by Reese Morgan
She wondered how long they could stay here before Celeste invaded their territory. Either Celeste, or the Hunters, who were still out for Lycan blood, would force them further into the wilderness.
“Is Adolf available?” Hayden inquired after cornering a member of Adolf’s pack.
Or, at least she hoped he belonged to Adolf’s pack. Though he had Adolf’s distinct scent, identifying pack allegiances amongst the mass of werewolves became increasingly challenging.
The man offered her a distracted look as he prepared a fire for breakfast.
“He’s meeting with Tobias and Falco.”
Hayden made a face at the mention of Tobias and Falco. So it was true. Falco was back to reclaim his pack. Hayden wondered what Tobias planned to do if he relinquished control. Would he join Falco’s pack? Or would he try to challenge someone else, particularly Blake, for the position of Alpha?
“Looking for a sparring partner?”
At the unfamiliar female voice, Hayden turned and locked eyes with cold gray.
It was Rylee Donovan, Hayden’s current obsession.
The other female was older than Hayden, but only by a few years. She was shorter, too, and more submissive. She maintained eye contact long enough to be respectful but looked away to acknowledge Hayden’s dominance.
“Why would you assume that?” Hayden asked, tracing her eyes over the woman’s long, auburn braid and the sword strapped to her back.
Rylee’s lips quirked as she looked at Hayden’s own sword.
“You and Adolf always spar together. Considering he’s not here, and you look like you could blow off some steam, I thought I’d offer to spar with you.”
Hayden looked above Rylee’s head, quickly taking notice of Kieran as he lingered close by. The blond-haired Alpha surrounded himself with his pack members, yet his attention remained on his mate and Hayden.
“Don’t worry about him,” Rylee chided, not even looking to see what caught Hayden’s attention. “I’m Rylee Donovan, by the way. Most people call me Red.”
She held out a hand.
Red Donovan.
The deceased Red Donovan was the catalyst of the feud between the Hunters and the werewolves. From what Fergus told her earlier, Rylee was a notorious Hunter from the Donovan line who happened to be Red’s granddaughter and Shane’s cousin.
She’d been bitten a few years ago, and the majority of the men believed she would succeed mending fences between the traditional werewolves and Hunters.
It was quite the burden, Hayden thought. So far, nothing came out of Rylee’s presence, then again, they’d been fortunate that there hadn’t been any attacks either.
“Hayden Grey,” she introduced in turn, shaking the hand firmly.
Looking into her eyes, Hayden saw a certain hollowness that mirrored her own.
It was unusual to encounter such an approachable, yet assertive female werewolf. While the other female seemed friendly enough, Hayden noticed the wariness in her stance and the hard expression.
“Should we go to the clearing you and Adolf use?”
Without waiting for a response, the other female led the way.
Hayden followed, but kept a wary distance. Once they detoured from the majority of the werewolves and entered deeper into the woods, Hayden addressed her turned back.
“You’ve been watching me.”
Adolf and Hayden sparred a good distance away from the other werewolves. Unless someone was truly searching for them, they remained concealed amongst the trees. She supposed that was how Nicolas remained undetected every time he checked up on her.
Rylee looked back at her, neutral. “And you’ve been watching me.” Noticing Hayden’s schooled expression, the redhead grinned. “I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time. People talk about you as if you’re a legend.”
That gave Hayden pause. “I’m anything but.”
If Rylee was startled at Hayden’s fervent retort, she did not show it.
“You’re young.” Rylee turned forward. “You were Sired not too long ago, yet you’ve already established a name for yourself as being a true female Alpha. You are also a Crow… which is quite impressive by itself.”
“I hold no association with the last name Crow.”
“And you are the declared mate to the elusive and infamous Nicolas Slayter, an enemy to many of the traditional werewolves.” She paused. “From your scent, however, it’s clear you are unmated, though his scent does mark you.”
Hayden flushed and frowned simultaneously.
“You are a lot like your cousin, Shane,” Hayden started. “Both of you know it all. Only, the difference is that he actually does know it all and you only assume you do.”
Both females stopped and considered the other.
Hayden found herself irritated at the other female’s audacity and bold words. She’d thought, from her days of watching Rylee from afar, that the other woman was different from the rest.
Rylee quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m only telling you what everyone is saying, what I am constantly hearing.” She reached behind her and withdrew her sword. “I personally wanted to get to know you because of your skills. I can use another sparring partner. From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty good.”
Pretty good?
Hayden pursed her lips, intrigued despite herself.
“I’m sure you’ve heard all about me as well,” Rylee continued stonily. “How I’m going to ‘mend the fences’ between the werewolves and Hunters.” She seemed amused. “I think we should ignore the opinion of others and make our own perceptions.”
Reaching behind her, Hayden withdrew her own sword. “Deal.”
Rylee seemed just as pleased with the turnout.
After a lengthy silence, in which they continued walking towards the clearing, Hayden asked, “How long have you been practicing with the sword?”
“Since I could remember,” Rylee replied. “Despite what my mother wanted, my dad needed a son. He trained me to be a Hunter. The sword was my preference, but I often used the rifle.”
