Chapter 24 – Carina
Twenty-Four
CARINA
When Ryder first mentioned caves, I envisioned a cavern in the side of a mountain, grey, and large enough to fit a group of people.
I was correct.
He leads me to a wide opening in the side of the rock face that reveals only darkness. His arm brushes mine as he enters, remaining close. The cave spans a couple feet above our heads and is narrow, but it soon stretches even wider into an entranceway that slopes downwards.
“The ramp helps keep pups inside during the colder days,” he comments, leading me deeper down. His arm juts to the side in an offering but the ground levels out before I can fall on my face.
A short hallway leads to a bigger opening, about half the size of the main part of their camp. A hole in the ground in the centre is filled with wood, more piles resting beside it, suggesting a fire pit.
Ryder then shows me a second room off to the side, where some of the crates and materials have been stacked, explaining the materials slowly getting carried here over the week.
He walks down the connected pathway, which breaks off into two.
Then two into four, four into eight, and onwards.
He doesn’t take me down every branch off the main corridor, explaining that they’re rooms for each pack member or family.
He starts naming off a few, of people I know. Points to where Miriam and her mate and pup will stay, and then the one beside it for Leah and Claire, and beside it, Xander’s.
“The pack’s beta will always stay to the right of the Alpha’s cave. Which ensured Leah got this one because Xander doesn’t do well not having her nearby.”
It’s sad for two people to be so in love with one another but not act on it.
Having the possibility of love seems further away than ever. After Sloane is finished with me—if I’m still alive—the only warlock who’ll want me is one from her coven, one who’s Dark. We’ll bond in a union of black magick and be one ol’, happy Dark family.
Lost in depressing thoughts, I miss Ryder stopping in the mouth of another cave, indicating for me to enter first. A strange look fills his eyes. Apprehension? Fear?
This one is larger than the others, both in height and width. The dip in the floor consumes much of the far right corner and inside is a pile of furs ready to be slept in, like the one in his cabin.
He didn’t take me inside any of the other caves. He also didn’t watch me explore like I was the predator. Which makes this cave…
“Yours?”
“Yeah.”
Unlike most of the others, Ryder’s sleeping area seems almost complete, and knowing exactly what furs feels like against my skin, I can’t help but test this pile out either.
Without a thought as to the tentative friendship between us—are we even considered that?
—I kick off my shoes and slide into the concavity, groaning as I flop to my back.
My hair fans around me, my eyes on the cave roof, all of it decorated with shiny white gems which create their own light.
“Man, I could pass out here.”
Silence is heavy, a prickling sense of something not being quite right.
Ryder hasn’t moved from the entranceway.
His eyes grip into a darkness never seen before, but flash silver with my attention.
His tongue dabs at his bottom lip, the motion sweeping my mind into a different place—somewhere dangerous.
For the first time since meeting him, I’m reminded he’s a wolf. An animal. A hunter.
A predator.
While I’m laying here, so easy to be attacked, mauled…eaten.
But this is Ryder. He won’t harm me.
So, distracting myself from the heat spanning my insides, I ask, “Why are your beds so comfy? I swear, I could happily die in the one in your cabin, but this thing?” My arms stretch to either side, unable to reach the edges. “A hole in the ground should not be this cozy.”
“Nest,” is all he grunts, his voice a rough scrape against the cave’s deafening silence. “Our beds are called our nest.” Steps approach. “Wolves are possessive about their space. It’s sacred.”
I’d been slowly learning a bit about shifter culture over the days, mainly thanks to Leah. Everything is different from the dangerous villains Mom made them out to be. They’re simply living peacefully—before Sloane came along anyway.
“How so?” I turn, coming up onto my knees, finding him closer, hovering partway between the entrance and me. Shallow breaths raise his chest, and corded muscles tighten in his neck. I follow the line to his arms, hands clenching with each exhale as he scans me.
“Males create their nests with a future mate in mind—not necessarily a specific person, but we prepare the nest in preparation. Casual sex is kept away, because the only people allowed in them are mated pairs and the children they create.”
Oh. Well, that may explain his behaviours. I lower onto my heels as my gaze drops to the furs peeking between my knees. The ones that are part of an area I should probably get out of.
“Am I—should I?”
His eyes flash away from the wall he’s been otherwise staring at. They’re a menacing silver again—a colour I really need to ask him about. It happens so often, but I’ve caught none of the others doing it.
“You’re fine.” His tone sounds too rough for “fine”, but moving will call attention to being in it, so frozen, I remain.
“I could have slept on the floor of your cabin.”
“You also could have had your own set aside so you weren’t in anyone’s home, but here we are. I put you in mine because I wanted you there.”
I sink lower, chewing on my bottom lip. My mind races with every possibility of those words—and comes up with nothing.
