Chapter 8 - Hannah
My throat burns as I take a breath that fills my lungs with oxygen and makes it feel like I’ve been sleeping for a lifetime.
A hand goes to my throat as my eyes fly open, and that’s when I shoot upright, only to discover that I’m on a bed.
“It’s okay, Hannah. You’re fine. You’re safe,” comes Conan’s voice from the side. I turn to him, brows raised in awareness and shock as my memories come crashing back to me.
The warm sun on the back of my neck is a clear indicator that it’s daytime, which means I’ve missed a few hours after passing out last night, and missed the last stretch of the journey to the Bitterroot Valley.
I can smell where we are, the scent of the valley filling my lungs and burning my mind with the memories I had once buried.
Gulping hard to swallow down those memories when I hear Conan’s footsteps nearing the bed, my natural defenses come up again, like thick steel doors that can keep him out, keep my heart locked away from ever being hurt by him again.
“Where’s Clarissa? Is my daughter safe?”
“Yes,” Conan breathes as he lingers at the foot of the bed, watching me intently as if he’s gathering valuable information. I hate how intense his dark eyes are—trained in combat, but darkly mysterious enough to carry a natural charm that might weaken my knees if I’m not careful.
“She’s fine,” he continues, wringing his hands in front of him as if he’s nervous. “She stayed up all night, waiting for you to wake up. But by breakfast time, she had pancakes and became sleepy. She’s asleep in the bedroom adjoining this one.”
He points to the door on the left, and I nod slowly.
“Pancakes?” I frown.
Conan chuckles nervously. “Yeah. I asked her what she wanted, so that’s what I prepared. There’s more in the kitchen if you’d like something to eat.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask as I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice to both of us?”
“Well, considering you saved our asses last night, I owe you that much.” He sighs as he looks down. “Besides, you are my mate now, and—”
“Only for the sake of the alliance,” I huff, crossing my arms and tilting my chin in defiance. “You and I will not be mates in any other way.”
“We are fated mates, Hannah,” Conan argues as he lifts his head and meets my eyes again, confusion etched on his brow. “You can’t ignore that.”
“I can, and I will,” I retort with another huff. “Don’t pretend that you’re doing this because you actually want me here. Want us here.”
Conan’s frown deepens, and he inclines his head. “What is that supposed to mean? I took you as my mate in that ritual, Hannah. The moment I knew it was you I was searching for, there was no doubt what needed to be done.”
“And that’s the only reason you mated me. Because you need me to get your powers back. You need me to fulfill some destiny that will lead you to victory in this war. But there will never be anything more between us.”
“What do you expect me to say, huh?” he snaps, clenching his jaw. “You expect me to be glad that I found you? With a child, on top of that?”
“I don’t expect anything from you!” I spit back. “I wish you’d never found me. I wish you had never come looking for me!”
“Right!” Conan growls, his face contorted with frustration. “Because you moved on, and there was no place for me in your new life.”
“Now that’s gone down the drain, hasn’t it?
” I scoff. “All because of the alliance, and this haughty act of yours that you’re better than everyone else!
Well, I have news for you, Conan Becker!
You may think you’re above everyone else, but I know who you are.
You’re just a manipulative bastard who gets what he wants, and throws everyone under the bus if they’re useless to him! ”
Panting when the words have left my mouth, I glare at Conan as he stands in front of me, eyes widened in shock, brows furrowed as if what I said left him dumbfounded.
He presses his lips into a firm line and turns slowly on his heel before marching toward the door.
“Whatever we retrieved from the wreckage is there,” he points to a corner where clothes are stuffed into black bags. “We torched the van before we came back. Can’t leave evidence for the humans.”
I don’t move until Conan leaves the bedroom without a second glance. He shuts the door behind him, and the moment he’s gone, I climb out of bed and head to the adjoining room.
My heartbeat only steadies when I see Clarissa sleeping on the single bed, clutching a corner of the mink blanket that covers her tiny frame. I fall to my knees beside the bed, letting out the tears I’d been holding back, the weight of everything hanging on my shoulders.
Last night, I fought the demons for the very first time. I’d always been hanging back when the coven fought the enemy, staying with Clarissa to keep her safe. But last night was different—I wasn’t in control of my powers, and they surged more strongly than they ever had before.
I had no choice but to be on the frontlines, fighting to save my daughter. But what struck me the hardest was how strongly I felt the bond between Conan and me, and seeing him fighting those demons, knowing he was at a disadvantage, is what added fuel to my determination.
Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I sniffle quietly so I don’t wake Clarissa, but that’s when I pick up a wolf scent that shouldn’t be there. It doesn’t belong to Conan, or Simon, or any of the other Iron Breath wolves.
