Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Shit.
Why did Jrue have to say that word?
Mortification turns my legs to lead and my insides to molten lava. Bile scalds my throat and I stare at Grayson to analyze his reaction to the bombshell.
What’s there to say?
I’ve been betrothed to Jrue since birth, promised in some kind of deal brokered between men who didn’t know who I would be. Or what was wrong with me.
“Charming,” Grayson answers, dragging his fingers up and down his arm in long strokes.
Jrue examines Grayson a moment longer before turning to me and tucking me underneath the safety of his arm. “We weren’t going to give up until we found you but damn, these woods gave us the runaround.”
“And the vampires,” one of the pack members chimed in.
“Right, those fucking horrible vampires,” Jrue says. “They had patrols everywhere. We thought we caught your scent near their stronghold but it faded the other night.”
The Ironwood pack have no idea what they’re really up against.
Not only from the vampires and their proximity, or the sheer number of moon-mad wolves stalking the small town. It’s everything.
Life behind the fixed gates of the upscale community provides protection and a space where it’s okay to be ignorant.
I swallow the words past the lump in my throat and smile at Jrue, pretending to be the same person he last saw before everything changed.
Grayson hasn’t said a word. He clamps down on his lips until they pale and his eyes glitter with the promise of words unsaid. We’ll have to make time for those words eventually.
Sweat sheens on his skin as he scratches his arm again.
“Now that we’ve found you,” Jrue says, turning to me, “we’ll take you home.”
I jolt in his arms, unwilling, a movement he marks with a casual arch of his eyebrow.
“Right, of course.” I cover the mistake quickly.
“You’ll come with us, Grayson. I’m sure the alpha would love to meet the guy who helped his daughter. There’s always a place for another wolf in our ranks.”
Jrue’s face mimics hospitality.
There’s no good way to disguise Grayson’s scent. It’s unmistakable, musky, a calling card to other predators marking him as one of ours, but not quite right. They know he’s wolf.
But unfortunately, Jrue and the others have no clue what secrets lurk in Grayson’s blood. Neither do I.
The tightening in my stomach turns painful and I brush a hand across my abdomen, glancing up in time to watch Grayson mirror the motion.
Our eyes meet and lock again, and the questioning tilt to his head gives me the soapbox.
It’s up to me. Whether we go with them or not, the decision is mine to make.
I shrug, as if to say we’ve got no choice, with the predators tightening ranks around us. The circle shrinks until several members brush up against my back and force me to step closer to Jrue.
“I’m really glad we found you.”
He draws me in for a hug, his arms comfortable and strong. It’s not his fault.
When he finds out I’m moonlocked—
Blood drains from my face.
At some point in the future, we’ll have to have another Talk, the kind of Talk you’d rather erase from existence. Jrue’s the most understanding guy I know and I still can’t predict how he’ll react when the truth comes out.
I return the hug and force my attention away from Grayson.
“It’s better we get going before the moon rises again.” Another search party member tits his head to the sky. “She’s riding heavy this time of year.”
Jrue nods. “Absolutely. Come on, let’s go. It’s a long walk back. You sure you can make it, Grayson? You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine.” Grayson steps up beside me but Jrue is faster, whisking me out of reach and keeping me pinned to his side with our hands pressed together.
I gnaw the inside of my cheek.
The last thing we need is to go back to the pack. Once Grayson is inside the gates again, it’s a crapshoot whether or not we’ll be able to sneak out. They certainly won’t let him leave. Not if the moon turns him into a cursed monster.
The woods are quieter now, as though squirrels and birds know to steer clear of so many bad things in one place. Or maybe it’s something else.
I keep my ears pricked for signs of the hunter, but the further we walk and the more distance we put between us and the cabin, the easier it is to relax my guard.
It’s a mistake.
Hours pass before we stop for a quick bite to eat. Iziah, the oldest member of the search party, draws a couple of plastic wrapped sandwiches from his backpack and doles them out one by one. I’m the first to receive lunch. Grayson is the last. He catches it hard enough to dent the bread.
When Jrue dips his head in deep conversation with Morg, I scoot closer to Grayson.
Our shoulders press together and I hide my shiver in a bite of my food.
“We have to get to the witches, to make sure they’re alive. I’m not sure how we are going to get out of this,” I whisper.
