“Sushi refers to the seaweed wrap, and it usually comes with rice and little strips of avocado and cucumber,” I said.
Hailey laughed. “Sounds like someone is dreaming of a California roll.”
When the fish were done cooking, we sat around the campfire and divvied up the goods. Wren pulled out the bag of potato chips that he’d bought from the gas station and joked that we now had an official fish and chips meal. The group laughed at that, taking a few chips as the bag got passed around the campfire. Considering our current circumstance, the food wasn’t half bad.
We talked–not about our impending responsibilities, but about ordinary things that normal human teenagers got to converse about. Ryker was the exception; he stayed quiet, but he watched Blaire, entirely absorbed in her stories about Ireland and all the trouble she and Bryna had gotten into as girls. Even Hailey was being pleasant.
Before the meeting with the council, I had seen Thornwood as the enemy, but now… something was changing. I saw those enemy lines shrinking, knowing deep down that they were never the bad guys. They were dangerous, yes, but Ryker was a good leader with his pack’s best interests at heart. Rhea had been right for suggesting a forge in our alliance; the truth was that we needed each other.
The sun had slipped below the horizon line, disappearing behind the forest. We were miles away from civilization, and across the sound I could scarcely see pinpricks of twinkling lights, an indication that life existed somewhere out there.
“What are you thinking about?” Wren asked as he reached up to sweep the curtain of my wind-blown hair back from my face.
“The cottage and how it got here–who it belonged to, and why it’s been abandoned. Just seems strange that it’s out here in the middle of no-man’s-land.”
“It was built in the twenties,” Ryker said from across the fire. “It was a safehouse for rum runners hiding from the law.”
“How do you know?”
“There’s a storage cellar on the side of the cottage, it’s filled with old whiskey crates,” he replied.
“Is there still whiskey down there?” Hailey asked.
“Some,” Ryker said.
“Thanks for holding out,” Hailey said sardonically, pulling herself to her feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To drink whiskey from the age of prohibition,” she replied, heading for the side of the cottage.
“The legal drinking age is twenty-one Hailey Reynolds, and you are neither legal nor twenty-one.”
“Bite me, Ryker. We’re in the middle of nowhere and it’s not like anyone is missing it,” she called over her shoulder.
Ryker’s jaw fixed, muscle flexing as firelight danced across his ebony eyes. He shook his head but said nothing.
“We need her sharp,” Bryna told him. “We don’t know when the enchantress will arrive and the last thing we need is to be looking after a fluthered werewolf.”
Ryker turned his sharp gaze on Bryna. “If you think you can stop her, be my guest.” He rose to his feet, straightening the hem of his jacket. “I’m going to gather more firewood. It’s going to get cold tonight.”
“I’ll go with you,” I blurted. The whole camp shot me a questioning look, but I ignored them. I squeezed Wren’s hand before sliding down from the boulder. “I’ll be fine,” I said in a lower tone. His jaw tightened as his brows furrowed, but he managed a stiff nod before I let go of his hand.
Ryker’s expression remained neutral, but I could see the curiosity behind his eyes as I joined him on the other side of the fire. He tilted his head, gesturing towards the tree line. I walked beside him in silence. The sound of the ocean’s waves crashing against the shoreline filled my ears as we walked until even that became a muffled whisper. I called on Spirit, using the indigo glow to light my way.
“They can’t hear you now,” Ryker said, finally breaking the silence. I met his gaze, slightly charged with a touch of the Change. “That is why you wanted to come with me, right?”
I reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “I wouldn’t ask you anything I couldn’t say in front of Wren.”
“So what do you want?” His tone was cut and dry, but not disrespectful or snappy.
“I want to talk to you about our alliance, and about Rhea. There was a reason she wanted us to work together, and I believe it’s because the forces of Light have been divided for too long. Supernaturals stick to their own races and don’t really integrate. We’re going to have to change that if we have a chance at destroying the Darkness.”
“I’m listening,” Ryker replied.
“I’ve been thinking about your plan to move the pack to Silver Mountain. When we make it back from all this, I want to know what your intentions are.”
Ryker snickered. “It’s a shame you’re not a wolf–bossy as you are.”
My lower lip twitched. “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.” He tucked his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and leaned his massive frame against the trunk of a tree. “Rhea has been pushing a move on Thornwood for the last year but my father was very firm on his opposition because of the alliance with Niall. I may not have agreed with it, but I did respect it.”
“Why does Rhea want your pack to move?”
“Well,” Ryker began, “when some of the pack broke from my lead and chose to follow Nyla, Rhea saw a shift between Light and Dark. She knew about the Nexus in Silver Mountain and knew that other Supernaturals would be drawn to that area. She wanted us there to help protect it.” He lowered his gaze, eyebrows lifting.
“Too bad you didn’t start from that angle when you propositioned Wren…”
“Like that would have made a difference.” He sniggered, bent over at the waist and picked up a broken piece of a branch. “I was hoping if we had his allegiance, it would make the transition into Silver Mountain easier.”
