Chapter 40 Orion
The shifters huddle in small groups, exchanging information. Weeks underground forged connections that won’t easily break. I watch Andrea emerge from the concrete bunker entrance, her shoulders squared with new purpose as she strides directly toward Sam and Ingrid.
Even in the darkest moments, people find light. I won’t judge if the struggle justifies the reward. It’s hard to say, with my mate still in shock in my arms.
Andrea’s eyes catch mine through the window, and her chin dips in acknowledgment. She’ll likely make her way home to collect her things, but I suspect Andrea is moving to Arizona as soon as possible.
She looks happy. As happy as Andrea can appear. Her expression is stern, and she’s furrowing her brow, standing military-straight, directing wolves this way and that. Sam, her new alpha pack mate, even defers to her. Andrea will be the leader of her pack. Mona will be happy to hear it.
Mona’s red hair spills across my arm as she sleeps against my chest. Chaos all around us—wolves barking orders, rushing in all directions—and all I can think about is her.
Movement catches my eye—Ghost and Kendrick exit the silo. The other wolves converge, and I notice Ghost’s reluctance to join their discussion.
Ghost prefers the shadows—it’s in his name, after all. Kendrick knows this and exploits it, not just Ghost’s quiet demeanor but his preference for solitude. I suspect that’s why he’s been reluctant to join our pack before now.
I don’t have the space in my head to hold a grudge against Kendrick right now, but Mona may some day.
For now, though, it seems Ghost is being pulled into the light.
Their voices carry to me as Kendrick strategizes with him and the alphas.
One burly alpha, nearly physically recovered from his weeks underground, shifts and runs toward the neighboring clan’s territory for assistance.
They’re a good distance away, but the urgency has passed.
That’s just how wolves are. Danger faced together, recovery the same way.
Mona stirs in my arms. Bringing her into the SUV we drove down here was the right call—she’d gone limp in the elevator, and the chaos outside would only overwhelm her. Her eyelids flutter open, revealing those arctic-blue eyes.
“Hey, firefly.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Everyone okay?”
I nod, though it’s a loaded question. Will these shifters be okay? Eventually.
For now, though, I tell her, “Silas and Grayson are still below, but they’re alright.” My fingers graze her bond bite marks at the base of her neck and shoulder, and she closes her eyes, zeroing in on feeling them.
Silas’s emotions ripple through the bond—I don’t have as strong an impression as she does; I’m really only feeling him through her. But he doesn’t seem distressed. In fact, he seems calm.
“Gray is with him,” I remind her, and she nods.
She looks out the window, still clutching my arms as tightly as possible, like she’s scared to let go.
“I broke my promise,” my voice cracks.
“What do you mean?”
“I vowed to protect you. To keep you from harm. And twice now, you’ve been taken—”
“I did this, Orion.”
“You did not do this.”
“I left. You didn’t fail me. None of you failed me.”
I shake my head, but she cradles my face, the heels of her palms scratching against my beard.
“You listen to me, Orion. You saved me. You’ve saved me over and over again.
” She lets go, her fingertips tracing down my neck, thumb resting over my pulse.
“Do you remember when I asked you if this was what shifter life was like? All this chaos?”
I nod.
“And do you remember what you said?”
I think back. “We’ll have quiet moments of peace and anxious moments of chaos.”
“And those moments of peace are what we live for. I think we’ve earned bank on moments of peace, don’t you?”
I smile and kiss her pretty bee-stung lips. Her jasmine floral scent floats between us, the honey undertones making my heart clench and mouth water. But her answering smile is still too small. Too quiet.
She’s happy for her moments of peace. But there’s still something wrong. The smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes falls away as she stares out the window. A moment later, Silas and Grayson step outside the silo, Silas covered in blood and something else I’m not sure I want Mona to see.
Grayson stops briefly to speak with Kendrick, but Silas strides right over to us. I’m prepared for it the moment he reaches the truck, wrenches open the door, and yanks Mona out of my arms, burying his face in her neck.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I left. I love you so much.”
He shakes his head frantically like he can’t get out the words. “Don’t leave me again, okay?”
"I won't, I promise I won't."
Silas’s eyes meet mine. I gesture toward the rusty water pump jutting from the cracked earth beside the old cement vestibule.
“Go clean the blood and… whatever else, off yourself,” I tell him.
Behind him, a weathered fence of splintered wood and sagging wire marks the boundary of what must be a cow pasture.
