Loving My Pack

by Lane Whitt

  “We could burn down all their buildings,” Tristan chimes in. “That would force them to move. Make them start from scratch.”

  “Yes. That.” I nod in agreement, pointing at Tristan.

  Remy sighs. “You don’t mean that, Kitten. I wish we could punish them in some significant way, but there’s no way to do that without punishing the innocent and breeding a new generation of hate. You don’t want to do that to children.”

  With the pain of my parents’ deaths still fresh in my veins, I kind of do want that. Why should these kids be allowed to have what I wasn’t given a chance to? If the world was a just place, I’d have them all thrown in dumpsters and see which of them survives.

  But I know that’s the pain talking. I know, just like me, these children haven’t done anything to deserve such a fate. If I was clear-headed, I’d agree with Remy that nothing more can be done. Hopefully, these women stop behaving selfishly and change their ways. “Okay, Remy. Let’s just go. I can’t forgive them right now, maybe never, but I refuse to care about them in this moment. I want to go home.”

  “That’s right, Love. Let’s go home.” He takes my hand, placing it in the crook of his arm, not caring that I’m smearing Sibyl’s blood on his white shirt.

  My guys gather around me as I’m undressed and led into the water. They help me get the blood off and out of my hair. I’m given Ash’s black button-down, which fits me like a dress. We walk into the woods, pausing in a clearing for Remy to run back and warn the village not to seek protection with any other wolf packs.

  Walking is much slower going than running, but I don’t trust myself yet not turn back and slaughter them all if I let my wolf loose.

  When the sun finally sets on this horrifying day, we choose to run the rest of the way. Concern for the changed wolves we met the day before overrides my need for vengeance. We get as close to the airport as we can in wolf form before shifting and finding clothes. We probably look odd sans shoes, but no one seems to notice.

  The airport Remy sent them to is a small one, nearly abandoned at this hour. The stray pack is clearly trying to keep a low profile as they stand vigilant in a secluded part of the airport, keeping watch. There’s only a few more of them than yesterday, as they said there would be. They look as haggard as we are.

  “Thank fuck. We thought you weren’t going to show. We had to fight our way here, and then you didn’t show,” the talkative one relays as soon as he sees us.

  “We’ve had out own shit to deal with. We’re glad to see you all made it whole,” Ash tells him, shaking his hand.

  The men eye me, taking in my vacant state. I don’t currently give a damn what they think of me. They seem to pick up on this and direct their questions to the guys. Jace eventually places a call to the other airport and has the planes delivered here. He also has the hotel send a carrier with our bags. Apparently, they never got the chance to get out of the hotel before my button went off. Finn explained that when I ran as a wolf every step I took pressed it, constantly sending my location out to them. They were worried at first, thinking something majorly wrong had happened. It had, but before all of that went down they were able to catch up to us, able to run faster than the Australian, natural wolves. They stayed back until I pressed the button on purpose. That explained how they got there as fast as they did.

  The baggage arrives before our planes do. Jace and Logan sift through clothing, finding what they think will fit the new guys. They shower, shave and change, looking even younger than before. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear one guy was only thirteen, tops. Looks don’t mean anything when it comes to changed wolves, though. That thirteen-year-old could be eighty or two-hundred years old.

  I’m given my own clothes to dress in, a comfortable pair of sleep pants, a cami and sweater set, and colorful toe-socks. When I exit the restroom, all the guys seem to be busy talking or on their phones, so I seek out a quiet corner to relax in, well within eyesight of my mates.

  After a time, I sense a new presence near me. By this point I’ve stretched out over several seats, under the unmovable arm bars. I continue to trace the mini figure-eights in the carpeting with a finger, ignoring whoever it is.

  “You’re different today,” the person finally speaks up.

  “What’s your name?” I ask lazily.

  “Quinn, Princess,” he responds.

  I snort. “It’s Luna. I never was a princess. And Quinn? I’m almost never the same person day to day anymore.” I don’t know why I’m admitting anything to a stranger, but it feels good to say it out loud.