“So you threatened to take his life if he didn’t join,” I paused, folding my arms over my chest. “I guess I sort of fail to see how that’s rolling out the welcome mat.”
Ryker’s lips spread into a slow smile.
“Oh wait, let me guess… That’s just a werewolf thing. I mean, you have to show your status, make sure dominance is established.
“Bossy and intuitive.”
I rolled my eyes. “Look. Silver Mountain has been home to me all my life. I don’t–” I corrected myself, “–I didn’t trust you. I’m not saying I’m ready to roll out the welcome mat either, but, I think this trip has shown me a lot about the kind of being you are... Ultimately I think we want the same things. I may not be a werewolf, but I understand what it means to be a leader that people depend on. I know how important it is for you to have the respect of your pack and still have that dominance established. Tell your pack whatever you want about moving territories, but understand this… Silver Mountain is mine. If you’re going to live there, I’ll have rules I expect you and your pack to follow.”
Ryker’s eyes glowed with the Change, his canines exposed from his smile. I held my ground as the amulet began to pulse and swell like the ebb and flow of the ocean’s tide. The power was awakening, humming with electricity. That’s right, White One, make them all obey… I fought like crazy not to reach up and touch it. It wanted me to use the power to force my will over the werewolves, but I wouldn’t–no matter how strong the pull was corrupting that desire. When Ryker didn’t say anything, I continued, “We both know I have the power to make this decision for you,” I paused, “but out of respect for your position, I chose to have this conversation with you alone. The rest of the pack never has to know that these conditions came from me.”
&n
bsp; “And what are they?” His tone was a low growl.
“Your werewolf identities can never be made known to the humans. There can’t be any wolf sightings in town–especially with the forest wardens on high alert for the rogue pack. Until things settle down, I would recommend keeping your Changes limited to nightfall. No hunting in the Nexus. Any major decisions the council makes should be brought to the Trinity for the sake of respect. And, I know it’s going to be extremely hard for you, but, you’re going to need to try and blend in. And no trashy Were bars.”
Ryker barked out a laugh. “And what of the decisions the Trinity makes… Are you planning on sharing those with the council–for the sake of respect?”
“I’m planning on running them by you,” I said. “If you choose to take them to the council, that’s your business.”
“I like you, Quinn Callaghan, you’ve got nerve.”
“So, I take that to mean you’re in agreement with my terms?”
He stared at me long and hard before nodding. “Silver Mountain is yours.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. I took it, feeling his palm crush around mine.
“So mote it be.”
“So mote it be,” he echoed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Thing in Between
Ryker and I finished collecting firewood and began making the trek back to our campsite. In the distance, I spotted Hailey tipping a bottle to her lips, the glow of firelight refracting from the glass. Ryker growled under his breath.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Be my guest,” Ryker replied with a plastic smile.
“For someone in your position, you let her get away with a lot…” I observed. “What’s their story–Maddox and Hailey’s I mean.”
Ryker’s jaw flexed before he answered. “Their parents were killed by werewolves. They were hunting inside the territory of another established pack on the night of a full moon and the Alpha Master intervened. He killed their father first, and their mother died trying to defend her mate. Maddox was ten and Hailey was only eight.”
I dropped my gaze from his face, tightening my arms around the bundle I was carrying.
“I know what you must be thinking,” Ryker said, studying me from the side. “But there are rules that must be followed, Quinn. We make no exceptions. It’s just our nature–the way of the beast.”
I clenched my jaw, nodding once. “I’m not a werewolf,” I said, touching the moonstone at my throat, “but I know what it’s like to be governed by something you can’t control. I get that you’re not entirely human, but sometimes I overlook the animal.”
Ryker shifted his bundle. “When Rebecca and John died, Thomas brought Hailey and Maddox to live with us. They had no other family. I go easy on her because she’s still angry at the world for taking her parents away from her. I go easy on her because I never want her to question her place in my pack–in my family.”
I looked up at him then, watching as the mask peeled away and he showed me a glimpse of the man that was not at all a beast, but entirely human.
At the campfire, Hailey stumbled and dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the sand. She giggled, sweeping the curtain of blonde hair back from her face. “I’m going to get her up to bed,” Ryker said. “We’ll talk later, White Witch.”
I drew a breath and sighed, choosing to head for the cabin. Blaire was coming down the stairs when I entered through the door. “Hey,” she said, “back with the kindling I see.”
I dumped the load of wood into the hearth and brushed bits of bark and dried leaves from my clothing. “Bryna already go to bed?” I asked.
“She did,” Blaire told me, joining me in front of the fireplace. “I’d love to know what you and Ryker talked about on your little adventure.”
Just then, Ryker shuffled through the doorway with a very intoxicated-looking blonde werewolf in his arms. Hailey rolled her head to his chest, murmuring something inaudible as he stepped into the living quarters. “Can she have one of the bedrooms?”
