“I’m sure you can see why we keep it a secret?”
In a word, yes. The tribe could simply wait for them to die. My thoughts drifted to the pup I’d saved in the river. I’d only ever seen that one pup on pack lands. And he’d nearly died. That would have devastated them. “Your parents are mated, so they’re immortal, right? Your father must still be alive then. How are you the leader?”
“I became stronger than my father when Greyson decided to work with me and the pack.”
How nice of him.
Quiet fell as I processed that.
My heart squeezed. Fuck. That’s why he told me. This was my fate, too, now. I couldn’t ever leave the valley. I squeezed my mug harder. Sascha could get in line. The fucker who bit me would die by my hand. Or claws.
Or he’d hurt at least. I wasn’t sure murder was my gig.
I can never leave this place.
My wolf answered, We love it here.
Except running was always my plan B. If the tribe discovered the truth and exiled me, then obviously it would hurt and suck, but I’d be able to leave the area.
Not anymore.
My wolf didn’t seem too worried. Guess we better not get caught.
I rubbed a hand over my face.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Sascha said.
“I can handle it.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “There doesn’t seem to be anything you don’t take in stride. I have a strong mate.”
Ugh. “I need to get to the manor.”
His musk smell faded. “You can’t take the day off to recover?”
“Good joke. Do you get days off?”
Sascha arched a brow. “Touché. When can you next meet?”
Never. Though I couldn’t deny the advantages of Luther lessons—even knowing Sascha would use the time to grow closer to me. “End of the week. Friday or Saturday.”
“Done. If you unblock my number again, I’ll contact you.”
I set my cup on the offensive saxophone. “I’ll consider it.”
Sascha took my hand. “Please be careful, little bird. Promise me.”
“I’ll promise myself. How about that?”
A hint of sadness stung my nostrils before Sascha directed his attention to the small table behind me. “Have you had time to play?”
I glanced back. The saxophone. “No.”
He released me. “Well, now you’re out here, you could.”
“Maybe.” Not happening.
Sascha didn’t follow me to the door.
I turned back, crossing my arms. “What?”
He regarded me in silence, and I couldn’t fail to notice it wasn’t awkward. I didn’t feel the need to fill in quiet moments with him.
“Could I hold you for a moment?” he asked, rubbing his jaw.
I skimmed over the tight bunching of his shoulders and the slight glaze to his honey eyes. He hadn’t slept all night, and to my memory, we had a biting and screwing meet left that he was trying to resist.
Wish he wouldn’t, my wolf hummed.
I’ve gathered that much.
“Okay,” I said.
Sascha closed the gap and engulfed me in his strong arms. I hugged his middle, resting my cheek against his firm chest. His hands splayed against my back, and a deep rumble filled him as he buried his nose in my hair and inhaled. I couldn’t resist the urge to do the same as liquid warmth filled me, sweeping away the bruised ache left from my first shift. My worries faded, replaced by a feeling of contentment that had to be fake because I’d never—not once in my life—experienced anything like this.
Hugging Sascha wasn’t just a hangover cure any longer. I could feel our bond thing fixing me, healing my wounds. It felt so right that the thought of stepping back left my mind almost entirely.
“Why aren’t you playing your saxophone?” Sascha whispered in my ear. “You love it.”
Anger twisted sharp in my gut and the spell was broken. I stepped back. “None of your business.”
“Is it because of your mother?” His eyes were clear and sharp again, and a languidness hung over his previously tense shoulders.
A humourless smirk curved my lips. “Which mother?”
“The one you knew and loved.”
I brushed my hair back. “Let’s get something straight, Sascha. I’m grateful for the help last night, and the orgasms, but don’t believe for a second that things between us have otherwise changed.”
Sascha stalked closer and caged me against the door.
I glowered up at him.
He tilted my chin, exposing my neck. “What will you do when you realise outrunning me is futile?”
He’d uttered a similar version long ago, and my answer was still the same. “It’s not a matter of outrunning you.”
“I agree,” he murmured, drawing closer until a bare sliver separated us. “You’re running from your past. But I’m not your past, Andie. I’m here to stay. You will always have me. So stop running.”
My chest rose, and his focus dipped to my breasts.
“No person stays forever. Everyone has their limit. Even you.”
He stared into my eyes. “Time will show you, little bird.”
I tore away from his intense perusal, trying to even out my shallow breaths. My new senses made standing close to Sascha torturous. The bond wanted me to go to him, to wrap my legs around him, to rest my cheek against his chest again, and to never let go.
Was this what Sascha always felt?
It was fucking overwhelming.
“Time will show me,” I replied in a trembling voice.
Sascha led a trapped pack. His parents were immortal. Literally, no one could leave him because the pack couldn’t leave the valley. He had no idea how shit abandonment felt, regardless of his age. He didn’t understand that people weren’t reliable, and that I wasn’t angry or bitter about that. It just was.
Fact.
Done.
Reaching behind me for the handle, I twisted and pushed.