  He whistles. “Sounds like some heavy thoughts you’re having there.”

  I smirk. You think? “Your voice sounds like music,” I say instead.

  He laughs. “You think so? Want me to sing you a tune?”

  I giggle lightly. “You sing?”

  “From time to time,” he tells me. “It’s one of the jobs that’s easier to keep, believe it or not. Stage name, nomad lifestyle, paid in cash…it makes life easier at times.”

  “Yeah, I used to feel that way about the diner I worked at. I didn’t have a stage name, but everyone assumes Kitten is a nickname, anyway.” I shrug awkwardly from my prone position.

  “You worked at a diner?” Quinn asks in disbelief.

  “Yep, and an ice rink, and a hotel laundry facility. All this?” I wave my hand around wildly. “It’s new to me. I was a street rat until fairly recently.”

  “That explains a lot, actually,” he says thoughtfully.

  “Does it?” I raise a brow, turning to look at him for the first time. He’s an attractive guy, one might say. His brown hair hangs past broad shoulders, sky-blue eyes full of pain and mischief. A scar cuts through one dark eyebrow, adding mystery to the young-looking man.

  “Forgive me if I’m crass, but it’s easier to believe a street rat could take on the world, as you have, rather than some princess raised in a castle,” he tells me.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know why you keep saying I’m taking on the world and all that. I’ve made a few phone calls and one disastrous trip to Australia.”

  “Why was your trip here a disaster?” he deflects.

  “Oh, you know…I killed some people and dethroned an Alpha. I came here to end a war and gave them a reason to fight one instead. All a day’s work for a rogue princess.”

  He whistles again. “Imagine what you could do with a week,” he jokes. We both laugh. Deep, side-stitch laughter even though nothing is funny. I think we both just need it.

  My laughter tapers off to tears. I shove them away, over the damn things. I turn to lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. I calm myself with a deep sigh. Quinn moves so that his back is leaning on the seats I’m lying on. We sit in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts.

  “Sometimes you have to concentrate on the good things,” he says, low enough that I have to strain to hear him. “Even if all you have to hold on to is a few moments of peace that you can barely remember. You have to take it in both hands and hold on for dear life, because the good things are what make the rest of it worth it.”

  “I have a kid. He’s a good thing,” I tell him. “I kind of stole him,” I admit.

  He chuckles. “Of course, you did. You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?”

  I shrug. “I always thought I was a nice, decent person. I’m only starting to see that I may also be a stubborn, homicidal wolf with rage issues.”

  He’s silent again, probably figuring out how to get away from me as quickly as possible. I wouldn’t blame him. You should definitely run from anyone admitting to being homicidal.

  “You know how everyone else describes you?” he asks eventually.

  “Do I wanna know?” I cringe.

  “It might help. They say you’re like an avenging angel. Righteous beyond belief. You’re not concerned with politics. You storm in, Ivaskov eyes blazing, and get things done. So, where you see a homicidal wolf with rage issues, the oppressed wolves of
the world see hope.”

  “I don’t know if I can look at it that way,” I tell him.

  “Maybe not. There’s a saying, you know? That a reluctant leader is usually best suited for the job.”

  “That’s a weird saying,” I say through a yawn.

  “Look, I know you have your mates and probably lots of people you can talk to, but if you ever need another friend, I’m here, okay?” he offers.

  I blink at the back of his head. “I don’t think I’ve really been friends with anyone. I’m probably bad at it.”

  He laughs quietly, shoulders shaking. Turning, he meets my eyes. “Then I’ll be your first one. Friends get to tell other friends when they’re being homicidal wolves with rage issues. I’ll help you figure that out, if you want,” he jokes. At least, I think he’s joking.

  I smile. “Okay, then. Friends it is.” I hold my hand out for him to shake. I don’t know if that’s right, but it seems the same as making a deal.