It’s a faint trace of wolf scent that was there when Clarissa was born.
My eyes fly wide with horror and realization as I take another, deeper breath.
The stress of last night must have burned through the effects of the potion, and her wolf side is peeking through.
I quickly get to my feet again and hurry back to the other room, crouching by the black bag that has our belongings and pulling everything out, flinging clothes behind me in my search for the black box Amalia handed me before the ritual.
The old wooden box holding memories of the past—painful memories like Conan’s rejection in the form of a note I found on my fridge eight years ago—is inside the bag.
But the black box from Amalia isn’t there.
“No…no…” I mumble, rummaging through everything again. But my second search is useless.
The box with the potion and instructions to make more is gone.
It must have gotten lost in the wreckage…
I’m doomed.
I know that much.
If Clarissa doesn’t have that potion to mask her wolf, Conan will find out that she’s his daughter.
I can’t let that happen.
That’s when I decide to visit Conan’s library, listening for any indication that he’s in the house. But it’s quiet, and I’m able to slip down the hallway to the room at the end of the wing.
I know the house like the back of my hand—one half of the mansion that belongs to the Beckers.
It’s Conan’s half, where he lived with his parents until they died.
His grandfather, Elder Bernard, lives in the other half of the mansion, where it’s darker, gloom spreading across the place as if his venerability fills every hallway, every corner.
As I click the handle and step into the library, I’m flooded with more memories that come crashing from a dark corner of my own. My mind, where I’d buried the memories of Conan and grieved the loss of what could have been many years ago.
When we were kids, he’d sneak me into the library, where we’d hide away from his grandfather until the old alpha stopped looking for him. It had become somewhat of a ritual to hide out here, and in those moments, we’d become closer.
I sigh heavily as I close the door behind me. I’ll take a look around, see if I can find anything that resembles the recipe of the potion Amalia had given me, and then leave before Conan returns.
By the time I’m done sweeping the library for a way to keep Clarissa’s wolf scent hidden, my tummy roars at me. It’s been hours of searching, and I haven’t found anything. The only thing that might work is a serum rubbed on a wolf’s scent gland, but it fades after two hours.
It won’t work for long-term use.
Taking a seat behind the desk and sighing with frustration, I hang my head in my hands, mulling over my options. Maybe if I took Clarissa and ran away…
That’s not an option. It is dangerous out there, and I can’t put my daughter in more danger. She’s better off with the pack. And despite what I said to Conan in anger, we’re better off in the valley, where the wolves will keep us both safe. I can’t afford to fight the demons on my own.
But there is another fight I must face—this one against Conan.
I’ll have to pay Dorothy a visit. As the pack’s seer and healer, she might be able to help me with a solution to keep Clarissa’s wolf a secret.
As I’m about to stand up, I see something hidden behind a messy pile of papers on the desk, and I frown. Only a corner of the box is visible, but the patterns carved into the wood are familiar.
Hesitantly, I lift the papers to reveal the carved wooden box—the same box of dominoes Conan brought along to his first visit to Dorothy’s cabin on his quest to befriend me.
My heart lurches as I lift the box, instantly being sprung into a memory I wish had died a long time ago.
It was the morning after that passionate night Conan and I shared in my cabin. I’d woken up to find him gone, and when I went to the kitchen, I found a note pinned to my fridge.
I’m sorry, Hannah, but you and I cannot be mated.
Forget everything I told you.
The pack won’t accept you as my luna.
My grandfather won’t accept it, either.
You’re just a shiftless omega, and I cannot be seen with you.
My heart broke when I read the note. And it breaks now as I clutch the box of dominoes in my trembling hands.
Conan Becker’s rejection didn’t end with that note.
Elder Bernard, accompanied by Callum and Nico, visited me that morning, and I was banished from the pack on the grounds of stealing Dorothy’s emerald gem—which was conveniently found on my kitchen table—and for seducing the alpha’s grandson.
I left with only a backpack filled with my belongings, and I have returned with only a black bag of them, and the now-alpha’s daughter.
Taking a deep breath to stop my heart from breaking, I set the box back on the desk and cover it with the papers, deciding to do what needs to be done to keep my daughter safe.
Perhaps I couldn’t save myself from the cruelty of this pack, but I’ll be damned if I don’t protect my daughter.
Even if it means having to hide myself from the likes of Elder Bernard and the wolves who used to bully me. It’s nothing a hood and stealth can’t do.
And I need the potion to hide Clarissa from her father. I’ll wait for Clarissa to wake up, and when she goes back to sleep tonight, I’ll visit Dorothy.