Chapter 7 Rory
Rory
Idragged my suitcase behind me, the wheels clattering against the uneven pavement outside my block of flats. My -navy-blue winter coat was stifling in the mild sunshine, and sweat was already prickling at my hairline. Completely inappropriate for London, but Scotland would be colder.
Scotland.
I could hardly believe I was actually going back there. The thought soured my stomach, sent adrenaline flooding through me. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape, which, honestly, fair enough.
A tiny squeak emanated from my coat pocket, followed by scratching against the fabric. Freddy always knew when I was distressed. He had an uncanny sense for my moods—probably because he was literally dead and therefore somehow mystically connected to my anxiety. Or something?
“Shh,” I whispered, patting my pocket gently. “I know it’s hot in there, but it’s the only way to smuggle you past Detective Dickface.”
The main reason I was wearing this massive coat was so I could sneak Freddy along.
No way was I leaving him behind. He’d miss me too much.
I’d found him last night in the kitchen cupboards at Killigrew Street Hotel, where he preferred to live rather than our flat.
Kit’s fault—he claimed Freddy gave him the creeps and was horrible to him.
“Listen, mate,” I murmured to the lump in my pocket. “You’ve got to keep very still and quiet until we’re well past London, yeah? I’ve got snacks in my other pocket that I’ll keep feeding you.”
Another squeak, which I chose to interpret as agreement.
I looked up and spotted Maxwell sitting in a car—not his, but a sleek red Audi. His mother’s car, he’d explained over text messages. An extra security precaution.
As I approached, Maxwell’s expression was completely unreadable. The reality of how much time I was about to spend with him suddenly hit me like a bucket of ice water, and my feet froze.
We were about to be stuck together for days on end, if we even survived the endless car journey.
Stuck with his judging eyes, his barely concealed contempt.
And Scotland… God, Scotland was where my life had fallen apart.
What if I had some kind of breakdown and Maxwell witnessed it?
He already thought I was a reckless liability.
The last thing I needed was to give him more ammunition to prove I didn’t belong at Killigrew Street.
The familiar feeling of not being wanted sank into my bones, settling like a cold weight.
Maxwell frowned at me so deeply his glasses slid down his nose. Great. I was already annoying him, and I hadn’t even said good morning. Not that I would have said good morning anyway, but still.
When I find you, you better be fucking grateful for this, Dev.
My new boyfriend wound down the window to glare at me. “Rory, what are you doing?”
My brain scrambled for something to say. “Your mother has a nicer car than you.”
“I bought it for her,” he said. “She doesn’t get to drive it much anymore, though. Are you going to get in anytime today?”
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of anxiety. With a deep breath, I hauled my suitcase toward the boot of Maxwell’s car. He got out and opened it for me, which was unexpectedly considerate.
It was empty, aside from his tiny duffle bag—did he understand we were going for almost a whole week?—and a large metal case packed for us by Kit, which included a Glock and silver bullets, lethal against shifted wolves. Hopefully they’d stay in their case.
“I’ve never been to Scotland,” Maxwell said, helping me lift my very large case inside.
“Well, lucky you, then,” I muttered, then felt Freddy squirming in my pocket. I casually patted my coat, hoping Maxwell wouldn’t notice the movement.
“You’re wearing a winter coat in May?” Maxwell raised an eyebrow.
“Scotland’s colder than here,” I replied defensively. “I’m sensitive to temperature changes. Wolf thing.”
“Right. Another wolf thing.”
He was referring to our conversation where I’d explained that we’d have to drive all the way, rather than fly.
I’d told him I didn’t know any wolves that could bear it.
Weirdly, Maxwell hadn’t actually argued, apparently resigning himself to his fate of spending countless hours in the car with me. I’d expected at least some resistance.
We both got in, and an awkward silence descended as Maxwell pulled away from the kerb. I fiddled with my seatbelt, wondering if I should put some music on or if that would irritate him. The quiet stretched between us, and I held my breath until my lungs felt too big for my chest.
All of a sudden, I couldn’t take it anymore, and opened my mouth to finally say “good morning,” even though we were a full minute into the journey—
“Look, about the… boyfriend thing the other day. Sorry if I didn’t react well.”