Sascha’s reactions were too quick to fall on his face, but the look of shock on his features didn’t quite mesh with what I’d done. Smirking, I turned, jolting at the sight of Rhona.
Her shock equalled his.
“Rhona,” I said calmly. “Sascha Greyson was just leaving.”
My sister’s emerald eyes moved between my short dressing gown and the Luther leader’s bare chest.
Okay, this didn’t look great.
Her shock morphed to rage. She blinked several times and met my eye once again.
I spoke over my shoulder. “Goodbye, Luther.”
“If you change your mind, let me know, Head Steward,” he said.
My heart squeezed. The words were nonsense. He was trying to give me a way out of this.
But I already had one.
Even with that excuse, this looked bad.
“Not a chance,” I replied. “Rhona. Come in.”
She shouldered Sascha while obeying, but only a slight sorrow flickered in his eyes at her rudeness.
Yeah, he’d killed her father. Sascha was lucky Rhona didn’t attempt to return the favour.
“Head Steward.” He moved to the stairs and glanced back, searching my face
“I’ve got this,” I mouthed. Aloud, I said, “Luther. I’ll see you in Grids.”
He hovered on the top step, focus sliding to the open entrance.
Making the choice for him, I entered and shut the door.
White-lipped fury about summed Rhona up.
Shit.
Leaning over the couch, I gazed out the window, watching Sascha stride away.
“What the fuck?” Rhona seethed.
Half turning, I held a finger to my lips.
“You slept with that fucker?” she exploded.
I winced as her voice boomed in my ears. I could probably hear that from around a kilometre away, so there was no chance Sascha didn’t catch it even with the frequency generators. “You’re making a series of assumption
s. I suggest you listen first instead.”
The words were harsh, yes, but I’d changed into a fucking wolf last night, so she could suck it up.
She inhaled sharply for another go.
“Rhona.” My voice cracked like a whip.
Her mouth snapped shut. I doubted she’d ever been spoken to in such a way.
She tests our authority, my wolf silently spoke.
My fingernails sharpened and extended. We’ve got to stay cool!
Forest, forest, forest. Calm.
Why? my wolf enquired.
I gave her a quick rundown of Rhona, the stewards, and my position and felt her boredom seep through me.
Human politics. I will leave you to them.
My claws receded and the pressure in my gums disappeared.
Sascha’s footsteps cut off suddenly. He’d moved past the frequency generators. I could still see him walking away through the trees though.
It had to be the frequency generators.
“If we speak quietly, he shouldn’t hear,” I said, doing a final check for any wolfy body changes before facing her. “Let’s clear one thing up. I did not sleep with Sascha Greyson. No matter my agenda for the tribe, I’m not willing to go that far.”
Her face didn’t change.
“You don’t believe me?”
“You’re naked beneath that gown,” she hissed.
I shrugged. “I showered and fell into bed after hours of cleaning. The Luther woke me up when he arrived. I expected you, Wade, or Cameron, so I just put the gown on. When I realised it was him, of course I wasn’t about to change—not with the theory we’re currently testing.”
She chewed on that, but for the first time—maybe ever—Rhona didn’t give me a shred of reluctant acceptance.
Dang, she was really upset.
“He came the very morning after you moved out here?” She looked at the two mugs. “How did he know?”
Crap. My heart thumped. “I believe he’s stalking me.”
“Why?”
I opened the closet and dragged out loose shorts and a comfortable T-shirt. This gown was chaffing me. Long sleeves and pants weren’t a great idea today. My professional appearance would need to take a hit until I wrapped my head around the new sensitivity of my skin. “Because he often turns up where I am. I went to collect my things from the apartment recently and he arrived not long after I got there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I pulled on underwear and a bra, drawing on the silk T-shirt before pulling up the high-waisted linen shorts and fastening the large brown buttons up the front. “Because he’d just killed your father, Rhona. You don’t like to worry me, and I don’t like to worry you.”
“If I hadn’t come across the pair of you, would I know about this? I asked Heather to alert me if she spotted anything unusual on the cameras. He avoided them somehow.”
I nodded grimly. “Heather never called me either. Obviously, I didn’t expect to wake up with a Luther at my door. If they’re able to wriggle their way onto tribe territory, we need to tighten security.”
Rhona considered me. She’d tucked her rage away, but a hardness remained.
“Something’s worrying you,” I said softly. “You knew this was the plan, Rhona. You knew I intended to use this infatuation against him. It was your idea.”
Rhona faced the window. “He was inside your cabin, Andie. That’s another thing entirely. Did he… did he touch you?”
Thank fuck she was facing away. Blood rushed into my cheeks because, uh—yes—touching ensued. Some really nice touching that couldn’t happen again.
“He’s playing a game of cat and mouse with me. For now.”
Rhona shook her head. “For now. Then what?”
“That’s what we need to decide in the upcoming weeks. For Grids. Together.”
She faced me, and I couldn’t notice any dent in the hardness.
