Chapter 2 - Luke #2
The familiar sound of Dad’s footsteps against the wood planks as he reenters makes me stiffen again, just enough for me to feel it.
Even without the Alpha mantle, he still carries that presence like a second skin, and even with a few more streaks of grey in his hair than last year, he looks just as intimidating. Just as careful and calculating.
His expectations for me have always been the highest, and while I can’t entirely blame him, it never left me any room to truly relax around him.
“You’re pushing this thing hard,” he says, moving close enough before stopping.
“I’m pushing because it’s necessary,” I return, carefully withdrawing my hands. Eve and Isaac brace themselves when I do.
“The others don’t seem to think so.”
My chest tightens fractionally, but with another quick reminder of what and who I am, I stand my ground, saying evenly, “The others will have to learn to be more flexible.”
Dad’s dark eyes don’t falter. “The pack is unsettled. There’s a new Alpha, a new direction, and too much at once creates instability. Overload them, and they’ll be less likely to make themselves receptive.”
“So I should just wait and pretend like magic doesn’t exist?”
His arms cross, slow and deliberate. “I’m saying, you should focus on leading them in a way they recognize. Establish strength first, give them a reason to believe in you. When they trust you fully, then implement change.”
Something about the word trust sticks out to me, and while subtle, it feels like something sharp between my ribs.
“You don’t think they trust me.”
“I think they’re adapting. Shifting allegiance doesn’t happen overnight,” he murmurs.
The boat house feels even smaller as we both stand completely still, studying like we’re waiting for a significant move from the other.
My brows lift in just enough of a challenge to make his gaze sharpen. “And you?”
Dad pauses, giving the question the chance to breathe before responding. “I stepped down because I believed you were ready. And I also think trying to change their minds about magic will cost you more than you realize.”
“That’s reason not to try?”
“It’s reason to choose your battles, and to know when to stop before you’re in too deep,” he corrects, hard expression telling me everything I need to know. “Being the Alpha means deciding when those battles are lost causes.”
Lost cause. That’s what he thinks this is.
It shouldn’t be surprising, but it reignites a familiar anger in my chest. One I’ve felt for a long time.
I want him to say he believes in me, not just as his successor, but as a leader. As someone capable of showing these wolves something new.
Instead, all I get is caution and silent disapproval. The words don’t need to come from his mouth for me to know exactly how doubtful he is of this.
But, instead of succumbing to his beliefs, I maintain my stance. “You led by protecting tradition and keeping the peace with the elders. I need to lead by preparing us for what’s coming.”
With the quiet kind of dissection he uses often, letting his authoritative eyes reveal at least some of his true feelings, he lets the moment drag.
“You’re Alpha now. You decide what that looks like.”
Leaving no room for further talk, he turns and leaves.
He gives no approval, and no outright disapproval either. Only distance that is far too familiar, and enough coldness to leave me wondering how I will ever measure up to his expectations.
Maybe I shouldn’t let myself worry about what he thinks, especially now that I’m leading, but it has always been in the back of my mind ever since I was a kid. Vying for his validation.
As much as it shouldn’t matter, it does.
***
Darkness fully settles in by the time I reach the northern border between Briarwood and us.
Northwest of here lies Pine Ridge, where Hunter’s from.
Both areas are what’s safeguarding us from Wraith Peak, but that border is flanked by dense woods, leaving plenty of space for any of their wolves to cross.
Of course, they’re detected if they get too close, but that doesn’t stop them from trying anyway.
Out here, the forest is quieter, almost tense. I’ve frequented the area for as long as I can remember, making monitoring the space more like second nature to me.
Without shifting yet, I walk between the trees, following an old, well-run path. I take everything in slowly, sure to examine every smell and every minute detail. As a wolf, it’s easy to miss things when running and covering more ground at once.
And as the breeze carries different scents with it, I pause. If I had shifted, my hackles would be rising now.
Going in the direction of the unfamiliar smells, a touch of dread fills my system, and I already know what that means.
Dawson. Or at least, wolves belonging to him.
The closer I get, the clearer I make out several heartbeats—one that seems to slow like an animal succumbing gradually to death.
Something about it makes me quicken my pace, and the moment I weave through the underbrush, I catch them in the clearing.
Three shifters, yet none of them are in their wolf forms. Instead, they’re surrounding a woman on her knees, skin so pale she looks more like a corpse, and seconds from collapsing, at that.
In an instant, everything sharpens, and even if I don’t know this woman, a deeply-rooted instinct in me screams to move. To act.
“Who are you?” I ask, voice cutting through the clearing as I meet them, gaze firm.
All three of them look at me, hesitating long enough to study me. Then, what looks like the oldest one’s eyes flicker with recognition. “The Coldreach Alpha...”
“You’re trespassing.”
He smiles just enough to be smug. “The borders are flexible, no?”
“No,” I say without hesitation, keeping my posture as controlled and relaxed as possible despite the urges in me craving violence. “They’re not.”
The woman lifts her head slightly, eyes peeking through the short curtain of dark brown hair over her face. Her skin is dirt-streaked and sickly at the moment, yet despite that, there’s a fierceness in her gaze.
The second those hazel eyes lock on mine, something moves in me. It’s immediate and unwelcome, yet powerful enough to catch my attention.
