Chapter Thirty
We’re Alive
LIAM O’CONNOR
The world blurs outside the window, trees and sky and road rushing by in a dizzying blend. I’m in the back seat of Aiden’s truck, feeling the vibrations of the engine in my bones, tasting the leftover adrenaline. Bast is in the truck behind us with the other enforcers. Gen’s tucked against me, her body limp, the tempo of her shallow breaths syncopated with the staccato beat of my heart.
I pull her closer, cradling her as if she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held. Because she is and she’s mine. The sacrifice of our bond for the good of the pack won’t happen now. Oliver tried to kill me. Jackson is dead. We’re in this war now, whatever may come. I have no doubt Dave Gallagher will seek revenge for his fallen brother, even though they hated each other.
I breathe her in, the scent of pine, and fear, and her. It’s a strange concoction, stinging my nostrils, but it’s the smell of being alive, of survival. It’s something I didn’t think I would ever smell again.
There’s a roaring in my ears that isn’t the engine, it’s the echo of blood and danger, of desperate sacrifices and gambles won and lost. My heart has been wrenched out of my chest and beaten. I’m angry. Furious that they came for me. Furious that they risked their lives. Furious that I couldn’t save them from that.
But by Fate, I am grateful.
Grateful they did come. Grateful to have her warmth against me, to hear her heart beating, to know that we’re still here, still fighting. Together. It’s a bitter cocktail, the guilt and the relief, anger and thankfulness, and I can’t quite separate one from another.
And then the strangers outside Oliver’s house and the explosion changed everything. They’re gone. Dead. There’s no way Oliver Gallagher survived that explosion. No obvious way.
“Are you okay?” Aiden’s voice is strained. He glances back at me, his eyes glinting in the rearview mirror.
We’re not okay, none of us. We’re broken, and bruised, and bloody. But we’re alive. And right now, that’s enough.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice raw. “We’re okay.”
And for the moment, that’s the truth.
My brother is here. My alpha is here. My mate is in my arms.
Right now, I’m okay. Even if it hurts like hell that we lost Jackson. He’d be proud of all of us today.
The silence in the cab stretches, elastic and taut, our breaths the only soundtrack. I glance down at Gen, her eyelashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks, her hand still clutching the front of my shirt as if to anchor herself to me. And I swear, as long as I breathe, I’ll never leave her again.
“Are we headed to the coven?” I ask, meeting Aiden’s gaze in the rearview again.
“Yes, until we know exactly what happened back there and who survived or didn’t. You both need to stay hidden.” His words sting, bringing to the surface the reality of our situation—the loss.
Meredith’s sacrifice, her final act of selflessness that bought us time and freedom, is a pain heavy on all of us. She was like an aunt to all of us growing up. She was family. Her loss is raw and sharp and hard to swallow.
“Thank you.” I say the words almost in a whisper.
I catch Aiden’s sad smile in the mirror. “We should have stood up to him years ago.”
I nod in agreement and pull Gen closer. “You don’t know who they were?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I gaze down at the beautiful woman in my lap. “Gen,” I start.
She looks up at me, her eyes rimmed red and shiny. We’re both so worn and frayed, our nerves raw and our bodies aching. But we’re alive and we’re together. And we wouldn’t have that without Meredith.
“Liam,” she replies, her voice hoarse, as if she’d been screaming. Her gaze locks onto mine and I see it all—the pain, the fear, the loss. But there’s something else there too, a spark of something raw and determined. It’s her strength, her unyielding spirit, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Without another word, I pull her closer, wrapping her in my arms. She buries her face in my neck, her fingers curling into the hair at the back of my head. I press my lips to the top of her head, whispering a vow of comfort into her hair. “One day at a time, Gen.”
She lets out a shaky sigh against my neck, her body trembling. I hold her tighter, and then the sobs start. Her body shakes as the pain flows out of her. I keep holding her. I keep whispering she’s safe. That I love her. That I’m here.
Her sobs resonate within the hollow spaces of my chest. Her grief is mine and I let her release it for me. We will find our way through this moment together and eventually we will be stronger for it.
The truck veers onto a gravel drive, the crunching of stones beneath the tires a comforting white noise amid the frothing emotions fighting in my mind. It’s a path worn by time and countless journeys, but kept hidden from maps and outsiders.
The drive gradually vanishes, swallowed by the forest. The dense tapestry of undergrowth and towering trees seems impenetrable at first, an illusion that the world ends here, at the forest’s edge. It’s meant to seem daunting. Meant to elicit discomfort to all who see it.
But we know the truth.
Aiden drives the truck straight into the mirage and we continue safely on a hidden road wide enough for the truck to navigate. Straight to the clearing. A sacred space created by Meredith decades ago.
The small perfect ring of white stones stands like a silent sentinel. They hum with latent power.