“Maybe we should call it quits on this strategy right now. You seem upset, and nothing is worth that to me. Say the word, and we’ll move on.”
That got to her at last.
The tension in my shoulders eased as she exhaled.
“You’ve never betrayed my trust,” she muttered. “It’s just that Dad never did either. Until he really did, you know?”
My stomach churned. “I know. Just please remember that I would do anything for you, Rhona. Always. Anything, seriously.”
She forced a smile. “I know. It’s just… there’s never been anything between you and the Luther before now, right?”
Here it was. The opening to reveal all and tell her the sordid truth—that Herc’s death was partially my fault. That I could have prevented it.
Was there anything I could tell her without revealing too much? “That’s everything, sister. If it means a lot to you, I’ll fill you in on the small things from now on.”
“I’d like that,” she answered after a beat.
I wrapped my arms around her, waiting stubbornly until she gave up and hugged me back.
“Ready for Timber tonight?” she asked.
Nope. “Bring it on.”
13
This grid brought back a whole heap of memories—and regrets. I might never have encountered Sascha if not for entering Timber on the wrong night.
One fucking sniff. That’s why I was here.
The thought made my gums ache, so I forced my attention to the here and now.
“Visibility is an issue in Timber as you see,” Pascal said from beside me. “We wait here until the end. Tallying the points takes longer as we must go through the grid after, but there’s nothing for it.”
The less people I could see, then the less people could see me. Ideal. Because the high emotion was getting to me—the mounting tension and smell of adrenaline urged my wolf to the surface.
She wanted to run in the trees. To chase and catch prey.
Let’s get through the next two hours, I pleaded with her again. Sascha said not to shift until we’ve healed, but if you can wait a few hours, we’ll go for a run after Grids.
But I could just go now, she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
You could. If you want me to be hurt.
Human politics?
Yep.
She sighed. After the game then.
Thanking the presence in my head, I replied to Pascal, “How long until the Luthers enter?”
“Five minutes.”
The stewards were currently split into four teams. One team was fixing traps that the Luthers located and tampered with between times. That wasn’t something we usually had to deal with—what with normally having Timber in our possession between games.
Gentle rolling hills made up this terrain. Those hills were crammed tight with the oldest trees Deception Valley had to offer. Virgin forest splayed out, the master of this place since far before my birth. Thick roots jutted and dipped under the thick layer of leaves and pine needles blanketing the ground. The canopy was so thick barely any of the remaining sunlight could make it through.
I could feel my power to resist four-legged form dwindle as twilight deepened, and I inwardly kicked myself for being so confident after a day without issue in the manor.
The sun was my power, and the growing darkness called to us both. It wanted to sharpen our senses. To protect us.
I’d be stronger in four-legged form.
Boom.
My ears picked up the distant sound of seven hundred running Luthers even over the frequency generators. That meant human ears could pick up the sound too. The footsteps came from the south and north where the pack entered the grid.
Tonight, I’d use my new senses to better understand their strategy. The frequency generators limited me, but I had my sight and sense of smell, and one day as a Luther had shown me smell was my most powerful tool.
Correct, my wolf said.
Can you help?
All the better to eat Greyson’s heart with.
Whatever floats your boat. I felt
her slide to occupy my nose, ears, eyes. Without knowing exactly how, I understood she navigated those systems now, leaving me to control movement and speech. Which was for the best. A quick test revealed she was as bad at walking in two-legged form as I was in four-legged, and no matter what she sounded like in my mind, she didn’t actually speak any form of human.
As she took over my senses, I realised how exhausted I was from controlling everything all day. Sharing like this did feel easy and right.
We couldn’t do this all the time, but…
Maybe once I get used to four-legged form, I can work on letting you have complete control for stints too, I told her.
I’d like that.
I didn’t want to always lock her up. For all I’d said to Sascha that morning, there was now one being that wouldn’t leave me.
We inhaled deeply, and I caught a curious look from Pascal.
Easy with the sniffer. We have company.
Our enemy are advancing and creating a line from the river to where they entered. Like a crescent moon.
It’s what they did last time too. It was a favourite of Sascha’s—to unify his pack on the battlefield and work through the grid systematically.
I distanced myself from Pascal and clicked my walkie-talkie. “This is Big Red. Luthers forming a crescent front from north to south along east ridge. Prepare for phase one. Over.”
Three team leaders responded with “Roger that, Big Red.”
One did not.
I pressed my lips together. Rhona.
Should I read into that?
Turning from Pascal, we inhaled again.
Their scent is strengthening, my wolf growled.
Moving closer?
Fifty of the metres you showed me.
Let me know when they’re another fifty, please.
I checked Pascal and found her tapping away on the tablet.
“This is Reindeer. Circling now. Over.”
The north team was nearly in position.
“Snow. In position.”
West and east should already be in position too. I received confirmation from the third team a minute later.
Not Rhona.
I clicked the walkie. “Big Red. East in position? Over.”
Silence.
Moon Claimed: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 2) Page 13