The old man didn’t stop talking. “We’ve never considered using the trees, but why not? It’s not as if the tribe has the strength and agility to move between them as we do. I believe you were the muse for the strategy.”
I leaned down to pat Axel. “Sascha crept up on me one day. I leaped into the tree.”
The tribe had nothing against that kind of strategy. All our ground traps would be void. With the Luthers’ stealth, we’d be easy pickings.
The head team wouldn’t see it coming.
Fuck.
“It’s time to find your mother,” I said to the pup. “I have a date.”
He cast me a baleful look.
“We can play again soon. I promise.”
The pup rested a paw on the saxophone.
“If I hear that you’re being good for your mother, we can look at the instrument another time.”
Axel yipped.
I hummed. “I can’t understand you, big pup. Could you tell me another way?”
He flopped to the ground, huffing.
The old man didn’t shift his attention from the stream. “Goodbye, young wolf.”
I had to find out who this guy was ASAP. He was actively trying to screw things up for the pack via me—and that pissed me off. “Bye, old wolf.”
After dropping off Axel to a grateful Jemma, I ambled between the bungalows turning over the fisherwolf’s information.
Using the trees would shift the game in Timber from an even match to a total landslide.
Why does that wolf keep coming back? I asked Booker.
Who cares? Just use the information.
I don’t like pack members disrespecting Sascha like that.
Then tell Sascha.
If I told Sascha, they’d prepare for counterattacks from the stewards.
No one was around.
Sighing, I drew out my phone.
Wade.
I have more info.
Three dots appeared.
She ignored your last tip, baby girl.
This will just get you hurt.
And what about Sascha?
I swallowed back guilt. He’d hit the nail on the head. No matter that Sascha had accepted my position and priorities, I couldn’t deny what felt right and wrong.
Every move feels like the wrong one, I told my wolf.
Something has to be done. The distance between you and Sascha is growing, not lessening.
Exactly. I don’t understand why though.
You do.
Well, I had an inkling now. I thought moving to pack lands gave us a future, but the game ending ensures we won’t.
You want a future with him.
I did. So fucking much. That’s why I’m trying.
I’d taken measures to become closer to the pack, but nothing diminished the loyalty I felt for the tribe. I’d expected to feel more allegiance to the pack as time went on, but if anything, I felt more torn.
I didn’t want either side to lose.
The only solution I could think of is that the game would go on and on endlessly.
Booker was a separate entity within me. Her feelings didn’t get in the way of what I couldn’t always admit to myself. Several times in the past, she’d forced me to confront hard realisations. Tell me what I need to hear, please.
One other scenario ends with happiness for you and Sascha.
A lump rose in my throat. That’s impossible.
She didn’t disagree.
For good reason.
Steeling myself, I texted Wade.
We need to go through Pascal this time.
Here’s what you need to tell her.
7
I gestured at my jean cut-offs and white throwover that covered my navy bikini. “I didn’t know what to wear.”
Sascha was in his token jeans and white T-shirt. “You look incredible.”
Two women walking by grinned at each other.
My cheeks flamed. “Alright.”
He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail. “Are you blushing?
I glared at him. “Where are we going?”
Flashing a grin, he opened the door of his blue pickup truck. “Hop in, spitfire.”
I’d show him spitfire. Batting away his hand and ignoring his deep chuckle, I climbed into the vehicle.
We left pack lands, but instead of turning toward the town at the entrance to pack lands, Sascha turned left. I’d only been down here to play in Clay.
“I’ve wanted to get away with you for a while.” One hand on the wheel, he rested his other arm on the frame of the windowsill.
I shrugged. “Leader life.”
“It is. To be clear though. I’ll always make time for you.”
I tried not to fidget. “Don’t worry. I know what it’s like.”
He directed us around a bend and slowed where the road changed from tar-seal to dirt. “You are my main priority.”
It was hard for someone who’d never been anyone’s main priority to suddenly become one. Even though I believed him, my natural inclination was to get feisty or make a joke.
Battling with those urges, I settled for silence.
Sascha took my hand, and the tension drained from me.
I wanted to tear down everything between us so badly. Dredging up my courage, I said, “It’s a strange concept for me.”
“I know, little bird.”
Tears stung my eyes.
I wound down the window, letting the warm summer air calm me.
Sascha let go of my hand to navigate the switchbacks. “You’re winning over the pack females.”
Am I? “Cool.”
He shot me an amused look. “It’s a compliment. As my mate, you would assume leadership over the females in our pack. They’ve seen you interact with Axel and Jemma, and I heard them talking about your acceptance of Emily and Cameron. Sometimes, top females have trouble maintaining dominance and inspiring confidence, but you’ve taken to it as I always knew you would. Your past as head steward may have generated some bad will initially, but really, every member of my pack knows you have what it takes to lead.”
I suppose it might have helped to convince them—even with how my stint as head steward ended. “So the males and females are separate entities within the pack?”
