The Lost Princess

Ashlyn’s 15th birthday almost was here, but she wasn’t excited. Like her 14th and 13th, she would be spending her birthday at Park View house. She was surrounded by strangers again and hoping they wouldn’t touch her.

Ashlyn had been admitted to park view at the tender age of 12 and a half, mustn’t forget the half when her “forever family” Mark and Sandy couldn’t deal with Ashlyn’s nightmares or her visions. And they couldn’t stand the way she hated being touched by people or knew things about them that she shouldn’t.

Once, one of Mark’s best friends came round to help with some DIY around the house; Ashlyn brushed his hand when she handed him a drink. Somehow, she knew he was sick, really sick. She saw him crying in a doctor’s office and heard the doctor tell him that he had cancer. That they didn’t think there was a treatment that would help. Mark was not happy when Ashlyn asked if he was still sad and needed a hug.

Sandy was downright pissed when Ashlyn announced to her reading group that one of Sandy’s friends was pregnant and had been ‘doing rude things’ with another’s husband and that a third was being beaten by her husband.

Though Ashlyn didn’t really think that this was a bad thing to share with the group. She regularly seemed to know who was at the door or when the phone would ring. They had one friend, Dave, the things that man thought about and had done in his life. His memories overwhelmed Ashlyn couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him.

She would run and hide in her wardrobe every time he was in the house, screaming if he came within arm’s length of her or she was forced to be in the same room as him. She could feel the pain of his victims just looking at him. No one ever believed her about him, though Mark and Sandy had to admit it was weird when he was arrested in an investigation into a missing child.

The police found millions of images and videos on his hard drives and phone, the most horrific child abuse imaginable. But the final straw for them was when Ashlyn’s dream, well, nightmare, came true. She dreamt that Sandy’s mother would die in a ball of fire.

Two days later, she was on her way to visit them when she was involved in a massive traffic accident. 7 cars and a lorry, then a fuel tanker hit the back of the pile-up. It all went up in a ball of fire. It took them 3 weeks to formally identify all the bodies involved. Shortly after the funeral, they had her admitted to park view and about 9 months after that, they took in another foster child. They were no longer her carers and didn’t bother to visit anymore.

It had taken her years to realise that if she just took the medications they wanted her to or made it seem that way, they would relax, and she would be able to… just not take them. Ashlyn hated the way the meds made her feel, the way she couldn’t think straight. Then she just had to fake it, fake being “normal” so that they would think she was fixed.

Hopefully, she could get out of this hell, where the answer to Ashlyn being overwhelmed by others’ emotions and touch was to touch her more to restrain her and medicate her.

Unfortunately for Ashlyn, the meds did numb some of the overwhelming feelings, and without them, she could and would melt down. After being restrained, she was regularly left with bruises, even more so if Justin was involved. He got some kind of sadistic pleasure from causing pain to the patients.

Justin was a mid 20’s, 6’0 tall man, built like a rugby player with large, hard, muscular arms and thighs, big round shoulders, and a barrel-like chest that was just as hard as the rest of him. His hair was buzzed, dark brown or black. It was hard to tell. He had cold brown eyes, a nose that looked like it had been broken several times and a thin mouth that never seemed to smile unless someone was hurting or in distress. Unfortunately for Ashlyn, he was part of her care team.

Ashlyn was out in the gardens about a week before her birthday. It was a glorious July day. The sun was bright and warm on her face as she curled up on the swing chair between two trees, far enough from the building to be peaceful but close enough that the staff felt like she was sufficiently supervised. Ashlyn loved to be outside.

She found the breeze, bird song, and even distant traffic noise calming. She loved to have her windows open, even in the middle of winter when it’s bouncing down with rain and hail, thunder and lightning or even snowing. She wished she could sit out in the storms, but they wouldn’t let her. Ashlyn satisfied herself by going out on days like this with her books or sketchpad.

Today she was reading Harry Potter and the philosophers stone again. She didn’t have much choice in books now. She didn’t get visitors to bring her anymore. The ones that belonged to the hospital weren’t in good shape. A couple of staff members would occasionally buy her books. The only person who came anymore was her social worker, Glenn Morris. If she was honest, he was pretty useless for a social worker, but she was stuck with him.

She had been sitting in her usual spot, lost in her book, for about half an hour when it happened. The breeze brought a strange smell, minty, with hints of new book pages and the trees after a storm. She found it strangely relaxing, even if she didn’t know what it was.

The scent was overrunning Ashlyn’s senses relentlessly. She even felt like she could taste it. She couldn’t concentrate on her book at all, and Ashlyn could read through anything. Her eyes were heavy, and she was starting to feel strangely heavy limbed. After about 10 minutes, she stood up, stretching out, her top riding up a little over her waist, revealing a strip of pale skin marked with a couple of random bruises.

She intended to head into the hospital building, which looked reminiscent of the Downtown Abbey house. Her legs, however, seemed to have another plan. She found herself walking into the breeze, further into the garden, following the scent. It was as if her body had decided that she just had to know what it was.

Micah Ward was pacing up and down this stretch of fence at the other end of the large garden. Zander, his wolf, was howling in his head, begging Micah to just jump the fence or break it down, but it was clear that this fence was going nowhere, even with his alpha strength.

Micah thought he could jump it, but he could smell too many humans around to risk being seriously injured here. Even though he was easily 3 times the size, they would mistake him for a wild wolf and likely have him put down; ok, maybe ‘mistake’ is being too generous.

Humans are willfully ignorant of the real world, to Micah’s world, even when it slaps them in the face. That would not be acceptable, not now he knew that his mate was on the other side of this fence. Zander managed to seize control briefly and let out a fierce growl. Micah managed to take back control of their body, even though it was wearing Zander’s wolf form right now. Many human sides couldn’t do this.

Their wolf side would have to give them control, but Micah had always been able to be in power if he wanted after their first shift, he thought it was something to do with him and Zander always being on the same page near enough.

Micah had been looking for his mate since he turned 17, the earliest he should, in theory, feel the mate bond. He was 25 now, and he had found his mate finally; he would truly come into his Alpha powers. He would get an authentic alpha voice and be able to control the pack without his father’s help. He would always want his father’s advice, which was invaluable, but it was different from having to rely on him. Micah had started to give up hope that he would ever find his mate, but it turns out she was being held behind this fence in the human territory neighbouring their land.

Why was she behind this fence? What was this place anyway? Micah could smell that she wasn’t a human; she’s not a wolf either, Zander told him smugly. Micah wasn’t sure what she was, but she smelt like his favourite fruits, strawberries, mango, and pineapple. It was hard to find out much more of her scent with the wind blowing the wrong way now. He had to figure out a way to meet her. He had to at least see her, then he could go and make a plan.

He would come back tomorrow with the whole pack if he needed to and burn this place to the ground to get his mate. She shouldn’t be trapped behind a fence. She should be with him. Micah just about managed to restrain himself from growling again. The questions tumbling around his head, making it hard to think and hard to plan. He needed details, how big was the fence, did it seem to be dug deep in the ground, did the humans seem to be armed? Well, that one was easy. Micah couldn’t smell any guns or oiled metal, so it was unlikely.