The truck rolls to a halt. We all climb out. Bast parks his truck behind Aiden’s and the rest of the rescue party clamber out into the clearing. He approaches, his expression a mirror of our shared pain. He pulls Gen and me into an embrace, his arms binding us together as if we’re a single, cohesive entity. His warmth seeps into me, a reassurance in the swirl of guilt and sadness of losing our youngest brother.
A few moments later, my arm securely around Gen’s waist, I follow Aiden toward the circle of stones. The rest of our weary rescue party trails behind us, each step heavier than the last. This victory is wrapped in loss.
Aiden speaks the entrance spell to open the barrier and we cross the boundary of the protective circle. The magick shimmers like a curtain under a soft breeze. The warmth and vibrancy of the magick in this place greets us like an embrace and feels almost sacrilegious in the face of our grief.
Before us, the coven village spreads out, a collection of quaint cottages nestled amid bright greenery. Figures begin to emerge from the homes, their excited chatter dying down as they take in our somber faces.
There, at the heart of the approaching crowd, are Lila and her daughter, Alice. In Meredith’s absence I have no doubt Lila will be asked to step into the role of matriarch for the coven. They walk with anxious urgency, their expressions riddled with apprehension.
The world around us falls into a hushed, respectful silence as they all look to Aiden. His lips part to speak, but words fail him on his first attempt.
“Meredith is gone,” he finally manages on his second try. They hang in the air, a death knell echoing in the eerie silence that surrounds us. The anguish in their eyes mirrors our own.
“She gave her life to save us,” I find myself saying, even though it’s out of turn.
Aiden is the one who speaks on behalf of the pack. But Meredith...she died for me, for Gen, for Bast. We were the ones trapped in that cellar. We owe her. We will always owe a debt we can never fully repay.
Lila musters a nod despite the quiver in her lip. “She knew it might come to this. We just hoped it wouldn’t.”
When Aiden speaks again, his gaze locks with mine. “I need to leave Liam and Gen and Bast here. At least until we see what the immediate fallout is going to be from the explosion at Oliver’s house—” He pauses like he’s struggling to choose the right words. “There were others there I didn’t know. Other wolves.” Aiden turns to Bast and me. “I’ll send your mother here when I get back to our land. She needs to be out of reach as well. We don’t know what Dave might do in retaliation for his brother’s death.”
A spike of anxiety slithers down my spine. Bast also tenses at the warning. Neither of us had considered that our mother might become a target to punish us.
Bast steps forward. “I’ll come with you to get her. She can be stubborn and might refuse to leave.”
Aiden gives a nod of acknowledgment. “We’ll be in touch, Lila. You have our deepest condolences.”
Lila wipes tears from her cheeks. “You have ours too, young man. We all know Meredith was loved by the pack as much as she was loved by her coven. Do you think you’ll be able to find her body?”
Aiden rubs his hands through his hair and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know when, but I will have people watching and waiting. If we can find her, we will. I give you my word.”
Lila nods again. “Come, you two.” She beckons Gen and me. “We’ll get you set up somewhere.” Despite the heaviness of her heart, her voice rings with warmth and concern.
Aiden exchanges a heavy, understanding look with Bast. Alongside them, the two other enforcers who had been in his truck break to leave as well.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Aiden promises. Without another word, the four men head toward the white circle of stones and disappear through the shimmering air back into the real world.
Lila gestures to Gen and me with an understanding smile. “We’re going to put you up in the travelers’ cottage. I figured it would be good for the both of you to finally have some time alone.”
We fall into step beside her. The cabin she leads us to stands alone in a secluded space off the main path. It’s framed by towering pines and huge pink azaleas.
“Thank you, Lila,” I manage to say, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. My hand remains glued to Gen’s lower back. She still hasn’t spoken since coming apart in the truck.
“You’re family, Liam. You’ve always been family. Meredith considered your whole pack family.” Her words distract me from my worry about Gen’s state of shock. Lila steps into the quaint little cottage, the darkness within casting long shadows across her face. “We all grew up together.”
With only a few words in Welsh, a fire springs to life in the hearth, casting away the shadows and bathing the room in a cozy amber light.
“The bathroom is through that door,” Lila directs, motioning to a rustic wooden door nestled in the corner of the room. “There’s a bit of food in the cupboard by the sink. Not a lot.” She pauses, a ghost of a smile gracing her lips. “I’ll bring a few things later in case you get hungry.”
Her words hang in the air, like we’re all tasting them, trying them out. Bathing. Eating. Sleeping. They’re simple things, ordinary things, yet they feel so foreign, so out of place in this moment.
Life continues to churn even when we’re not ready to move, even when every inch of us screams for a time-out, an opportunity to catch our breath, to absorb the blow.
Lila steps forward, her warm hands coming to rest on my arm. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. Her breath is warm against my skin.
“Take care of her, Liam,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “She needs you.” Her gaze shifts away from me to rest on Gen.