He nodded. “As pack leader, my order is final, barring a situation where the females lose faith in my ability to protect and provide. As top female, your advice and opinion will always hold powerful sway with me and with the entire pack.”
Hmm.
“What?” Sascha asked.
“Trying to remember if any of my romantic fantasies ever involved being called a top female.”
He laughed and lifted a shoulder. “Some of our terms must seem nonprogressive.”
I glanced down over the valley and my stomach swooped at the drop. “You’re not human. Why would your culture be the same as ours? I’ve never seen any male Luther disrespect a female Luther. The pack seems to acknowledge that there are different kinds of strength, and that one isn’t better than the other.”
Sascha hummed. “I guess so.”
“Where are we going?”
“Not telling.”
I groaned.
He grinned. “You’re not good with surprises.”
“That’s because they’re mostly bad.”
“In your experience?”
I released my belt and scooted into the middle seat, buckling up again. There, I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the immediate warmth of our connection that made talking so much easier. “People used to kick down the doors for money. Mum went through a phase of borrowing from loan sharks. They weren’t nice.”
Sascha tensed. “How old were you?”
“From nine. It stopped at twelve when I convinced Mum to go to rehab.” We’d sold her car and some furniture to afford it. “I’d sometimes come home to find Mum gone. She’d return days later after emptying the bank accounts.”
His pine
scent ignited with anger.
“It was all worth it when she was my mother,” I admitted.
“She’s your mother if you decide she’s your mother.” Sascha turned down a tiny dirt road that led away from the plummeting cliffs.
I sighed. “If she could laugh with me sometimes after Murphy’s death, why couldn’t she tell me the truth?”
“People who hurt that much sometimes want to hurt themselves more.”
“I think that’s why she gambled.”
“Then it’s not unreasonable to think she might have made herself feel worse in other ways. Like not treating you in a way you deserved. Or maybe she believed lying was the best way to protect you.”
He pulled over on the side of the small road.
I looked at him. “Guess I’ll never know.”
Herc’s death was shit, and I still held regret over my part in the events of that night, but I’d dealt with his passing for the most part.
“Is this why you won’t play music anymore?” He took my hand again.
My voice was hoarse. “Yes.”
“One day, you’ll play again, and I look forward to that moment. Besides your voice, there’s no sound more beautiful than your music.” He whispered a kiss on my lips. “I’m not sure how I get anything done when you’re around.”
I frowned. “Hey, Sascha?”
“Mmm?” He kissed up my neck.
I lost my train of thought. He rested his forehead against my chest sometime after.
“I’m here to show her our territory,” Sascha muttered.
My shoulders shook. “Who are you trying to convince?”
He groaned. “Myself. What were you saying?”
Uh… “I was going to ask what you’d do if the pack won Grids.”
As soon as the words were out, I half regretted them. The lighter mood we’d managed to grip onto disappeared.
Sascha regarded me. “We’d gain the businesses and the entire Deception Valley territory. My pack would have a permanent home. I’d enjoy not having the threat of death lingering over our heads. I’d have more time to spend with you. Greyson struggles with the demands of pack life, and he’d enjoy more time to ourselves.”
In Sascha’s mind, I was with him if the pack won.
In that future, did I feel like this? Were we constantly trying to re-establish a strong connection with each other?
“What would happen to the tribe if the pack won?” I asked before I could wuss out.
He took longer to answer. “Our peoples have attempted peace many times, Andie. It has never worked. The stewards will be devastated to leave their ancestors and burial grounds behind, but they can leave, and so I believe they must if my people are to finally live without violence and hate.”
That’s what I’d expected.
The thought of the stewards being torn from their valley was horrifying. To imagine watching their desolation as they drove away filled me with dread.
I wasn’t sure I could watch that happen.
Sascha clearly believed I’d stay behind.
And maybe I would if the pack won.
But who would I be? And what would I become in time?
Because time sure as fuck wasn’t helping me now.
“You don’t like my answer.” Sascha’s tone belied the sudden horror he felt too.
Could he smell my complete adversity to what he’d outlined?
There was something I had to know. Something that could change everything. “Would you ever consider another ending?”
Sascha’s impassive mask swept into place. “My pack are beyond accepting another ending. Fifty years ago, they agreed that only the victor would remain in the valley after Victratum. They are willing to die if they lose rather than go on in this way. Good or bad, they want it done.”
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his answer.
And no wriggle room.
Hopelessness filled me completely—a mere hint of what lay ahead.
I couldn’t be what Sascha wanted me to be.
Forcing back the crushing sorrow, I broke the tense quiet. “Do we walk from here?”
“Andie—”
“No. It’s good for me to know that now. It’s…” Shaking my head, I shuffled back to the passenger side and opened the door. Pausing outside, I released a shaking breath as quietly as possible.
Sascha hadn’t budged and I could smell his anguish.
Why did we keep doing this to each other? And when would it stop?
What happens now? Booker asked softly, likely sensing I was on the verge of tears.