“Second door on the right,” Blaire said, thumbing towards the staircase. “Bryna is in the other.”
Ryker nodded and carried Hailey up the stairs. Blaire shot me a questioning look.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I said, “can I tell you tomorrow?”
“Of course.” She pressed her lips into a smile. “Let’s get this fire going, shall we? I’ll summon Water in case the chimney is clogged and we end up smoking ourselves out.”
I chuckled as I called on Fire. “You ready?”
“Ready,” she replied.
“Solas,” I commanded, and the flame from my palm leapt into the hearth, igniting the dried leaves and branches we’d collected.
“Well done, you.” Blaire grinned. She sat down beside me, pulling her knees to her chest as her arms wrapped around them.
I watched the hypnotic dance of the gypsy flames licking at the branches in the hearth. It had been a long couple of days, and exhaustion was taking root. I heard footsteps shuffling on the floor above us and knew Ryker was getting Hailey tucked into bed.
“You should get some rest,” Blaire said. “There’s no sense in everyone staying up when we’ve agreed to take watches.”
“Then what’s your excuse?” I raised my eyebrows. “Ryker agreed to take the first-watch and Wren has second.”
She shot me a look. “Trusting a Were not to fall asleep on the job,” she scoffed.
“Oh come on Blaire, Ryker isn’t so bad.”
“You’ve spent less than forty-eight hours with the man and you’ve decided he’s all good, yeah?”
“No. I just think there’s a lot more to him than what meets the eye.” I shrugged. “He has to present himself in a certain way for his pack, but I think that’s just one of the many faces he has to wear.”
Blaire huffed, brushing a strand of hair back from her forehead. “Or maybe he’s worn the different faces for so long he doesn’t know who he really is.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Blaire.” There was more to Ryker than I’d first gathered. Blaire would see that too whenever she opened her heart enough to learn that not all werewolves were going to treat her as Griffin had. “Stay awake if you want, but Ryker won’t let us down. I’m going to find Wren and check the grimoire one more time before bed.”
“If you need me I’ll be here,” Blaire said, reaching for her pack to roll out her sleeping bag in front of the hearth.
The moon wasn’t visible in the night sky, but millions of stars lit up the midnight canvas, twinkling above the ocean like miniature homing beacons. I found Wren sitting on top of one of the boulders facing the ocean, the wind blowing through his hair. The night was glowing on his skin, just as it always had, never failing to make my heart skip a beat. There was really no point trying to sneak up on a werewolf but I practiced walking quietly anyway. The wind was coming in from the sea, playing to my advantage. I crouched, preparing to spring on his back, but as I lunged he twisted and caught me. He laughed and hauled me into the small space in front of him, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Silly girl,” he whispered against my ear, “when will you ever learn there’s no such thing as sneaking up on a werewolf?”
“It’s still fun to try,” I said.
“So, are you planning to tell me what was so important that you had to talk to Ryker alone?” His tone had stiffened a little.
I winced. I knew he wouldn’t have liked me going off with him. I sucked in a deep breath before explaining my reasons. I told him about our alliance moving forward when we returned to Silver Mountain and told him about the terms I’d given Ryker. When I fin
ished, Wren seemed to relax. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to be there, I just didn’t want Ryker to feel threatened.”
“And you think my presence causes that?” Wren lifted his trademark eyebrow.
“Think about it,” I said, “you belong to the Trinity, which sort of makes you the Alpha of all Alphas, right? That’s bound to be intimidating.”
Wren considered this, running his thumb along the sharp edge of his jaw. “I just wish you’d told me about it before you went off with him.”
“Well I hadn’t exactly planned the whole thing out,” I admitted. “The opportunity presented itself and I acted. You know I do better with spur-of-the-moment decisions. It’s having all the time in between to think and wonder that causes me to panic.”
Wren chuckled. “Yes, I’ve learned that about you.”
“I am sorry though, if I caused you to worry.”
“The day I stop worrying about you is the day the world stops spinning on its axis.” He tightened his arms around me, delivering a kiss to the curve of my cheekbone.
“I love you, Wren.”
He caught my chin, tilting my face to his and lowered his mouth to mine. His thumb swept along my jaw when the kiss ended, and he tipped his forehead to rest on mine. “You are my whole world,” he whispered.
I swept my hand across my mother’s letter, knees tucked to my chest. Wren was lying beside me on his back, face tilted toward the heavens. A flutter of movement drew my attention to the cottage where ‘Orion’ was perched on the roof; the owl’s watchful eyes scanning its surroundings in silence. The cottage had been quiet for a while now–the fire before me had died down to a low flicker, the embers glowing in the cracks of the branches like molten lava. The glow held my gaze with its entrancing pulse; beating like a heart. My own heartbeat seemed to match its rhythm, but despite the steadiness, mine would not rest.
The Calling of the Trinity (Trinity Cycle Book 2) Page 28