open gates.

Rubrum Lane is longer than it appears. I try to concentrate and keep my nerves at bay as we pass houses that become denser, from stand-alone houses to duplexes and then townhouses. I take a right at the end like I was told and find a park close to a sign that reads ‘Service Entrance.’

“Mum, we’re here,” I say, looking at my mother, who is still slumped in her seat.

“Mum,” I say a bit louder, but she doesn’t respond again.

“Mum, we’re here,” I yell, shaking her.

“Oh, good,” she says, slowly moving to unbuckle herself and open the door. I get out of my side and pocket the keys, running over to mum’s side before she falls onto the ground.

Mum has deteriorated much more quickly these past few days, she’s become weaker, and I feel awful for her because I’ve had to help her with some of her most basic hygiene routines to help her take care of herself.

“I got you,” I say as she falls into my arms. Lucky mum’s not that heavy. She has lost a lot of weight, but I still find carrying her difficult. I’m still young, so I still need to get my wolf, and I’m also shorter than her.

“Mum,” I say as I wrap her arm around my neck and my arm around her waist, “mum, we’re here,” I say. We’d finally talked last night about where we were going and who to ask for. Mum only told me last night that we were near her father’s pack and that that was where we had been heading all along. She told me she wanted to die with her dad near her. A tear rolls down my face as I think of that conversation. Mum never spoke of her home pack or my grandparents. I knew nothing. I always thought we were born and bred omegas of Urban Wolves.

We stumble towards the door, and somehow, I open it with one hand while holding mum up with the other.

The room is small. To one side is a desk with a receptionist sitting idly, painting her nails, and to the other is a row of chairs for visitors. I sit mum on a seat, and she smiles at me weakly.

“Hi,” I say, walking over to the she-wolf at the front desk. The she-wolf looks at me absently before returning to her fingers.

“Um, I’m here to see….” I say, turning to look at my mum. All I know is that we’re here to be with her dad.

- Brent Redclaw – mum links me, weakly smiling at me.

“Brent Redclaw,” I continue, looking at the woman, who looks to be in her early twenties.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, not bothering to look at me.

“Um, no… but we’ve been travelling for days and….”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t see Alpha Brent without an appointment,” the young woman smirks, finally looking at me. I watch her eyes take me in, deducting value as she scans me.

“Please, we’ve travelled for days,” I plead. The she-wolf shakes her head. I feel like I want to collapse. I’m exhausted. All I want is to have a decent meal and sleep somewhere that’s not the car. I hear a thump and turn to see that mum has fallen on the ground.

“Mum!” I yell, running over to her. I check her pulse, which is weak and then check if she is breathing before rolling her into the recovery position.

“Please help!” I yell at the girl, who looks like she doesn’t know what to do.

Four big men come running through the door and look at us.

“What is all this yelling?” the taller one asks.

“Please help my mother,” I plead again, looking at the men.

“Why are you here?” the same man asks me.

“My mum is from this pack. She wanted to see her father again before she died,” I sulk, holding my mums’ hand. The tall man, who radiates power, looks at the man next to him and nods. The man beside him picks my mum up and walks away with her.

I try to follow but am stopped by the taller man.

“Who is your mums’ father?” he asks.

“Where are you taking my mum?” I reply, trying to walk past him. He grabs my arm but quickly drops it, giving me a strange look.

“Where are you taking my mum?” I ask again, trying to push past him.

“Who is your mums’ father?” the tall man asks, a little more softly this time.

“Brent Redclaw, I think. Please, where have you taken my mum?”

~

Edited with Grammarly