Bound to the Alpha: Complete Edition (Shifters of Appalachia Book 2)

by Viola Rivard

  “What are you doing, runt?” Jewel asked, giving her little sister a stern look.

  “I was trying to show them how high I could climb,” Lotus said, brushing the snow from her blonde hair.

  “Well, we all see how that worked out. How about you stop acting like a cat and come sit down?”

  Lotus’s face scrunched up. “I am not acting like a cat, and I do not want to sit.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I have been sitting all night. I want to run.”

  “I’ll go for a quick run with her,” Clover offered in an unusual show of helpfulness. Sarah figured the teenager probably didn’t want to sit around the campsite either.

  Jewel waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t go too far, or your brother will throw a fit.”

  Sable materialized beside Clover. “Me too, me too.”

  “Me too,” Snow said, mimicking Sable.

  Sarah clicked her tongue. “Not so fast.” She made herself get up and trudged over to the children, crouching down in front of Snow. Close up, she could hear the faint, wheezy cadence of Snow’s breathing.

  Sarah fished through her pockets, producing the inhaler, which she always kept close at hand. “I think she’s gonna sit this run out,” Sarah said as she administered the medicine.

  Clover asked, “You coming, Caim?”

  Still bundled in heavy clothing and pelts, the boy looked immensely uncomfortable. Shaking his head, he said, “I have to stay here and watch the females while my father is gone.”

  A collective snort ran through the campsite, but no one commented.

  As Clover left with the girls, Snow slumped in Sarah’s lap, looking dejected. Now that her asthma was being managed better, Snow was finally able to play with the other children and was starting to become aware of her limitations. She was much smaller and frailer than the others, and her inability to shift only widened the gap between them. These things, coupled with her occasional breathing difficulties, made it so that Snow was often left out.

  Sarah held out hope that once all of the moving drama was behind them, Alder would take responsibility for Snow. The little girl was going to need a lot of TLC, and before the year was out, Sarah would have her hands full with a baby of her own.

  Leaning back against a tree trunk, Sarah tuned in and out of Grace and Jewel’s conversation. Despite her eagerness to go running, Snow was asleep within minutes, her small head resting between Sarah’s breasts.

  Wanting to wait for Cain, Sarah tried to keep her eyes open. As if tiny weights had been strung on her eyelashes, they refused to stop drooping.

  It could have been a little while later, or perhaps only a few seconds. One moment, Sarah was resting her eyes, and the next, all hell broke loose.

  37

  Gunshots echoed through the forest. They were no longer vague popping noises in the distance, but loud blasts that ripped through the fragile peace of the morning.

  Sarah’s first instinct was to run, and she wasn’t alone. Grace and Jewel bolted up and grabbed what they could. After a fast debate, Grace took off to find Clover and the girls, while Jewel led Sarah and her charges away from the campsite.

  The sun had yet to peak over the horizon, compounding Sarah’s difficulties navigating through the woods. Jewel dashed through the forest at a breakneck pace, and only the adrenaline coursing through Sarah’s veins allowed her to keep up.

  Jewel carried Snow, leaving Caim to Sarah. Caim was too big to carry. Fortunately for Sarah, he was also very quick on his feet. He let Sarah hold his hand, but more often than not, he was the one pulling her along, rather than the other way around. Sarah had never felt more burdened by her humanity.

  They came to a stop at a ravine that was partially obscured by trees and dormant overgrowth. Jewel jumped down and then helped Sarah to climb down as well. At the base of the ravine was a narrow stream that appeared to be entirely frozen over.

  Once they were all down, Jewel handed Snow over to Sarah and went to the ledge, standing on the tips of her toes to peek over.

  Trying not to sound terrified, Sarah whispered, “What’s the plan?”

  “We should wait for the others to find us. If we stay put, they’ll have an easier time of tracking us down.”

