Seeing Ava seems to have breathed life into my limbs again.
Our return is easier. Perhaps it’s because we’ve already trampled a path in the snow, or maybe moose stew is just that rejuvenating. Either way, I’m confident I won’t be a complete mess by the time we return to Wolf’s Landing.
And if a part of my brain is thinking, good, I won’t bring shame to Kellan’s status in the pack, well, I’m pretending not to notice too much.
It’s hard to be a human among wolves. Humans aren’t as strong, aren’t dialed into the pack bond, and just aren’t as respected as other wolves. Even refugees outside the pack find a place in Wolf’s Landing. Jobs to do. Friends. A circle of community that gives back.
Me? I have Ava. And Kellan. And the Grand Sage. Even Elverly’s mostly lost to the daily cycle of feeding so many people.
It isn’t that I’m unhappy—shockingly, I’m pretty okay, outside of wanting to find my parents—but that I feel lost.
No one really knows what to do with me. Which is fair, because I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m starting to understand why Ava had such a hard time standing on her own two feet and growing a sense of self-worth; it’s like floating in a sea on a piece of driftwood while everyone else plays happy dolphin family.
Does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t.
I’ve made a few friends, but it’s all surface-level. It’s not like before, which is probably because I’m now known as the beta’s mate. They all treat me a little differently now, which is why it’s so nice to have Mira with us today. A little bit of normal interaction in this crazy mess of a new life.
I’ll get it figured out. I know I will.
In a good mood, well-fed, and with the sun rising high to help a little with the frigid temperatures, we stroll arm-in-arm behind the other wolves, who help Kellan drag along the sled of moose meat.
Technically, I know he doesn’t need that much help and could bring the moose back himself. He’s strong enough. But there always has to be an extra bunch of wolves around to keep me safe.
After being kidnapped by a crazy vampire, I have no problem with this idea. I just feel bad for the guys watching over me. They’re probably bored.
Then again, they get to see the weird shit the Grand Sage makes me do, so at least it’s entertaining. Maybe.
But then my mind wanders to my captivity, and how people seem to think I’ve been through more trauma than I did. It was terrible, yes. But I only saw the crazy vampire once. Now that I’m free, it honestly kind of feels like I got off pretty lightly.
Shouldn’t everything have been… I don’t know. More traumatic? Maybe a couple missing limbs or something? I’ve read enough books and movies to know I’m lucky not to be dead right now. Or creepily mind-enslaved like Marisol…
"Something’s wrong." Mira’s mutter distracts me from my random introspection, her arm tense against mine.
The shifters ahead of us freeze mid-step. Even from behind, I notice their bodies are as rigid as stone.
Kellan slows to a complete stop, glancing around.
"Kellan?" I hate how small my voice sounds, but damn it, I’m fucking terrified now, and no one’s telling us what’s going on. "What is it?"
He doesn’t answer immediately, still locked in whatever silent communication is happening through the pack link. His jaw clenches as he scans the sparse trees in the area.
But there’s nothing there.
I know I’m just human, but there’s nothing out there. It’s all snow. A few trees here and there. Some hills I guess someone could be hiding behind? But we can see everywhere.
The silence stretches, broken only by the soft padding of wolf paws in snow as our guards adjust their positions. I want to ask more questions, but if Kellan isn’t talking, it has to be for a good reason. Maybe he’s still listening to someone else.
Mira’s sharply indrawn breath has me looking at her face, then following her gaze to something moving in the snow.
Dark specks, quickly growing larger, coming down one of the small hills I’d mentioned.
The wind is coming from their direction, so it makes no sense when Mira whispers, "I can’t smell them."
That… can’t be good.
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