CHAPTER FIFTEEN || HARRIS #2
Poppy stood up, carrying her plate to the sink. “Well, this is a cheerful breakfast conversation. Next we’ll be talking about taxes and the bubonic plague.”
Hunter laughed at that, earning an amused look from his twin.
I glanced over at the twins and Daniel. They were allowing themselves to be much closer to each other than I’d ever seen before. Things had shifted between them after last night. I made a mental note to ask Reed about their shared history later, because it was clearly something.
While I was distracted, Simone must’ve approached the table, because when I looked up, there she was. “How are you feeling, detective?”
“Good,” I said immediately. “Thanks to you.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m glad I could help.”
“How is Sally doing?”
“She’s home now. The faerie is looking after her.”
“Right, but how is she doing with… everything? I don’t even want to think about what she’s been through.”
“Nathaniel’s blood healed her injuries,” Simone replied. “He also removed the worst of her memories from her encounter. She won’t remember much of what happened to her. Only that she went into the woods and woke up safe.”
Relief swept through me. “That’s good. She doesn’t need to carry any of that.”
“No,” Simone agreed. “She really doesn’t.”
“She’s alive. That’s what matters.” I paused, turning to Poppy, who was returning from the kitchen area after rinsing her plate. “You guys did most of the work, getting the portal open. Without that, there’s no way we would’ve—”
I broke off, the puzzle pieces snapping together like a sudden breakthrough on a difficult case.
Because becoming a werewolf put someone in a transition state between life and death.
That’s what Reed had told me. He’d been trying to scare me off the topic, since the bite would culminate in my death.
But the period before that happened…
Tamrand had said only someone in a liminal state could pass into the Otherworld.
My train of thought was interrupted when Poppy said, “About that. The portal spell took a lot out of us. Two of our witches are still unconscious. They’ll wake up, but it might take days.
The rest of us are depleted, both magically and physically.
” She hesitated, trading a look with Simone.
“We won’t be attempting something like that again anytime soon. ”
Poppy finished by sweeping her gaze across the table, effectively addressing the pack as a whole. She was saying the witches were out of commission. While we had saved Sally, we hadn’t solved the monster problem. It was still out there, and if it struck again, we were on our own.
Except…
Lindsey pursed her lips. “How soon is ‘soon’?”
“Days, for sure. Weeks, maybe, for the bigger stuff. Opening a portal to the Otherworld isn’t a parlor trick.
It requires anchoring the spell to something powerful and stable.
Usually celestial events.” She paused. “None of us regret anything, but we forced it to stay open without anchoring it and we paid the price.”
I noticed the way several pack members glanced over at me, as if checking to see if I wanted to say anything. Maybe because they knew I was Reed’s mate and instinctively deferred to me, even though I wasn’t even a werewolf.
“But everyone’s going to be okay?” I asked when no one else spoke.
“Yes,” Simone said firmly, exchanging another meaningful look with Poppy. “Everyone lived. That is what matters.”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah. It is.”
The conversation drifted after that, and I finished my breakfast surrounded by the pack, the vampires, and the witches. Despite the unease I felt at Reed’s vanishing act and Poppy’s revelation that the witches were depleted, being here felt good and natural. Like I belonged.
And hell, maybe I did.
* * *
I left the mess hall an hour later, stomach full and my mind clearer than it had been when I woke up.
Lacey intercepted me outside the door.
“Hey,” she said. “You heading into town?”
I blinked, surprised. “Yeah, actually. I was going to swing by the bar and check on Reed.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
I gave her a blank stare. Lacey had been cold to me since the moment we met—suspicious and outright hostile at times. And now she was offering me a ride?
I had my rental car, still parked in the lot. I could’ve driven myself. But the way she seemed almost nervous, as though afraid I’d say no, gave me pause. She definitely wasn’t hostile now, at least. And this might be a chance to smooth things over between us.
“Uh,” I said eloquently. “Err, sure. Yeah. Thanks.”
Relief flashed in her eyes and she nodded. “Follow me.”
She turned and started toward the parking area. I followed her.
Her truck was old and battered, the paint faded and the interior smelling faintly of mildew and motor oil. I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in as she started the engine.
We drove in silence for the first few minutes, the gravel road crunching under the tires. The forest pressed close on either side, dense and green, more innocent-seeming in daylight than it had any right to be.
Then Lacey said, “I think I owe you an apology.”
I turned to look at her, startled. “What?”
“I misjudged you,” she said, her eyes on the road.
“When you first showed up. I thought you were some rando who was going to mess with our alpha’s head.
Or someone who’d get himself killed and make everything harder on the rest of us.
” She paused. “I was a jerk to you about it. I shouldn’t have been. ”
I didn’t know what to say. “It’s… okay?”
“It’s not,” she said flatly. “You proved me wrong last night. You didn’t hesitate. You went in there and you saved Sally, even though it could’ve killed you. Even though it almost did. That takes guts. More than most people have.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling strangely touched. “I appreciate that.”
She nodded once, decisively, as if the matter was settled.
We drove in silence for another few minutes. Then I said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why are you so hard on Reed?”
Her jaw tightened and her fingers gripped the wheel so hard they whitened. “What do you mean?”
