slept fitfully even though I had little reason to complain. My bullet hole—a flesh wound only—had long since been cleaned, and members of both my pack and Wolfie's were now spread out across soft beds in the adjoining hotel rooms. We were all safe and alive and together.
Well, not quite together. Hours earlier, pack mate after pack mate had invited me to join them in a post-battle jumble of furry limbs. But it hadn't felt right to bed down with other shifters when the network of incandescent filaments that bound us together as a cohesive whole had been severed by my own free will.
So I thanked each friend but declined their advances. And, one by one, my companions had acceded to my wishes and left me alone. But now, isolated in my solitary den, I dreamed of a deep, dark hole in the ground. I dreamed of Quill ripping the still-beating heart out of Lia's chest. And I dreamed of the agony in Hunter's eyes when I'd cast my mate out of the pack two mornings prior.
Only when a warm, furry body leapt up onto the bed beside me did I finally jolt out of my fitful drowsing. There was no need to open my eyes as the heavy weight settled into the hollow between knees and stomach. Instead, I simply smelled sassafras with a hint of agitated spring water and knew I was safe.
The thread of sound that I realized was my own whimpering eased as Hunter shifted into human form just long enough to pull me up against his long, lean body. "Shhh," he whispered, stroking my hair. "I'm here."
I meant to open my eyes and respond. But, instead, my mate's soft puffs of breath tickling against the inside of my ear lulled me into a slumber as deep as the one I'd enjoyed when my wolf took the lead during our game of hide and seek a few hours earlier. With Hunter at my side, I could finally let go. But my mate was gone when I woke again, this time to late morning sunlight streaming through my window. Instead of the uber-alpha, a red-haired bombshell perched on the edge of my bed. Ginger was fully clad this morning and just as perfectly coiffed as ever. Looking at her now, in fact, I was pretty sure the trouble twin hadn't so much as chipped a fingernail while single-handedly tearing Mick to shreds the night before. She'd looked like a raging beast when I first reached her side, her worry over Lia's safety completely squashing her usual civilized facade of humanity. But the essence of sure-of-herself pack princess had since returned with a vengeance.
I breathed a sigh of relief that lasted...oh, about as long as it took for my companion to open her mouth. "Wolfie says the pack bond might regrow," Ginger told me without preamble, raising one eyebrow as she waited impatiently for my response. I was barely awake. My mouth tasted like old socks, and my throat was as dry as a desert ravine. But, okay, it looked like we were really going to get into this here and now. "What are you trying to say, Ginger?" I croaked out.
"I'm saying," she began, deleting the mitigating word that held no place on her tart tongue, "that we can still be a pack. I know you want to ditch us, to tell us to move back in with our old clan. But that's not happening. Once you're all healed up and ready to go, we're coming right along with you."
"Coming with me where?" I asked gently. "Coming with me to wander through outpack territory hoping we won't get
snatched up by another sociopath who thinks halfies make good appetizers to prepare the palate for a pack-princess lunch? Coming with me to watch your cousin traumatized all over again?"
I knew I'd struck a nerve when Ginger glanced aside, and I smiled grimly at my success. I wanted our clan to remain united as much as anyone. But it was time for us both to face reality. Whether or not I'd been a capable alpha in the past, I no longer boasted the strength necessary to lead us to safety.
So, risking getting slapped, I reached out with my right hand and slid workmanlike digits between the trouble twin's slender fingers. "I appreciate your loyalty," I told her. "But without the alpha mantle, it's just not safe for me to drag Lia around hither and yon any longer."
My unoccupied left hand tightened unconsciously around the envelope that Wolfie had dropped off in my room the night before. Truth be told, I wasn't actually going to be wandering aimlessly once my bullet wound healed. But Ginger didn't need to know that right away.
Not when my goal was for her to accept responsibility for her own safety and for that of our shared friends. To let our pack drift apart as organically as the threads that once bound us together had disintegrated into the summer air the afternoon before.