  He takes my hand, shaking it. “Friends.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Being carried onto planes while asleep is apparently a hobby of mine. This time, I’m able to come to life enough to brush my teeth and climb into bed myself. Sliding in between Ash and Reed, I try to get comfortable. I can’t.

  “Come here,” Ash exhales, sliding an arm under my neck and the other gripping my hip, pulling me into him. He throws a heavy leg over mine, trapping me. “You’re not evil for what you did today. I promise.” Reading me correctly, as always, my shadow goes out of his way to reassure me.

  “Even what I did to Tristan? I fed his crazy with my own today. No way did that help him with his issues.” My guilt eats away at me.

  “Tristan had those issues way before he met you. If anything, I think you connected with him on a level no one else has been able to reach him on. Now that he knows you share in that kind of darkness with him he’s more apt to listen to you than he is us.”

  Reed turns so that I can see his hazel eyes. They’re sad, as expected, but he’s not pulling away from me. He’s here, and that’s something.

  “She said, ‘She was his favorite’. What do you think that means?” I ask out of nowhere. I can’t get those words out of my head.

  “I don’t know,” Reed answers, thinking I was talking to him since I’m staring at him.

  “It’s what she said first. It’s odd, don’t you think? When I forced her to tell me about my mother, the first thing that came out of her mouth was ‘she was his favorite’. Almost like she was jealous,” I continue on.

  “Does it matter?” Reed asks gently.

  I huff. “It all matters, Reed. It matters to me.”

  “You’ll drive yourself insane with thoughts like that. Isn’t it better to focus on finally having your answers? Now you know that your parents were in love. They both wanted you, and didn’t want to leave you.”

  “Somehow, that makes it worse,” I tell him.

  “She fought for you,” Ash rumbles behind me. “You thought she threw you away, but she fought for you. I know that’s important to you.”

  “It is,” I say quietly.

  “They never bonded,” I point out. Something about this seems important. “If they loved each other, and she was in danger, then why didn’t he change her and bond them together? She would have been stronger.”

  “She said the baby, you, made your mother stronger than they expected. Maybe your father thought that would be enough to protect her. Or he didn’t know she was in danger at all,” Reed guesses.

  “He was an Alpha and she was pregnant with his only heir. You don’t think he’d do everything he could to keep her safe?” I mean, really.

  As I continue to think about it, I start to giggle. “Oh my God. I’m an idiot,” I say as I jerk the covers away and dash for the main cabin.

  Most of the guys are asleep, reclined in seats and sprawled out where there’s room. Kellan and Finn sit side by side, arms and legs crossed identically as their heads lean into each other. They’re almost too cute to wake.

  I shake them both anyway. “Wake up, wake up!” I giggle excitedly.

  “Kitten?” Kellan asks groggily.

  “Yep. Me. I have the best news ever!” I squeal.

  Finn looks at me warily, probably wondering how I went from depressed to unnaturally excited in the span of an hour. In fact, he probably assumes I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have, but that’s why I have these two. One twin to diagnose me, the other to find a way to fix me.

  “They never bonded!” I tell them with a big smile.

  “Who?” Kellan asks.

  “My parents. They weren’t bonded. Odd, right? Also odd…why would my father not give the cure to his own pack members?” I ask, not really looking for an answer.

  “He only gave it to the women at the village,” Finn says, drawing it out. I think he’s starting to put it together, too.

  “Right. A village that was still secluded, instead of doing his research on his own pack lands? If they were cured then why was he still working in secret, not dosing his own female population with the cure?” I say skeptically.

  “You think he didn’t have it?” Finn asks.

  “I think he figured out that changeable females, unbonded, were still fertile and able to bear human babies. Whatever he gave them wasn’t a cure for them…it was a cure for their offspring,” I theorize.

  Finn’s eyes light up. “Most wolves would bond before trying to make babies. Bonded females were at the mercy of the disease, probably carried by their mates and transferred in the bonding process. Bonded wolves equal wolf pregnancy resulting in a pup. Wolf plus unbonded changeable female equals what? A human pregnancy resulting in a changeable male or female baby?”

