Step one had him walking through the tents of their displaced pack, in the hope his mother had finally joined them. Somewhere during the journey from their packlands to Alpha Keon’s land, she had gone missing, and he feared the worst.
Thatcher had never truly liked his mother. He saw her affection as a weakness, while Milo thought it pathetic but hardly her fault. Thatcher had lured many women into the trap of believing he had a heart and soul, only for them to later discover it wasn’t true. His mother couldn’t be blamed for falling for a lie, when a dozen other women had made the same mistake. Each one bearing him a child, giving Milo a host of angry, broody male siblings. Only Usher had genuine emotions and had bothered to act as a brother to him while growing up.
Now Milo would repay that kindness by freeing them from a toxic family. If he could find his mother, he might convince her to join him. Or delve deeper into the extent of his gifts. She had always been secretive about what the gift was, how it could be used, and what purpose it had, but it was about time she told him the truth.
“Haley!” he shouted, seeing her ahead, standing chatting to two brutish idiots vying for her affection. They were both older and part of the perimeter guard, and Milo hated everything about them. Milo watched her turn, roll her eyes, and excuse herself, as if he was a burden.
She could take a jump in the nearest lake, for all he cared.
“What is it?” Haley asked, meeting him halfway so he didn’t have to walk so far on the crutches. It was hard enough to use them on grass and mud, without traipsing aimlessly with no direction.
“Have you seen Mother?”
She wrinkled her nose and tossed a lock of long blond hair over her shoulder. “Father said she didn’t come with us. He thinks she might have abandoned the pack.”
Though Milo didn’t admit it, he hoped it was true, because she would be safe, beyond Thatcher’s reach. But the fact Thatcher was the source of the rumour made him uncomfortable, unable to tell if she had left of her own choice or if he’d taken this opportunity to rid himself of someone he disliked. The thought made him nauseous.
“If you see her, let her know I want to speak to her,” he said, seeing no other way forward. He turned on a swivel of his foot, then placed his crutches into position to return to his tent. He needed more time to think.
“Wait.” Haley smiled when he turned back, a cold, calculating thing. “There’s a rumour you’re going into the pack tomorrow. That you’ve been given leave to have no guards. Can I come with you?”
Milo resisted rolling his eyes, though he knew what she wanted. A new pack meant new people to fuss over her, to praise and adore her. It was sad to see how shallow she’d become, and he wished there was a way to reverse the depressing decline of a girl who had once been the only sunshine in his life. “I’ve been sent with a task. I’m not out for a stroll to enjoy myself,” he reminded her, though he wished he was capable of enjoying a long walk without the burden of the crutches, constant pain, and the barrage of pins and needles that came with his condition.
“Can I come?” she asked, looking pleased despite the monotony of the task.
“Fine.” He turned and began walking, not surprised she fell into step. No doubt planning to grill him about the mission and whether she could help. He wouldn’t tell her, but it would be annoying to keep repeating himself until she accepted it wasn’t something exciting to be shared and gossiped about.
And she would. Milo couldn’t trust her with this secret. She flirted and gossiped with any boy over sixteen with a pulse and would tell anyone whatever popped into her head if she thought it made her look smart, cool or important.
“I hope Keon’s cute,” Haley rambled as they entered his tent.
Milo didn’t resist. He gratefully sank into the nearest seat and rolled his eyes at her innocent stupidity. “Father didn’t bring us here to make a mating match, and even if he did, the rumours are that Alpha Keon is gaoj,” he warned, not surprised she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Another unfortunate thing she’d inherited from their father. “Father came here for one reason: to take over this pack. He plans to use Simeon’s theft of an important item as leverage to force the Meskli to hand him this pack in repayment.”
Haley cocked her head and perched on his desk. “Why can’t he just return the thing Simeon stole?”
That was a good question, but one she shouldn’t mention to their father. Milo had already had that argument. “It’s important to our family and it belongs with us, but Father knows if someone else gets their hands on it, they might learn how important it is and keep it from us,” he explained, as it was the easiest, and mostly honest, interpretation of their father’s plans.
“How did he steal it in the first place?” Haley asked with no idea how dangerous that question was.
“During the battle.” Milo would say no more. The idea it was stolen during a time of war and chaos, when Simeon’s pack invaded theirs, was more palatable than the truth only Milo knew. Even Thatcher believed Simeon had taken the journal.
No, it was better Haley never knew. There was no telling how Thatcher would react, or if she blurted it out to the wrong person.
She smiled and kicked a leg out, admiring her boots. “I bet Keon iswaycuter than Simeon. I hear he’s been in Dnara for a long time, and he must have learned all sorts there.”
Milo hummed and let her keep talking about insignificant things. He didn’t doubt she was right about Keon, and that was why their father was worried.
Keon, as an Alpha, was unpredictable. What lessons or ideas did he return from Dnara with? What would he change, within his pack? Being openly gaoj was bad enough, in Thatcher’s mind, but if Keon was accepting, perhaps planning a same-sex mating, that would only escalate the feud between them. Mother help them if he took after Simeon. Just because rumours claimed Keon was a fairer, better man than his elder brother didn’t mean they were true.
If Milo believed every rumour, he’d think himself an incapable idiot, an invalid, and one stumble from being executed because he was no longer of use to his father. Yet, Thatcher had promised him the position of Beta, because even he accepted Milo was the only child he had with the aptitude for such a responsibility.
No, Milo prayed Keon was nothing like his brother. Perhaps he would return the journal, if they found it, without a fuss. That might have been the case before his father began throwing threats across the table, but Milo could still plead for logic and reason, if he could get the measure of the man. As long as he was nothing like Simeon, there was hope.
The fact was, Simeon wanted the journal because Thatcher was interested in it. He didn’t know or care what it was, or what it did, only that Thatcher wanted it. But he never got the chance to use it as a bargaining chip, as Milo presumed he might have, if he hadn’t died shortly after.
Which sparked a curious thought Milo hadn’t considered before. The theft of the book had been the catalyst for this, and his mother had begun acting strange days before it went missing. Had she known it was about to be stolen and her value to Thatcher would be diminished? Had she planned to leave, at the first opportunity, aware Thatcher would fight to reclaim the journal and have no more use for her?
Milo couldn’t blame her for doing exactly what he was planning. When it came to men like Thatcher, sometimes the only choice was to leave, at risk of the unknown dangers of the world, or remain and die at the hands of the monster who caged you.