Less than nothing when he prowls—prowls, because there’s no other term for it—in my direction.
His eyes, dark again, glint with the threat of pain—but I don’t feel he’d harm me.
He’s a creature cornered, whereas I’m the threat to his life.
Head down, I slide onto the lip and keep my socked feet buried within the furs. “Knees started to hurt,” I explain, though it’s a lie.
The cave is silent, but it feels loud. The pressure of the conversation settles like a cloak of uncertainty onto my shoulders.
Talk. Say anything. First thing that comes to mind.
“So…mates?” That was the first thing? Fuck my life. “How’s that work?”
There’s a beat of silence before he approaches, his feet scuffing on the dirt and stone. He settles across from me, bringing his knees up to wrap his arms around them while keeping his feet outside the nest.
“Explain witch relationships first. More details than what you gave the other day. How do you choose a mate?”
One glance at his deadly expression heightens my curiosity over why he wants to know this fading.
“Like humans, we date. At its core, we choose a person we feel connected to. Magick calls to magick and if two are compatible, they remain together. During a binding ceremony beneath Hecate occurring on full moon nights, a couple’s powers are bound together, so we pick who we feel comfortable with.
Only death ends the union. Blood magick used to be used to strengthen the bond, but it’s been considered a form of black magick in recent decades, and most covens ban anything Dark, so no one uses it anymore. ”
“Blood.” He shivers. “You ever do that?”
“And have Mom blast my ass from here to Hawaii? That’s a funny joke. Your turn; mates and shifters.”
He sighs, unhooking his hands from his knees to instead stretch them behind him.
“In some ways, it’s similar. Shifters choose based on who they best connect with, and everything’s a mutual agreement between the couple.
Generally, we’re encouraged to look outside the pack, to form inter-pack connections. ”
“There’s others?” My question, admittingly pretty stupid, comes out as a squeak. Of course there’s others. It’s not like Highridge is the only coven in existence, so obviously there’d be other packs.
“There are others. Plenty worldwide, a few in the area. That’s how most wolves pick mates, but there is one more way. It’s very uncommon, and it’s called the n?kak?stis bond.” His body tenses, shoulders all corded muscles now.
Ni… Nope, can’t even mentally attempt pronouncing that. Ryder saying it, the syllables rolling off his tongue, is magick itself.
“It’s the Old Language of the shifters and translates to ‘heart of the wolf.’ It’s fate’s way of picking who’s best for us.
Our wolf recognizes them, urging us to complete the bond.
Which isn’t a ceremony like yours, but more…
intimate.” Silver flames burn in his eyes, hotter than any fire lit in camp.
“So, a fated mate basically? Like a vampire’s Bride.” Like what Harlow is for Alec. “It’s forced?”
“In a way, but more for the male than the female. Nothing in it deems we have to fulfill the bond. It’s the world’s way of saying ‘no more need to search. This is her.’ As I mentioned, it’s very uncommon, so not many go searching for such a connection or else we’d be looking forever.”
At least there’s choice. I wouldn’t enjoy having Hecate force me with a certain warlock. If they can walk away from the compulsion, or fall in love naturally, then it doesn’t sound too bad.
“Interesting. You said ‘our wolf’.”
His lips quirk. “In a way, the wolf and man are one but also separate.”
“Yours talks to you?”
“Not in the way you’re assuming. It’s more of snippets of his thoughts, urging me to listen to his needs.
Often, his desires are what I want because we are one and the same.
In this form, human thoughts control my actions, whereas as a wolf, nature and instincts do.
But the thoughts mingle and influence no matter the body. ”
“Then not a Jekyll and Hyde situation?”
“I don’t what that is.”
I wave my hand, the concept not really important. “If your wolf has so much control, is that why you growl so often?”
“I growl because I’m a wolf and a man. Wolves growl their emotions. It’s natural for me, no matter the form.”
I laugh, and his growl ruptures around the cavern, echoing louder due to the small space. It’s unthreatening, ending with a flash his teeth, more pointed than earlier. It’s playful and even charming.
“Thanks for telling me all that.”
He hums, readjusting his body again. “You’re very curious about your enemies. That could lead to danger if you go asking the wrong questions.”
“Were any of those the wrong questions?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t expand.
“Are we still considered enemies? You’re quite charming if so.”
He rumbles in annoyance, which makes me laugh, given the recent conversation. And then I can’t stop laughing, thinking all the things I’ve experienced in the past couple days.
“You know, staying with you guys isn’t half bad. Even if the Alpha’s been ignoring me the past two days… Thanks for bringing me here. It’s really nice, seeing this side of your life.”
A moment passes of him staring intently at the space between us, and then at me. He seems to want to say something, but instead leaps to his feet, walks around the cave, and stretches a hand for me to take.
“Tour’s not over. Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”