My head snapped towards him. Had I ever heard him say the word “sorry?”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he continued, eyes fixed firmly on the road.
“Don’t worry. I know that you just hate me, rather than being a raging homophobe.”
Maxwell sighed, notably not refuting my claim.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“I’m just… not the best at acting,” he admitted after a moment.
“And it’s been a fair while since I’ve had a relationship.
I’m worried I won’t be up to the challenge of convincing your family we’re… together.”
I snorted. “Don’t worry, Detective. I’ll take the lead.”
The look of absolute terror that flashed across Maxwell’s face was priceless. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bursting out of me like a dam breaking.
“God, your face!” I wheezed, clutching at my stomach.
Maxwell’s lips twitched, not quite a smile, but close. “I’m serious, Rory. I don’t want to make things worse for you.”
My laughter died. “Trust me, it can’t get worse.
” I stared out the window at the passing buildings.
“Though, warning, my mother will hate you by default. When I came out to her, she pretended to accept it. All polite smiles and such. But she was low-key pissed that she wouldn’t get a bloodline heir from me.
” I swallowed hard. “This was after Kit had already left, and we didn’t even speak his name anymore. ”
Maxwell remained silent, but I could feel his rapt attention on me.
“She even suggested I could enter an arranged open marriage to provide children to the pack.” I shuddered at the memory. “So, anyway, she’s probably not going to react very well to the sight of me hanging off your arm.” I grinned at the thought. “I can’t wait.”
At least I’d be bringing someone like Maxwell home—hot as fuck, successful, intelligent. They’d see I didn’t need them, that I was wanted elsewhere. That someone amazing had chosen me.
Maxwell rubbed his left temple, wincing slightly.
Shit. I’d forgotten to guard my thoughts. I needed to be more careful. Compliments were the last thing I wanted him to hear.
Maxwell cleared his throat. “So, your mother is the alpha of that pack now? After your Dad died?”
“Yeah.” My fingers drummed against my thigh, a nervous rhythm that matched my quickening pulse.
He looked at me expectantly, that detective stare.
Stifling my sigh, I said, “So I heard, anyway. It all happened three days after I left home.”
“How does it all work?” Maxwell asked, sounding genuinely intrigued. “If you don’t mind me asking. Kit mentioned to me a while back about how wolves can physically feel others in their pack?”
I found myself rubbing at my chest.
“It’s not really physical, not like…” I waved my hand vaguely. “We call them pack bonds. They’re like—god, this sounds so cheesy—invisible threads connecting everyone. You feel them here.” I tapped my sternum. “Not with your actual nerves or whatever. Deeper.”
Maxwell continued to pierce me with his gaze, and my skin prickled as if he was peeling it back, exposing me.
“When you’re in a pack, you always sort of know where everyone is.
Not like, oh, Sarah’s at Tesco’s buying milk, but more like…
if I closed my eyes, I could point in the direction of any pack member.
The closer you are to someone—emotionally, I mean—the stronger you feel it.
There’s no escape. Family bonds are the worst. I mean, strongest.”
I shifted in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware I was anxiously fidgeting.
“It’s why Kit and I can always find each other, even when we’re pissed off at each other.
Our tether somehow sort of survived, even after we both left the pack.
He’s the only one I have left, though it’s not the same. We’re not exactly a pack.”
The car hit a pothole, and I used the jolt to swallow around my tightening throat.
“When a bond breaks—” My voice did that stupid cracking thing.
Brilliant. Shut up, Rory, shut up. But I couldn’t.
Kit never allowed me to talk to him about this, and so it was like the words demanded to pour out of me.
“It feels like someone’s reached inside and snapped something that shouldn’t be able to break.
It’s not just emotional pain. It’s…” I shrugged, trying for casual.
“It’s like your body forgets how to exist properly.
When someone dies, you’ve still got the pack to help you through it.
But when you leave—when you cut yourself off from everyone at once—most wolves never experience that level of severance.
Waking up gasping because your brain keeps searching for connections that aren’t there anymore. ”
Maxwell was too quiet. I risked a glance at him.
“Did that happen to you?” he asked softly.