Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
The day before the hierarchy battle
Winter was flying; West was running. She was above the tree line, he was below it. Clouds were in her way, trees were in his. And together they wove through their own worlds, heading to The Farm.
That wasn’t its formal name, but considering Everett had labeled it that way on her map with two underlines, it’d been stuck in her mind like that. Sort of the same way Dead Lenn had. That witch was still rotting away on her living room floor.
After West’s impromptu dick-swinging contest on the lake, Winter had gone back to Lenn’s decrepit cottage for looting purposes. She needed more salve. Or rather, West needed it. His back wasn’t clawed up again, but there were some deep puncture wounds that had required stuffing.
While tending to him last night, she’d asked a bunch of questions about werewolf culture. He could teach her better than any textbook with real life experience. Brooding nature and oversized muscles aside, he was rather smart.
He’d reviewed a lot of facts with her.
Wild Wolves couldn’t be compelled. They retained silver in their system, changing the consistency of their blood. And alphas lose the ability to use their voice during a full moon, stifling its unique power. This would level a fight, and was the reason hierarchy battles were strictly scheduled.
It seemed Fang hadn’t cared much for formality, or rules.
West had gone on to explain omegas prepared a feast for the pack the night of the fight, whereas alphas fast. The hungrier the better, he’d said.
Those grumbling words still echoed in her ears.
When she’d asked what else alphas did to prepare, the answer had sent her running to her room.
She’d slammed the door shut and remained there until morning.
Why did everything in life boil down to sex? It was like the universe was some horndog behind a screen with his hands down his pants. Her matrix theory was beginning to make more sense.
She’d tossed and turned all night, only to be hurried out of bed before sunrise.
West had to meet with his betas and wanted her to come with him.
Fang wasn’t supposed to be the final challenger, apparently.
He’d been expecting Xavier’s cousin to lose the tournament much earlier on.
He wanted to speak with his betas about it, in hopes of figuring out what happened.
Despite Fang-gate, Winter was feeling relief.
West appeared to want his title again. Not only that, he’d ordered her around all morning.
He’d requested oatmeal with maple syrup.
And before they left his cabin, he’d insisted that she keep her wand there.
In order to gain respect from his pack, she’d need to start acting like a wolf.
She humored him with the oatmeal and wand, but there was a line.
She’d hopped on her broom with a hiss and had been flying over him ever since.
His farm was about five miles north of the cabin.
At times, he’d been hard to spot. He galloped so fast he blended in with the snow.
Every now and then, he would look up and bark to help keep her on the right track.
It was a nice change of pace. Not too long ago, he’d let her go the wrong way on purpose for the sole purpose of pissing her off.
West exited the northeastern side of Elmwood Forest, signaling their arrival.
His property was surrounded by white paddocks.
There was no lush grass or patches of wildflowers; everything was coated in snow.
But when she closed her eyes, she could see all the colors.
She would do the same thing in Silver City, pretending all the metallic rooftops were gardens instead.
If the sun would ever let up in the future, maybe there could be.
The massive red barn was a sight for sore eyes. It was larger than the whitewashed house, which made Winter wonder what was staying warm in there. She didn’t see any horses or goats roaming about the frozen yard, not even an angry duck.
She approached the ranch style entry—two long posts flanking the driveway with another cutting across the top. The last time she’d come here, she’d flown over it. She dropped lower this time, zooming underneath it. A metal sign hung down.
Sterling Farm he wasn’t allowed to speak to her with that voice.
Everett rose inhumanly, almost robotically.
“Everyone out!” West shouted. “This meeting is over.”
What meeting?
Winter clutched her broomstick, refusing to turn around. There was a monster at her back. Everett walked away, keeping his head down.
“Not, you,” he snapped. The sharp words halted his beta mid-step.