“You two can fuck this out later; the point is that lamia can and will breach a pack’s territory with the proper motivation,” Bastien announces, and I don’t miss the glint of amusement in his eyes.
Fucking weirdo.
“Vinna went with that lamia, Sorik,” Torrez growls out the name. “He didn’t attack a pack of shifters to get to her. So if she agrees not to go wandering off looking for trouble, all should be fine.”
I roll my eyes.
“You all can stand on the border of their territory if it makes you feel any better, but I guarantee the pack isn’t going to let you get any closer than that. And whether you like it or not, the Witch and I have to do this. I’m not sure how large the pack is, but even if they’re relatively small, it’s a bad idea to piss them off. The last thing we need is to add another enemy to our list. The invitation to join them for a meal has been extended, and we’re going.”
With that, Torrez walks away. “Stop looking at my furry ass, Witch,” he shouts over his shoulder.
My eyes snap up from his completely bitable—and hairless—ass, and I adopt a completely innocent mien. Torrez flashes into a wolf and trots back in the direction of the houses like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Ryker and Knox both crack up, and I mentally chantnothing to see here, folks.I look down and find Sabin’s forest-green eyes waiting for mine. I’m still standing over him, and I crouch to wipe sweat from his forehead.
“Fuck, are you okay?” I ask as I scan his face for any more hints of pain, then breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t find any.
“Yeah,” Sabin tells me, a slight tremor in his voice. “I think we shouldn’t be allowed to wander off on our own anymore,” he teases, and I can’t help the chuckle that sneaks out of my mouth.
“Group sex it is,” I tell him, and he barks out a laugh as I help him stand up.
“I’m totally making a t-shirt for you that says Trouble Magnet,” Sabin teases.
“Make it black so it matches the Captain Cockblock shirt I’m making for you. Then we can walk around hand in hand, like one of those annoying matchy-matchy couples, kissing each other with too much tongue and freaking people out.”
Sabin gets to his feet shakily, and Valen and Ryker reach out to steady him and help him back to the house. He shakes his head with a snort and looks back over his shoulder at me. “Like I said, you’re trouble.”
I rub a tired hand over my face as I watch them walk away and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me at Sabin’s words. “You know you like it,” I shout out as they disappear into the trees.
A distant but distinct, “Fuck yeah I do,” reaches me through the foliage, and it tugs my tired, stressed out face into a smile.
11
We all stand in the middle of nowhere, running our eyes over everything we can see with the aid of flashlights and a gas lantern. Despite multiple arguments against it over the past three days, all of us stand in an awkward cluster near the border of the Volkov pack’s territory. Muriel stands on the other side of the invisible line, patiently waiting for us to break apart.
“Are you fucking sure this is going to be okay?” Bastien asks Torrez for the nine millionth time today.
“It will be fine. If anything attacks the pack, you all can rush in and save the day. Stop worrying so much.” Torrez pats Bastien on the back a couple times and then laces his fingers with mine.
I’ve never held his hand before, and it feels weird as fuck. The fact that I feel weird about it at all doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me because I’m pretty close to dry humping him at any given moment, so you wouldn’t think hand holding would be a pearl clutching situation, but apparently it is. I feel like I’m about to go on a first date, although I guess I kind ofamabout to go on a first date. Torrez pulls me over the invisible line delineating the pack territory, and Muriel turns around and leads us away from the guys.
I don’t look back or get too dramatic about saying goodbye to them. They’re already at DEFCON one, and any sign of nerves or uncertainty from me could have them crossing the line literally and starting some messed up war with these shifters. Or at least that’s how Torrez explains it, and since he would know pack rules better than the rest of us, we’re deferring to his expertise on the matter.
Torrez lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders instead. It makes it awkward to walk since I have my hands fixed to my side, but I relax after a minute and absorb his warm comfort. None of us talk as we make our way further into pack territory, and after about a half an hour, we walk into an open area that has two dozen cabins nestled inside of it. Muriel guides us through the smattering of log housing, and we reach a clearing at the center of all the houses. There are several long tables set up with benches that are full of the Volkov pack, who are already gathered and waiting for us.
The talking and boisterousness calms as Muriel leads us toward the rows of tables, and I try not to squirm as I feel the pack watching us and taking our measure. I take a deep breath and tell my nerves to fuck off. It may be Torrez that’s making me nervous, but they won’t know that. They’ll just smell the unease, and I don’t want to offend or put a target on my back. I shake off any anxiety and slip my game face on. Torrez gives me an approving squeeze, and I wrap the arm that’s sandwiched awkwardly between us around his lower back. Torrez dips his head down and breathes me in, and as odd as that may be, it helps to fortify me for some reason.
Two people stand up from the center of the last row of tables, and Muriel leads us to them.
“Welcome, welcome, we are so very happy to have you. We don’t get visitors often, so this is a treat for us,” the large man standing bellows at us.
He looks like the human version of the Ghost of Christmas Present fromThe Muppet Christmas Carol. His red beard sways as he talks, and he bounces on the balls of his feet like he can barely contain his enthusiasm. I immediately like him.
“My name is Fedor Volkov. I am the alpha of this pack, and this is my mate, Manya Volkov.”
He gestures to a tall lean woman with silvery-blonde hair and dark depthless eyes. She smiles sweetly at us and dips into a tiny little curtsey.
“I’m Mateo Torrez, formerly of the Silas pack, and this is my mate, Vinna Aylin,” Torrez introduces in return.
“Oh, Aylin is it?” Manya asks, and her focus on my last name makes my hackles rise with worry. “You didn’t take your mate’s last name?”