No animals in sight now, but the rich, earthy scent of manure and sweet hay hangs in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and remains still clinging to him.
He turns and strides off, stark naked, soaked in red. But there’s a relaxed nature to his posture that’s unmistakable.
Gray, Kendrick, and Ghost join us. Kendrick stands awkwardly, like he’s unsure what to do with Mona. Though she seems unbothered. Gray leans in and kisses her, then stalks over to the water hose to clean himself off.
There’re stacks of clothes in the back of the SUV. We drove at nearly twice the speed limit to get here in record time. Everyone who needs clothes gets dressed.
“I’ll need to wait for the local Lune to come help out, and we can begin relocating the shifters. Andrea and I will drive back to Silent Peak in the truck. Be a day or so behind you.”
He looks at Mona then. “What you did, coming here on your own—”
“I don’t want a lecture, Kenny,” Mona gripes.
He’s so taken aback, so used to respect and praise that he takes a moment to recover.
When he does, his chin dips, lips twitching.
“What you did, coming here on your own,” he begins more sternly, “was incredibly brave. Reckless, and damn near gave me a heart attack. But brave. I’m so proud of you.
Your mother would have been so proud of you. ”
Mona’s lip wobbles, and she looks away. It’s too much, too soon. Kendrick recognizes that she’s close to her breaking point.
“You all take the SUV, it’ll be a more comfortable ride. I’ll see you soon. Mona, when I return, I hope we can spend a little more time together.”
“I’d like that,” she says quietly, not meeting his eyes.
Ghost takes a step, as if to leave with Kendrick. But the older alpha slaps his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “No. You’ve done enough. Stay with your mate. Take care of my daughter.”
They have an unspoken conversation, Ghost’s golden eyes glowing as they lock with Kendrick’s.
Something passes between them—a flicker of understanding, hesitation, maybe.
But Ghost finally nods, then climbs into the SUV.
Grayson slides behind the wheel while Silas folds his fall frame into the back with us.
I gently arrange Mona’s limp form across my lap, fiery red hair spilling across my legs, her skin still too pale.
We’re on the road within twenty minutes, tires crunching over dirt, before finding smooth pavement.
Mona’s breathing deepens as she falls back asleep in my arms. I haven’t loosened my hold for a moment, aside from when Silas brushed his knuckles across her cheek or when Grayson reached back to squeeze her ankle—her other mates silently assuring themselves she’s whole, alive, and well.
Maybe not well.
We’ve been driving for an hour, approaching the highway that leads north out of the valley, when Mona’s head twitches in my lap. A small whimper escapes her lips, then another. Suddenly she gasps—a sharp intake of breath—and her body jerks upright, her legs still stretched across Silas’s thighs.
The SUV lurches then swerves onto the shoulder, coming to a full stop, every one of us instantly alert at Mona’s distress.
I cradle her face between my palms. “Mona? What’s wrong?” Her eyes flutter open—unfocused at first, then widening with sudden terror. A tremor starts in her shoulders, spreading through her body, as if all of her trauma is finally breaking free.
“Ghost, did she take it? Did she take it?! Tell me she didn’t take it!” she screams.
Before I can process what she’s asking, the doors fly open. Ghost and Grayson scramble into the back, each reaching for Mona, touching her shoulders, her hands, her face—anything to anchor her. I don’t know what she’s talking about, but Ghost seems to.
Ghost’s hand moves in slow circles over her leg. The bond between them doesn’t shock me—I’m surprised he resisted for so long. I’m relieved knowing he was there when she needed someone, that he’s still here. But I wish someone would explain what the fuck is wrong with my mate.
“Mona—”
“Tell me. I need to know,” she demands, voice shaking.
Ghost looks her over clinically. Then shakes his head. “No. It’s—you’re healing. You’re already almost completely healed. She didn’t take it from you.”
We barely overheard Deidre’s tirade before we broke into the silo, down that lumbering elevator. But I feel so stupid, I almost forgot… it’s just, when we arrived, there was so much chaos, and we interrupted their chanting, so I had assumed the witch didn’t succeed. I feel like such an idiot now.
“But she could have? She almost did?”
Ghost presses his lips together, then nods.
“Take it out,” she says. His brow furrows in confusion, but she shakes her head. “The birth control. Get it out of me.”
“Mona—”
“After what just happened? I can’t—” Her voice catches. “What if there’s residual magic or—”
“Mi vidita, everything is intact. The witch failed. You’re safe.”