“You challenged him at Emma’s place. You’ve been pushing back since I got here.”
She went quiet, as if weighing her words. “You’re not wrong. It was happening before you arrived, too. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“So what is it?”
“Look, the pack is smaller than it’s ever been. Half of us left after Jeremy’s… mistakes. And now we’ve got this Algea, and the bleeds, and who knows what else is coming next. Reed’s doing his best, but…”
“But you don’t think it’s enough,” I finished.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She shot me a look. “You’re pushy, you know that?”
“Detective,” I said, tapping my temple. “It’s what I do. Occupational hazard.”
“Fine. Yeah. Jeremy was an asshole, but at least he made decisions. Reed second-guesses everything.”
“He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes Jeremy did.”
“I know that!” she snapped. Then she exhaled slowly. “And he can be a good alpha—I know it. I can see it. But he can’t do that when he’s completely cut off from the rest of us. He can’t have it both ways. He can’t be indecisive and closed off from input. It won’t work.”
I fell silent, staring at her.
“Most of us love Reed—I’ve known him his entire life.
We were both born into the pack, not bitten.
” She paused. “But when he became alpha, he went cold. Closed off. He started trying to shoulder everything alone, but that isn’t who he is.
He’s going to get himself and the rest of us killed. That’s why I’ve been hard on him.”
I blinked. “Wait. The problem is that he isn’t letting anyone in?”
She gave me a speculative look. “It has been. Now you have him actually engaging with us like we’re people. You have him acting like himself again. I hope it can last.”
“Me too. He cares about all of you.”
She nodded. Then she hesitated before adding, “Look, it’s not just about Reed. Mostly it is. But it’s also about Daniel.”
I frowned. “Daniel?”
“He’s my friend,” she said cautiously. “And Reed treats him like he’s a magical vending machine.
Need a spell? Call Daniel. Need research?
Call Daniel. But does Reed ever really see him?
Does he treat him like a person instead of a tool?
No.” She let out a breath, then added, “Jeremy did the same thing. But at least Jeremy helped him when it mattered.”
I held back my instinctive indignation—the irrational desire to defend Reed at all costs. What she was saying was important, if I had any hope of understanding the dynamics of the pack. “Helped him how, exactly?”
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel again.
“The twins. Lee and Hunter. They were Daniel’s childhood friends.
They were both dying. I don’t know the details—none of them ever talk about it.
When Daniel brought them to the commune, he asked Jeremy to turn them into wolves to save their lives.
He couldn’t stand the idea of losing them. ”
Everything clicked into place. “And they blame him for it.”
“Yeah,” she said bitterly. “They’ve never forgiven him. And I get it, sort of. They didn’t choose this life. They were dying, sure, but they didn’t consent to becoming wolves. Daniel made that choice for them. They were able to keep living, but at the cost of their old lives.”
“That’s rough,” I said quietly.
“It’s worse than rough,” she said. “And on top of that, Daniel’s been with us for years now, but he’s still not really one of us. No one’s ever initiated him. No one’s ever made him feel like he belongs here or made sure he felt welcome. He’s… tolerated. It kills me Reed can’t or won’t see it.”
I was quiet for a moment, letting that sink in.
I wasn’t sure if it was a fair assessment or not.
Reed and I had never really talked much about Daniel.
And it was possible Reed was so deep in his own struggles—becoming alpha and carrying the weight of the entire town on his back—that he’d missed how Daniel was feeling.
But I knew Reed. I was sure he would set it right, once I helped him see the issue.
“That would be hard,” I said finally. “To always feel like an outsider. Always looking in, never quite accepted.”
She glanced at me, her expression thawing. “Yeah. It would be.”
“I’ll talk to Reed about Daniel,” I said. “I promise.”
“You will?”
“Yeah. I will.” I paused. “But give Reed the chance to surprise you. Because I’m pretty sure he will.”
“Thanks,” she said, her eyes fixed on the road, her grip still tight on the wheel.
We pulled up in front of the bar a moment later. I unbuckled and opened the door, but before I could step out, Lacey said, “Harris?”
I looked back at her.
“You’re not like Reed,” she said. “You’re… more open. In a good way.” She hesitated. “I guess opposites really do attract.”
“He’s not as closed off as you think.”
She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Maybe.”
I stepped out of the truck, but before I could close the door, she added, “And Harris? You don’t ever have to worry about not fitting in. You’re one of us now. Even if you’re not a wolf. You proved that last night. You belong here.”
I locked eyes with her, “Thanks, Lacey.”
She nodded once, then drove off, leaving me standing in front of the bar, staring after her. The emotion I was left feeling was hard to put into words—both warm and fierce at the same time—a fire in my belly, all mixed up with a sense of conviction.
After a moment, I turned to the door leading into the Crescent Moon Bar, already oddly familiar, and a strange clarity settled over me.
Yeah, going back to Los Angeles seemed impossible now. That life didn’t fit anymore.
But this place and these people—not to mention Reed—this was all real. I wanted to be here. I wanted Crescent Springs to be my home. But before that could happen, I needed to put things right with my mate.
I squared my shoulders, steeling myself, and walked inside.