Powerful enough to make me reckless.
“You’re on my land,” I tell them, directing my focus back to the wolves. “State your purpose for being here.”
The one closest to me points at her. “She’s Wraith Peak property. We’re taking her back.”
Property.
That single word feels far more loaded than it should, and I clench my jaw to keep from lashing out.
As much as I want to take them all on right now, I have to think and consider all angles, even if part of me wants to haul her away from them, for whatever reason.
Glancing between her and the other three, it’s obvious she’s trying to get away from them. Given how exhausted she looks, I’d say they chased her all the way here.
“It doesn’t look like she wants to go back with you,” I murmur, noticing the slight waver in her posture, like she’s barely keeping her eyes open.
The one who I assume is the leader narrows his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what she wants. She ran first.”
For good reason, it seems.
“She crossed into my territory. That makes her my concern now.”
The three of them hesitate, looking at one another as if hoping they might have the answers they need. Then the leader bristles.
“Don’t make this a pack issue.”
And by that, he means don’t bring Dawson into this, which must mean they aren’t entirely on his side, even if it might seem that way. Or, at the very least, they could be persuaded to back off with the right words.
Tearing his throat out in front of the others and showing my dominance is a tempting idea, but escalation only benefits Dawson Voss. That’s the last person I want to give any upper hand to.
“What’s her value to you?”
They pause again, more like they don’t even know. That’s interesting.
“She’s under our Alpha’s protection.”
“Your Alpha isn’t here. But you are,” I tell them, allowing the implication to hang in the air between us. “How much?”
They all blink at me as if I’ve just lost my mind.
“What?”
I square my shoulders and stand a bit straighter, forcing myself to ignore the twist in my stomach at the thought of what I’m proposing. “You said she belongs to Wraith Peak, and since you’re here on your Alpha’s behalf, name your price.”
The leader nearly gapes at me.
“We’re not...” He trails off before forcing out a breath. “She’s not for sale.”
“When an Alpha’s authority is unstable, everything’s for sale, as long as you’re smart enough to accept it.”
At that, his jaw tightens, well aware that I’m right. I can only assume they’ve all considered their options after Dawson lost to Caleb.
“This will go one of two ways. One, you go back to Dawson empty-handed and tell him I personally interfered once you crossed into Coldreach, and that you did what you had to do to keep your life. If he wants to contest it, then he can do so publicly,” I begin, watching for every small tell that crosses their expressions.
“Alternatively, you can accept my exchange. I’ll give you more than enough money to decide where you’ll go next, be it back to your pack or somewhere to start over.
Even better, I’ll grant you safe passage across Willow and hunting privileges in the northern stretch here. ”
He cocks a brow at me, looking almost surprised. Though the flicker of excitement in his eyes gives away just how appealing that thought is.
Money obviously matters to them, but bragging rights matter more if they’re stupid enough to return to Wraith Peak after this.
Whether they do or don’t, it doesn’t matter to me. Either way, I want her, and I want them gone.
“You’d give that for her?”
Risking a brief glance in her direction, I find her watching me now, with both confusion and wariness slipping into her features.
I hold that eye contact long enough to know I’m treading a potentially ugly line.
My answer comes to me without further consideration. “Stick around, and you’ll have your money before sunrise.”
The clearing is silent for a long beat, almost making me forget that I’m negotiating terms with a few rogue wolves from Wraith Peak, all for a woman I don’t know.
I can’t explain what it is or what it means, but there’s something about her I’m not willing to let pass through my fingers. I’m sure as hell not going to let them take her back and do whatever they’re planning with her.
Beneath the exhaustion and rumpled appearance, she still looks beautiful, but I know that’s not it. Just looking at her pulls at something inside me.
The lead wolf studies me carefully, like he’s anticipating a rug-pull. Then he releases a breath. “Give us the money upfront before we leave…and a written acknowledgment of hunting rights.”
“Then it’s yours.”
And she’s mine.
The three shifters glance between each other, surely communicating across a mental link I can’t access, then the oldest one nods. “Done.”
An odd, immediate rush of relief hits me, but I school it and take a step forward, prompting them to move away from her. Good.
The woman flinches, but doesn’t manage to move more than that. I can’t bring myself to look her in the eyes yet, even as I stand over her.
“This isn’t over,” the wolf mutters, slowly backing away with the others. “But we’ll be here.”
I nod once, face stern despite the deal we just made. Then, they disappear into the trees, prepared to wait it out until I bring them their payment.
And just as the woman looks at me like she’s seconds from passing out, I kneel down and carefully scoop her up, pressing her against my chest.
Her body locks up at first like she wants to protest, but she’s drained beyond belief, and only manages to slump against me further.
With the clearing silent now, save the whirring of bugs nearby, I carry her back, all while doing my best to keep my heart rate steady.
Up close, her condition seems so much worse, and beneath the smell of wolf and exhaustion, there’s something I can’t place.
Whatever she is, or whatever caused her to flee from Wraith Peak in the first place, it doesn’t matter. She isn’t going back.
With slow, shallow breaths, her cheek presses against my skin involuntarily, and the sight of her weakness only deepens the guilt of what I’ve done.
As I walk, and as she barely holds on to her awareness, my voice leaves me just above a whisper.
“I’m sorry.”