My Gen, who has yet to lift her eyes from the wooden floorboards since we stepped foot in this cozy sanctuary.
“You’re together. Embrace that and let it heal you.” She pats my arm before she retreats, leaving us alone at last.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, hoping to pull Gen from her state of shock.
She shakes her head. Her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, have seen too much for one day, and likely more than anyone should see in a lifetime. “No, but we should shower. I have—there’s...” She points to my shirt and I look down at the rusty brown stains on the fabric.
Blood.
My blood.
It’s on Gen’s clothes too.
“I agree.” Taking her hand, I lead her into the bathroom, not giving her a chance to protest or tell me to go first. I flick on the light, illuminating the room with a harsh white glare.
I peel off my clothes first and watch as Gen follows suit, her movements hesitant and unsure. Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around her. Our bare skin meets and the connection between us sparks to life like a jump-started battery.
I trace the contours of her face, exploring each feature as if it were sacred. An acute sense of gratitude washes over me as I take in her presence. The fact that she exists here. With me. In this place. The ability to touch her, to breathe in her scent, to claim her as my mate feels more like a divine blessing than a simple reality.
She’s mine.
She’s ours.
Mate.
My wolf rumbles in my chest, desperate for the bond that will seal us together for life.
“Gen.” Her name is a plea on my lips. A question. A promise. A prayer.
Her hands glide upward, delicately tracing the landscape of my chest before coming to rest behind my neck. Then she rises on her tiptoes. Our eyes meet in a silent exchange before her lips find mine.
Her taste floods my senses, sweet as honey and intoxicating as the strongest whiskey. Our tongues tangle, a passionate dance that follows no rhythm but the one set by our pounding hearts. The world fades, our reality contracts until it’s just her and me, and this overwhelming need to consume and be consumed.
Everything we’ve fought, every emotion we’ve held back comes crashing down all at once.
My hands glide down to her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her curves press against my hardness, eliciting a low growl from my throat. Her hands clutch tighter at my hair, hanging on tighter as if she’s worried I’ll let her go.
I won’t.
Ever.
“Liam,” she says against mouth. My name on her lips caresses my soul, filling a void I hadn’t realized was there.
Our desires and emotions condense into this one kiss, an act so simple yet so profoundly intimate. Her soft moans drive me to the brink of madness. I deepen the kiss, my silent vow of love and possession.
I cradle her face gently between my hands, my gaze locking onto hers. Her eyes flicker, that rich honey-gold of her wolf pushing to the surface, reflecting the raw intensity of the moment. “Right now, right here, the loss and the fear all take a back seat. Because in this moment, we are not victims of circumstance. We are not just survivors. We are mates and I don’t want to exist another minute without sealing our bond.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, but she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t refuse. Instead, she nods, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes. So much, but do we need an alpha to say the spell? I don’t know the words, but I want them too.”
“We don’t need an alpha. I know the words. Say them with me.” I recall the old Welsh incantation exactly as my mother taught me, the wolf bond spell that will weave our life forces together and give us a hundred healthy years together—a nice mate-bond perk.
Gen fumbles over the unfamiliar language, but I patiently slow the pace, repeating the spell until she’s able to voice it with me.
We don’t have to say it together. Me saying it and touching her would’ve locked the bond in place. But I need to hear her say it. And I can see it in her eyes that she needs it too.
A soft, warm heat ignites around my wrists, followed by Gen’s gasp. She jerks her arms away from my neck. Her wide eyes fixate on the vibrant shimmering green ink etching out an intricate Celtic knot into our skin. The symbolic bracelet is unique to each mated pair, a gift from Fate herself. Our shared design is subtly different from any other wolf pair’s.
The bond seals between us as I feel a rush of her emotions into my consciousness. She gasps as mine hit hers. The bond builds a highway between our souls. Nothing is hidden now. Everything is shared.
“I...wow. Do you feel this?” She looks up at me, her eyes glassy. “It’s like I can touch your soul with mine.”
I nod, bathing in her emotions and love.
“But there’s only one bracelet. Aren’t there supposed to be two?” Gen holds her wrists up, her voice quavering, her face tight with worry. “Did we do something wrong?”
With a gentle touch, I cup her face again, and caress her cheeks with my thumbs. “We get the second one after we bond a different way.”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. An understanding oh shapes her lips, delicate as the first drop of rain in a storm. And then the air crackles as her gaze heats with anticipation, sending a surge of desire coursing through me, fierce and demanding. Yet when I catch our reflection in the mirror, reality bites back—sticky remnants of dried blood, matted hair, and a grimy, blood-streaked face stare back at me in the mirror over her shoulder.
Releasing her, I reach for the shower controls and turn the shower dials. “In you go, love. Our first time is going to be beautiful and perfect, not tainted with the trials of the day and rushed. This is our first night together. This is the beginning of our story.”