"Then ask Hunter to let you move back into Haven," Ginger demanded, ice-blue eyes flashing. She wasn't willing to let the issue drop and my throat tightened as I realized the trouble twin really did care about me as a friend, not
just as a crush. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought up my mate's ability to reverse the decree that had kicked me out of Wolfie's pack in the first place. No, her words now were as much of a show of acceptance as I'd ever get for letting the uber-alpha into my life and my heart.
Still, Ginger's suggestion—while the easy way out— wasn't the right solution. "I could," I agreed. "But I won't."
"You won't?" Ginger leapt to her feet, unable to sit still any longer now that anger filled her body with unharnessed potential. She paced from bed to door and back again. "You won't ask him for one little favor to make your life better? He'd give it to you in heartbeat."
"I would."
The deep male voice carried easily through the closed door and I smiled. Ginger had clearly begged my mate for a minute alone with me. But while Hunter had been willing to step away from my bedside, the uber-alpha hadn't gone far.
I was glad. So I spoke to them both when I answered. "I know he would," I said. "But back when Hunter kicked me out of Haven in the first place, he realized I needed that nudge if I was ever going to flee my safe but constraining little nest. He said I'd thank him for it later, and he was right. This is me thanking you, Hunter, for helping me learn who I really am. Or at least for prodding me into taking the first step in that direction."
Then I turned my attention back to the girl who had sunken down onto the bed beside me once more. The girl who had been a true friend, even if a little scattershot with her emotions. "But you don't need to remain a part of Wolfie's pack forever," I told her. "If anyone in our little clan had the potential to grow into an alpha's abilities, it was you. So rest and regroup...and then spread your wings and fly."
It was true. Ginger had led our fur-form hunts for a reason—she possessed the strength of will necessary to turn a group of independent-minded werewolves into a cohesive pack. Once she matured a little and learned to mind her tongue and passions, the teenager would become a powerful alpha. I was proud to think I'd had a small hand in her growth...even if it meant losing a friend and pack mate in the process. I think we were both crying a little when Ginger hugged me one last time. "Okay," she muttered. Then, eyes flashing, she landed one last peck on my lips before flouncing out the door and into her future. My mate growled at the twin's forwardness but otherwise held his peace. Watching her go, I knew that Ginger would be fine. She'd have Cinnamon at her back, and Lia would remain her full- time project until the younger girl overcame any post- traumatic stress developed as a result of her imprisonment. Maybe they'd even form a clan of their own some day.
Still, the hole in my gut felt cavernous as my mate slipped in through the entranceway that the trouble twin had left gaping wide open. "What will you do next?" he asked, pushing the door closed behind him. I swallowed down my sorrow, then flourished the envelope I'd hidden beneath the covers to keep it away from Ginger's keen nose and eyes. "Wolfie brought me a note from my mom last night," I told him. "From the parent I haven't seen in twelve years. The human who couldn't stand the thought of living among werewolves and who was willing to orphan her daughter if that's what it took to get out from under the beasts' terrifying thumbs."
The uber-alpha's nostrils flared as I spoke and his hands closed into fists. One of these days, I was going to have to learn what it was about halfies and their human parents that pushed his buttons.
But my mate quickly squelched his own emotions, sinking down into the spot that was still warm and indented in the shape of Ginger's well-padded bum. "Go on," he said, his fingers trailing up my arm as if he couldn't quite manage to keep his hands off me when we were in such close proximity.
I didn't mind. I felt the same way.
Still, I needed that appendage free in order to pull the invitation out of its envelope. So I shifted over to lean against my mate's broad chest instead, managing not to sever our connection even as I extricated my arm from his light caress. Despite now possessing two working hands, I nearly couldn't pull the small black card out of its sheath because my fingers were shaking so violently. The paper boasted silver lettering and ornamentation that shone against the dark background like a wedding invitation turned on its head. There was my mother's name and my father's, a date, a time, a place.
A little line drawing of a gravestone.
"I've been invited to my father's funeral," I told Hunter. "And I think I really have to go."
The End