“We could have run?”
“They would have caught us and asked questions.”
There are so many eyes on us. The search party members rotate which one of them keeps the closest watch on the newcomer.
Grayson is untried and untrustworthy. They don’t trust him no matter how much I vouch for his character.
“We’ll sneak out later,” he murmurs. “We have to make it through this first.”
I shake my head. My entire fucking life it’s been this way, the microscope of my family’s attention, waiting for something inevitable. It’s never happened.
They keep watching and pushing and I keep falling short.
I can’t shift. It’s something they’ll never be able to accept and so they’ve watched and kept me on a pedestal of attention.
They’d never let me get close to someone like Grayson. Will my father even remember helping him the night of the attack, when Grayson was bitten?
How could he not?
The bread and ham turn to cardboard in my gut and ash in my mouth. It fills the empty places but not well, gluing my internal organs together and making the next leg of the walk uncomfortable.
Iziah marches beside Grayson and slaps a hand across the young man’s back when Grayson falls into a coughing fit. I crane my head over my shoulder but the view doesn’t help the concern building in my chest.
“Allergies,” Jrue supplies unhelpfully. “They’re horrible this time of year. Some people are more susceptible than others.”
He brushes his fingers along my spine and settles his hold above my tailbone.
“It’s not allergies,” Grayson replies with a thunderous scowl for Jrue. And unless I’m off my mark, a whispered asshole punctuates it.
A chuckle winds its way out of me regardless and Jrue tightens his hold.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not wounded, are you?” He pointedly fixates on my arm and the bandage there.
“It’s a scratch,” I insist for the fourth time. “It was the vampires. I already told you.”
“I know. But I’m worried about you.”
Some other person would appreciate his attentiveness. Some other person would be a better mate for Jrue and his goodness, would be able to stand at his side proudly instead of uneasily.
He deserves a real wolf.
Will I ever be good enough to deserve the match my father made?
My smile falls a little easier this time. “Thank you for checking on me.”
Grayson scoffs behind us, scowling and broody, swiping his hand through his hair while Iziah marks every movement.
Jrue refuses to turn around despite the sound. “Everything is going to go back to normal once we get you home. You’ll see.”
I’m not sure which one of us he thinks needs the assurance more.
My own skin is tight and itchy by the time we make it back to the gated community. Twilight casts a sepia filter over the land and the moon does indeed ride heavy overhead, glowing a squash yellow color.
The square of my shoulders sags a little more with every hurried step to the gate.
Jrue calls out a greeting and the two iron filigree pieces with the pack insignia swing wide to accommodate us.
A figure swims through the shadows on the other side and resolves itself into familiar lines in another few thunderous heartbeats.
My father looks exactly the same as he did when I took off with RJ and Aimee all those weeks ago. I’m not sure why I expected him to be the one who changed.
A dark slash of a mustache hides the sternness of his upper lip. Scruffy facial hair follows the line of his jaw though he’s always been fastidious about shaving. It’s a chink in his armor, a red flag in the face of his control.
And much to my surprise, when he stops in front of me, he pulls me from Jrue toward his chest in a crushing embrace.
“Where have you been?” he breathes into my hair. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”
Guilt is an anchor and shame is worse. The two of them obliterate even my worry for Grayson as the search party and several new wolves surround him, their proverbial hackles raised.
He says nothing. Smart.
Dad finally releases me but there’s no time to breathe easily when he glares at Grayson. Recognition flares in his brown eyes before he turns away, his nose lifted.
“Take our visitor down to the pens for the evening. I’m not sure how he’ll react to the full moon and we don’t want his change to impact the rest of our young. Make sure he’s comfortable.”
Dad adds the last part as an afterthought for me alone, his disdain clear. Grayson is bitten and he knows it. Jrue is pureblood, born. Better.
“I’ll be fine,” Grayson assures me as Iziah and Morg lead him off toward the house we use for the unruly. Or the killers. “It’s only for a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I wish I had half of his cockiness, his confidence. My mouth is dry and my vision swims when Dad turns us in the opposite direction toward home.
“You have to treat him kindly. You can’t just throw him in there without any food or water or anything,” I hurry to say, tripping over my words and my feet. “He helped me. He’s the only reason I’m in one piece.”
“I will, Mandi.”