  Sarah wasn’t a fan of that idea, but she didn’t have a better one. Too anxious to sit, she rocked back and forth on her heels. She tried to keep her head clear, but insidious thoughts kept creeping in. What if no one came for them? What if the others had been hurt? What if Cain…

  Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay strong. She didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but she did believe that Cain loved her and Caim. One way or another, he would find them.

  More gunshots tore her from her musings. They were accompanied by a short, sharp cry—the unmistakable sound of an animal in pain. A look of pure panic washed over Jewel’s face, and she scrambled to climb from the ravine.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah demanded, grabbing for the pelt Jewel wore.

  “That was Grace,” she said, her voice steeped in desperation.

  A chill swept through Sarah’s body, but she remained reasonable. “You can’t go charging out there. It’s dangerous—”

  Jewel smacked Sarah’s hand away. “You don’t understand. My family is out there.”

  Sarah stood, watching helplessly as Jewel climbed out of the ravine. Her arm was still stinging a few moments later, when the guns fired again.

  38

  “Sarah,” Snow said, giving a half-hearted tug at her guardian’s hair. “Want food.”

  At three-years-old, there was only so much peril Snow could process before it all just became par for the course. Sarah envied Snow’s resilience, especially since she felt like she could crack at any moment.

  If it were just the facts that she was hungry and cold, her pack and her mate may have been massacred, and she was lost with two small children, she probably could have held it together, if only for the sake of said children. But the icing on the entire crappy cake was that she couldn’t see a damn thing.

  Never in her life had she been so frustrated by her bad eyesight. After Jewel left and the guns had been fired again, Sarah hadn’t waited around. She had a family to protect too, and she didn’t feel guilty about not sticking around.

  Without Jewel to follow, the forest had been an obstacle course of tree roots, branches, ice, and holes, all conveniently disguised by a heavy layer of snow.

  Caim was her savior. He led the way through the forest, making sure the path was safe and alerting her of any obstructions.

  Sarah had had no particular direction in mind when she ran away. Her only goal had been to get herself and the children as far away from danger as possible. That had been at least an hour ago, and now that the sun was up and the woods were quiet, it seemed like a good time to stop and regain her frame of reference.

  Putting Snow down, Sarah stopped to sit on a fallen tree trunk. Caim climbed up to sit beside her as she began to dig through her supplies.

  The deerskin bag wasn’t actually hers. When they’d abandoned the campsite earlier that morning, she’d thrown the nearest supply bag over her shoulder, knowing they would need food. To Sarah’s dismay, the bag contained nothing but the children’s clothing and a spare pelt.

  Snow put her chin on Sarah’s leg and gave the bag a forlorn look. “No food,” she said sadly.

  “I can hunt,” Caim offered.

  “Not a chance,” Sarah said flatly. “You’re staying right where I can see you.”

  “Then what will we eat?” Caim asked, scowling at her. For a moment he looked so much like his father that Sarah’s breath caught.

  Keep it together, she told herself.

  Swallowing, she said, “Well, I’ll just have to think up a plan, now won’t I?”

  His eyes slanted with skepticism. “Perhaps we should wait for my father.”

  “Oh ye of little faith,” she chided, wrapping an arm around him.

  Sarah considered al
l of her options. If they picked a spot and hunkered down, it was very likely that a member of the pack would be able to sniff them out. That plan hinged on there being a pack left to find them. While Sarah held out hope that everyone was okay, she wasn’t sure she was ready to bet Caim and Snow’s lives on it.

  The other option would be to head for the safe place they’d initially been heading for. Clover had said it was beyond the northern river, and that there was food stored there. It would be the best place to wait for the others. The only trouble would be getting there.

  “Have you ever been to the safe place before?” she asked Caim.

  Caim’s brow wrinkled. “Once, when I was a pup.”

  Taking a shot in the dark, she asked, “Any idea how to get there?”