  “Or…a human child already carrying their wolf inside them, needing to bond to change? Like me. I don’t think those women were given a cure, I think I was the cure my mother bragged about. If my father had a cure, he’d have shared it. I know he would. But my mother got it from somewhere that he found the cure, most likely him telling her so after she became pregnant.”

  “That would mean that all his work wasn’t lost. Whatever he gave them, gave your mother, would still be in your DNA. We could reverse engineer it and find out what it was.” Finn says quickly, excited.

  “That would work for the infertile females…maybe. But what Kitten’s saying could mean that she and the other children at the village might be the cure itself. We could possibly use her blood to cure females of infertility and also protect any female wolves at birth from the disease itself,” Kellan states to his brother.

  Then it clicks. “The scent! The scent at the village. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I don’t forget things, but I couldn’t remember where I’ve smelled it before. Because it smelled like me. Like the blanket I was found with in the dumpster. I didn’t pick up on it because I smelled everything else, I didn’t think to find my own scent on the blanket. Tell me we brought my treasure chest with us when we moved.”

  “We did,” Finn confirms.

  “Yes! Then I can test my theory. If I’m correct, that would mean that all those kids at the village carry the cure with them, too. That’s the only reason they’d smell like me, right?”

  “Right. Your parents were killed right at your birth, and those children were younger; they can’t be siblings,” Finn states.

  “That would also explain why those women still agreed to mate with wolves when they seem to hate us so much. They must have known that any children they had with wolves would be protected from the virus. Those made with human men would have been susceptible, perhaps. Either that, or they weren’t willing to risk it,” Kellan theorizes.

  “We’ll need to put together a lab as soon as possible,” Finn says as he reaches for his laptop.

  “You think we’re right? That we really might solve this after all?” I ask.

  “You did, smart girl. You put the pieces together.” Finn says sweetly, kissing me loud and wet on the chee
k. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so excited.

  “Your father would be very proud of you, Kitten,” Remy says from behind me, causing me to jump out of my skin.

  My other mates are all awake now, having watched the three of us silently, letting us work through our thoughts. “You think so?” I ask through a smile.

  “He would,” Albert confirms. He knew the man, so I guess he would know.

  “Good came out of this trip after all?” I question.

  “It did,” Remy confirms. I smile like an idiot, swiping happy tears from my face with the back of my sweater.

  Ash picks me up, carrying me back to bed and wrapping me up in the blanket, burrito-style. “Get some sleep, baby. You need to relax and I’m tired. Do me a favor? Don’t move until I get up. I don’t want you out of my sight for a while.”

  “Okay,” I promise.

  Reed climbs back into bed a while later, snuggling into my side and dozing off quickly. My mind is working too hard to sleep, but I stay still and let them get some rest. Eventually I drift off in a fitful sleep, too.

  We arrive home to cheers and applause from the gathered pack on the front lawn. I don’t know why they’re cheering, but I love their enthusiasm. It’s infectious. The crowd parts as we make our way through them to the house. Only a few reach out to the guys, people they know, but each one has a kind word to say about our return. Whatever this is, it’s nice.

  Only a few murmurs and rumblings take place as Quinn and his friends follow behind us. Then again, my pack is fairly used to changed wolves by this point.

  Mikey and my grandfather wait for us just inside the door. I’m shocked as Mikey launches his little body at me, hugging me around the waist. “Miss me?” I ask with a laugh.

  “Maybe,” he grumbles, but smiles back at me.

  “Well, I missed you,” I tell him, running my fingers through his hair. “Were you good?”

  “Never!” he says proudly.

  I laugh, hugging him. “That’s my boy.” I toss a wink at my grandfather to let him know I’m joking. I really hope Mikey didn’t cause him too much trouble while I was away. For some reason, the kid has a knack for seeking out trouble.