My throat tightened.
Something had to change. And fast.
Or Sascha and I were on a one-way ride to destruction.
I paced in the bungalow, checking the time on my phone. The Tuesday tribe gathering was almost over.
My phone buzzed and I scrambled to read the message from Wade.
Rhona has taken measures against their plan.
Telling Pascal worked.
Thank fuck for that.
And also, shit.
I had just over twenty-four hours until Sascha realised I’d passed on pack information. This moment was always inevitable, perhaps. But Booker had told me to trust my instincts, and after the tense talk with Sascha earlier today, my instincts burned stronger than ever.
No matter who won, Sascha and I lost.
That wasn’t something I could accept.
I slipped my phone away and walked to dinner.
He wasn’t in the pack house, and it felt horrible to feel so damn relieved about that. But I was. I’d spent the afternoon scenting his anguish. He’d spent the afternoon scenting mine.
We didn’t touch once.
More distance. More walls.
It was just easier when I couldn’t smell his hurt and pain.
I grabbed some marinade-slathered ribs, adding pulled pork and a steak. Wrinkling my nose, I heaped on carrots and broccoli.
Put the ribs in our mouth, my wolf said.
I sat and obeyed.
“Where’s Sascha?” Evelyn asked.
“Unsure,” I replied. “At work still?”
She frowned. “He’s usually back for dinner.”
My reaction to his answer had thrown him. I didn’t know exactly what he’d realised in that moment, but maybe similar thoughts to mine were circulating his mind right now.
Perhaps he’d seen that our future may not be quite as he’d envisioned.
Or at all.
I consulted the elastic pull under my ribs. “He’s moving fast. He must have shifted and gone for a run.”
And if I shifted after dinner, our paths wouldn’t cross until bedtime.
“Mandy sure doesn’t like you.” Another of the alpha women jerked her head to the top table. The woman wore her jet-black hair in a pixie cut.
A quick glance confirmed that Mandy was glaring daggers at me. “I thought that was respect and friendship.”
At her snort, the brunette I’d knocked out and the blonde who’d carried her away fixed hard gazes on the woman.
The woman with the pixie cut rolled her eyes. “Kara, get over it. She won the challenge fair and square. If you have another issue, take it up with Andie. Don’t expect me to fall in line. You know we’re an even match.”
“Do you still have a problem with me, Kara?” I asked. When she lowered her gaze, I looked at the blonde. “What about you, Bailey?”
She jerked at my use of her name.
Yes, I use my ears.
“No problem,” Bailey grunted.
“Great to hear. Now, Mandy does have an issue with me. She believes that I’m unworthy of Sascha. She’s taken it upon herself to be his champion.”
The alpha women looked at Mandy, who, judging by her sour scent, certainly heard my words.
Evelyn growled low. “Mandy would do well to remember that it’s up to my son to prove his worth, not the other way around.”
Her voice was sharp, and the sour edge t
o Mandy’s scent ran to hide.
I gnawed at another rib. “Surely it’s up to both people to prove themselves. Both mates stand to lose the same if one says no.”
Evelyn smiled. “Logically, yes. Yet it is always the case that males worry incessantly about proving themselves worthier than any other partner the woman could choose. Nature drives them near madness with the urge, and that occurrence transcends mere logic, don’t you think? Which is why most wolves use nature’s wisdom as their guide in such things. For us, it is the male’s task to ensure the positive result of the mating call.”
My experience of nature’s wisdom to date told me it could go fuck itself.
A commotion at the door stole our attention.
At Axel’s growl, I rose to my feet. The pup was dragging something across the rugged floor with all his might.
Oh my god.
I bit back laughter and sat again.
“What’s he got?” Bailey asked.
A weakness for curiosity. “My saxophone.”
He stopped for three breaks before reaching me. He flopped over the case, panting hard.
“Axel,” I said solemnly. “That doesn’t belong to you.”
Did he drag it from the bungalow? Lifting up the case, I studied the underside. Caked in dirt.
Yes.
Yes, he did.
“Why did you bring it here?” I asked.
The pup whined.
“I can’t understand you. Could you tell me another way?”
He growled.
“Axel, I can smell that you’re frustrated, but don’t growl at me. Just try another way.”
The pup placed a paw on the case, and I obliged by opening it. I wish the other Luthers would start talking again.
He placed a paw on the mouthpiece.
I’d prefer that he use actual words, but he had figured another way to convey his meaning.
I relented. “You’d like me to play?”
Axel wagged his tail.
I exhaled. “That’s not easy for me to do, big pup.”
He cocked an ear.
Cool. Looked like I was about to spill my guts to the pack. Oh, well. I couldn’t feel any worse after the failed date with Sascha.
“I used to play for my mother because she loved the sound,” I told the pup. “Then I found out she wasn’t my mother. I don’t know who to play for anymore, and I’m scared that playing will never feel the same again.”
Wolf Roulette: Supernatural Battle Page 7