  He shook his head. “I remember it was between two big hills. There was an oak tree that was struck by lightning, and a pond with lots of bullfrogs…”

  Caim went on to describe the area to the best of his recollection. She was very impressed by how much he remembered, but without knowing how to get there, it wasn’t much help.

  “Hm,” she said, tapping her chin. “I guess the best thing to do would be to head for the river.”

  Maybe, once they got to the other side of the river, they could find a high vantage point and search for some of the landmarks Caim mentioned. With any luck, once they were at least in the right area, he’d remember the path to the den.

  Looking around the forest, Caim frowned. “I am not sure how to get to the river from here.”

  “Well, we just have to go north.” Sarah squinted up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. “And I have just the trick for that.”

  * * *

  The sun was high above them by the time the trio made it to the river. Sarah had never been happier to see a giant, freezing body of water with no foreseeable crossing.

  On the other side of the river was more forest, but the ground was higher, and she could see a few hills in the distance. Even if they got on the other side, there was no telling which way the den was. For now, she couldn’t worry about that.

  She led the children to a shaded area in a cluster of trees, a few yards out from the river. Unpacking the spare pelt, she laid down with Snow, every muscle in her body flooding with relief.

  “What are you doing?” Caim asked, crouching down beside her. “We have to keep going.”

  She reached out and patted his hand. “Sorry, handsome, but I need a couple hours to rest my eyes.”

  That had to be the understatement of the century. Never in her life had she felt so utterly depleted of energy.

  Caim turned to walk away, forcing her to sit up. “Hey, don’t wander off. Come lay down with us.”

  “I am going to catch a fish,” he said stubbornly.

  She started to object, but he was already knee-deep in water. “Stay where I can see you,” she called out. “And don’t go out any farther than that.”

  Although she was tired, Sarah couldn’t bring herself to rest while Caim wasn’t close by. She sat on her knees, watching him as he shuffled around in the water. Not interested in her brother’s antics, Snow promptly fell asleep.

  It only took Caim a few minutes to make a catch, a speckled trout that tasted just as bad as it smelled. Sarah could only hold down a few meager bites before throwing up, but at least afterwards she wasn’t hungry anymore.

  After changing Caim into dry clothes, she finally convinced him to lay down with her. He had made a big show about not being bothered by the cold water, but when Sarah pulled him into her arms, he was shivering. She held him tightly, until his tremors waned.

  She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Your father is going to be so proud of you.”

  39

  Guilt weighed heavily on Cain as he stared down at Jewel. The bullet had gone straight through her chest. The undisturbed snow around her spoke of a quick, perhaps instant death. It did nothing to allay his guilt.

  He felt guilt not just because she had been killed, but also because he had little time to mourn her. Even as he stared down at the body of his pack member, all he could think of was finding his family.

  They had been scouting the boundaries of the camp when Fern had come across fresh claw marks on a tree trunk. Knowing that they were territory markers, they had stopped to debate whether or not to more the pack to a safer resting area. That was when the gunfire had resumed.

  Chaos had ensued, and it quickly became apparent that they had walked right into the middle of a fight between humans and the resident bear tribe. Whatever reason the humans had for hunting down the bears, it had nothing to do with Cain’s pack. Nonetheless, they had been caught in the crosshairs.

  Hale came to stand beside Cain, his hands in his pockets.

  “Meadow and Fern found Grace.”

  He did not say anything else, and his silence spoke volumes.

  The news of Grace’s death hit Cain harder than the sight of Jewel. Grace was the only other member of his pack that was missing, aside from Sarah, Caim, and his niece. Cain realized that the belief that Grace was with them, protecting them, was one of the few things keeping him sane.

  Cain tried to remind himself that Sarah had survived in the wilderness before, but it was little use. The thought of his vulnerable mate, lost somewhere in the mountains with two pups, was enough to send him spiraling towards a rage. He could feel his claws, sharp beneath his skin, and his body shook with the effort not to shift.