The whole concept of being a Hunter interested Hayden.
The red-haired female carried herself like one of them. A confident swagger originated from her hips and her shoulders were stiff with pride. Though she was a werewolf now, a simple bite could not erase years of training with the Hunters.
“And your dad…”
“Zane Donovan,” Rylee informed. “Most werewolves know him and all the Hunters abide by him. He’s the direct successor to Red, my grandfather.”
Hayden never heard of Zane, though many werewolves often referenced the Donovan family as being infamous Hunters.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather,” Hayden murmured. “He was a good man.”
For the first time since their interaction, Rylee’s eyes softened. She flashed Hayden a sidelong glance. “Thank you.” Her fingers fidgeted on her sword hilt. “He was a very good man.”
“Have you heard anything from Shane?”
“No.” Rylee sighed. “My uncle—his dad—the one that started this whole feud, doesn’t have a moral compass. He has Shane and he is fueling the fire amongst the other Hunters. I haven’t even heard from my dad. I can’t get in contact with him.”
“Are you and your dad on good terms?”
“Because I’m a werewolf now?” Rylee offered a crooked smile. “It took a while, but we’re on good terms. He’s an advocate of protecting traditional werewolves and only executing rogues.” Her smile dimmed. “I just hope he’s alright.”
Hayden thought of her mother, whom she hadn’t spoken to for months.
Then she thought about her father, whom she’d believed had deserted them, or perhaps even died. But he was out there somewhere. Celeste wouldn’t kill her lifemate, simply because her own life entwined with his.
Logan Crow had a lot to answer to in reference to his past deeds.
He had killed innocents, experimented on innocents, and attempted to wipe out whole masses of werewolves b
ased solely on his own beliefs. On a more personal level, he had fabricated a life with Hayden and her mother.
Why?
Quite frankly, Hayden was at a loss of what to feel for him, how to feel, and the extent of her feelings. If they found him, no, when they found him, how was Hayden supposed to act upon seeing her father again?
“How long have you practiced with a sword?” Rylee’s voice broke through her musings. “Considering you were Sired back in August, it couldn’t have been long.”
Hayden looked at her companion.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to explain Celeste’s altered werewolves. It was through Tracer’s bite that Hayden received the enhanced venom, which created a stronger, more durable werewolf.
Though Hayden was the first batch of failed prototypes, she’d still experienced the side effects of the drug. She was faster and stronger than most female werewolves and she learned things at a quicker pace.
Fortunately, she did not possess the mind-numbing obedience Celeste found desirable in her puppets.
Then Hayden thought of Cole.
Held captive in her possession for too long, he’d been susceptible to Celeste’s poking and prodding. Celeste had done the same to Nicolas, though the eldest Slayter escaped in time. From what Hayden knew, Nicolas had suffered in the wilderness for a long while, alone and vulnerable, before finally shaking off the effects.
Cole wasn’t so lucky.
Celeste had wanted a Slayter Carrier, an obedient soldier to Sire as many newborns as possible to create a larger army. A part of Hayden wondered if it was payback for Xavier’s past deeds.
Whatever her reasons, she’d succeeded in twisting Cole.
“A half a year,” Haden finally replied, her voice tight with emotion. “I’ve had a good instructor.”
Rylee gave her a knowing look.
“Adolf.” She smiled tightly. “I had the pleasure of meeting him when our pack first arrived here. He definitely holds nothing back, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t. I couldn’t imagine Adolf being anything but outspoken.”
Hayden entered the clearing and pointed her sword at Rylee. The older female paused, looking down at the point of the blade that nearly touched her chest. A spark entered her eyes, a spark Hayden was more than familiar with feeling herself.
“Ready?”
Rylee twirled her sword around in her palm before taking up position.
“Ready.”
3. Chapter Three
“Nicolas approached me a few days ago,” Blake addressed the pack ominously. “About Hayden leaving for New York tomorrow.”
At the admission, Fergus lost control over his flimsy paper plate. The baked beans, along with his cooked game, fell on top of Nathan’s shoes, splattering into a brown mess across the snow. His twin brusquely admonished his brother for wasting food.
From her perch around the fire, Hayden watched the pack Omega gather the salvageable pieces of food and plop it back onto his plate.
“You’re just telling me this now,” she stated dully.
She cast a look at the other members of the pack, specifically Addie and Devan.
The two females had prepared dinner and remained huddled together at the other end of the fire. They were inseparable since Devan’s return.
Exasperated, Hayden looked away, refocusing on Blake.
Nicolas had been scarce for over a week. The rogue Alpha avoided the other werewolves as skillfully as Devan avoided Hayden. Clearly, Nicolas was not welcome here, just as he felt no obligation to grace the others with his presence.
Still, it frustrated Hayden.
As much as she hated admitting it, she wanted to see the other man. His presence was a comfort just as much as it was a stimulant.
Something told her things would never change. The traditional werewolves perceived Nicolas as a threat, an ostracized ally that assisted from time to time. They would never trust him. They would never accept him into their fold again.
However, the feeling was mutual.
Nicolas was not shy admitting his dislike for the traditional wolves. He felt their traditions constricting. He did not trust them, nor like to be around them.
“I was reluctant to share it with you,” Blake informed stiffly.
“That’s not your place, Blake.”
Hayden played with her beans, her stomach protesting at the thought of more beans.
Food was limited. Game was limited.
They had to resort to canned food prepared by bonfires. Those who hunted for meat had to travel further and further from the reservation to find sources.
The distance, in turn, put them at risk.
From his position at the head of the fire, Blake stood and approached her. As usual, she sat away from the others and he typically made it his duty to bridge the gap.
“I understand your need to contact her. She’s your mother,” he started quietly, causing the others to move closer if they wanted to overhear. “But isn’t this something you can do over the phone?”
Hayden put down her fork.
“Yes, I’ll tell her the man she married and conceived a child with turned out to be a werewolf who was married to another werewolf.” Her tone was bitter. “Oh, and that he killed innocents all in the name of the greater good. Sure, I can tell her this over the phone.”
Blake flashed her a suffering look. “I’m having someone from the pack accompany you and Nicolas. I’m not letting you go alone with him.”
Hayden could have pressed further, criticized him for keeping this from her for so long. Yet, she turned quiet, having no energy left to argue with him.
“Fine, I’ll take Fergus.”
Across the fire, Fergus perked up, his face pale and ashen at the prospect of being volunteered. It was no secret he was frightened of Nicolas, yet out of all the others, Hayden preferred his company in this situation.
Blake’s lips thinned, but he made no further comment on the matter. “I would have liked to go with you,” he confessed quietly. “I know this will be hard for you. You need all the support you can get.”
“But you have to be here for the pack.” She looked at him, softening at both his words and his expression. “Thank you, Blake.”
Since her return, she frequently bumped heads with him. They were all trying to adjust without Cole’s leadership, but she knew Blake felt his absence the most. The Alpha position was extremely different from the beta position, only because it required a gentler, more diplomatic approach.
Blake’s expression turned hesitant.
He looked towards Addie and Devan before inclining closer to her. His voice lowered, but he shouldn’t have worried. All the others were engaged in their own conversations.
“I should have talked to you about Devan before making the decision of accepting her back.” His amber gaze softened. “We’re joint Alphas now, Hayden, but you weren’t here. I had to make a decision.”
He had the ability to sound both disappointed and tentative at the same time.
Hayden pursed her lips, stubbornly keeping her attention on her plate of beans.
“I get it,” she ventured. “You’re still upset over what happened. So is Eric.” She inhaled deeply, remembering the deaths that had resulted from her endeavor outside the reservation. “I’m just as upset for allowing that to happen, but I needed answers for Cole. I’m not going to give up on him.”
A heavy hand covered her knee, squeezing it.
“And you shouldn’t. No one is giving up on Cole, Hayden, but risking your life isn’t going to fix things. Cole wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Finally turning away from her plate, she gazed at him. His features were drawn and worn, a great deal of his mischief gone. Missing. A part of her mourned the old Blake, who had once laughed and joked with Fergus unconditionally.
Hayden wondered if that Blake would ever make a reappearance.
Smiling sadly, she nodded.
Blake removed his hand and returned to his din
ner. “Joseph was killed,” he confessed unexpectedly. He seemed reluctant to eat his own beans and pushed them aside. “It wasn’t that Devan wanted to come back to us, it’s that she needed to. I couldn’t turn her away. I just couldn’t. Not after everything that has happened.”
Hayden heaved a sigh and put down her plate.
Across the fire, she watched as Devan listened to Addie recount a fond memory. Hayden had noticed the shadows in the other woman’s eyes upon her return.
Now that she knew Joseph hadn’t made it, it suddenly all made sense.
Devan’s reappearance, her dimness.
The other woman had tucked her tail between her legs and simpered back to the only place she knew as home. Her pride must have taken quite the beating to ask Blake for her position back in the pack.
“She betrayed us, she betrayed you, and that’s not something any of us forgets, Hayden.” Blake shouldered her reassuringly. “Taking her back was a risk. I acknowledge that and will accept the consequences.”
“I just hope…”
Hayden trailed off and looked at Nathan and Fergus. The elder twin had his brother in a headlock as the Omega reached for the last piece of meat.
“I just hope they don’t get hurt again. They’ve been through so much already.” She tinkered with a loose piece of fabric on her jacket. “But who knows, maybe with her back, and Cole, things will go back to the way they were.”
Silence never felt as heavy as it did waiting for Blake’s response.
Turning, she blinked at the naked grief across the man’s face. She immediately felt silly for even saying something so naïve and optimistic.
“No,” Blake croaked hoarsely. “Things will never be the same.”
Hayden turned sullen once more.
Bathed in the orange light of the bonfire, they sat side by side, watching the pack interact freely. Things may never return to the way they were, but times like these were signs that not all was lost.
Though things were difficult, she and the others were fortunate to have each other.
Suddenly, a distinct hush settled over the reservation, immediately causing her senses to awaken. Other packs enjoyed their own dinner around their separate campfires. She’d gotten familiar with the gentle hum of distant and continuous conversation.