  He heard Alder call out to him, and Cain’s attention was momentarily diverted. In the distance, he could see Alder climbing down into a ravine.

  “I think I caught their scent,” he shouted.

  Cain spared Jewel one final glance, and then looked to Hale. “You’re in charge. Gather the others and meet me at the safe den.”

  “What about Grace and Jewel—”

  Cain gave a quick shake of his head. “Once Clover and the others are safe, if you want to come back and bury them, that is your decision, but now is not the time.”

  Without another word, Cain headed towards the ravine. It was as Alder had said. As soon as he neared the area, he could smell faint traces of Snow, Caim, and his mate. Her scent was a painful reminder that she was carrying his pup. He had never stood to lose so much all at once.

  * * *

  Sarah’s sixth sense tingled, causing her to stir from her nap. Her limbs felt leaden, and in the contradictory manner she was growing accustomed to with her pregnancy, she felt both famished and nauseous.

  Sleep tried to pull her back into its clutches, but the sense that something was out of place had Sarah forcing herself to open her eyes. When she finally did so, she was looking up at a coral-colored sky.

  She stared at the sky in a daze, trying to remember if there was a correlation between the color of the sunset and the weather.

  As she came fully awake, memories of the past day flooded back to her. The gunshots. Being separated from Cain. The trek to the river. For a few blissful moments, it had all seemed like a bad dream.

  Remembering the uneasiness that had awoken her, Sarah sat up and looked around. Snow had somehow managed to curl herself in a ball between Sarah’s legs. She could hear the little girl’s breathing was slightly labored, and Sarah was glad that she’d had the good sense to keep the inhaler handy at all times.

  The space beside her was warm, but predictably empty. If there ever came a day when they were safely reunited with Cain, she was seriously going to throttle his son.

  Sarah tried to move carefully so as not to disturb Snow, but she woke anyway. She sat up, her pudgy hand rubbing at her eyes.

  “Want to go home, Sarah.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” Sarah said, her heart constricting. She leaned down to Snow’s eye level. “Just let me find your silly brother, and then we’re going to cross this stupid river, and then we’ll be there in no time.”

  She could only hope things would be that simple.

  Caim’s tracks led back towards t
he riverbank and then veered to the left. Snow followed her closely, making a game of hopping in Sarah’s footprints.

  When she rounded a bend in the river, Sarah instinctively screamed. Caim stood on the riverbank, his chin raised as he calmly stared at a hulking black bear.

  Why, why, why, did it always have to be bears?

  The bear seemed to be just as surprised by Sarah, and hastily stumbled into the river. Caim’s head whipped around to deliver an accusatory glare.

  “You scared him,” he said.

  After several attempts to formulate an intelligent response, Sarah settled on, “Are you insane? Get the heck away from that bear!”

  Not budging, Caim said, “I was going to ask him if he has seem my father.”

  As the bear moved farther into the river, Sarah advanced on Caim.

  “I think he was about to shift,” Caim said. Raising his voice, he called out, “Come back!”

  Arriving at Caim’s side, Sarah clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say that,” she hissed.

  Caim squirmed away from her grasp, his eyes narrowing. “He could have helped us.”

  “He could have eaten you,” she said, trying to get a rein on her racing pulse. “How can you even tell he’s a shifter?”

  Caim looked at her as if that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. “Bears sleep in the winter.” He pointed towards the retreating bear. “Now we will never get across the river.”

  Sarah took Caim’s hand, tugging him away from the river. “I promise, I’ll figure out a bear-less way for us to cross.”

  He shook her off again. “My father put me in charge.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in his obstinate posture and reddening face. Given that the bear showed no sign of turning back, she decided it was okay to take a moment to soothe Caim’s tantrum.

  “Look,” she said, putting her hands on his small shoulders. “I know that you’re scared, and I know that you miss your dad, but you’re going to have to trust me. You know why?”

  He looked up at her, but stubbornly remained silent.