Sighing, I uncross my legs. “What would you like to know?”
“Let’s start with how the hell you snuck into Lupercalia."
Briefly, I explain to Axe my connection to Maurleen and Wyatt, how I lived with them as a nomad for a few years, staying under the radar. Up until a week ago, my last shelter was among Wyatt’s former pack, Glacier Meadow, where they were less than thrilled to be harboring a human. No one more than their Alpha, Paul Childers, who happens to be a raging dick.
Axe bobs his head, taking a moment to process. "This witch, Maurleen, is also mated to one of us? What sort of magic does she have?”
"Maurleen’s gift is communicating with the dead.”Well, sort of.“She comes from a lineage of witches in Jasper Ridge. Vampires picked most of them off after the last avalanche practically swept the town away.”
He nods, oddly unsurprised by this. Vampires thrive on hunting in the small-town establishments beyond the enforcer-patrolled borders of the Heartlands. The deeper I go into wolf country, the better I'll sleep at night. And Aurora’s Belt is as deep as it gets.
“And your human family?"
A shard of pain twinges in my chest. "We haven’t spoken since my mother passed."
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, voice softening. “I also lost my mother, but it happened some time ago.”
How unfortunate that is the first thing we have in common.
“Where are you from originally?”
"Crayford.”
"The Plains? Damn.”
“Were you hoping for a more convenient match?” I quip.
"I wouldn't say this is the easiest predicament I've ever had to explain to the pack.”
Water spews from my lips. "Predicament?”
“No. I didn’t mean . . .” His jaw clenches for a beat.
“Do you think my greatest aspiration in life was to be abducted by some egotistical?—"
“That isnotwhat’s going here.”
“Says the male who left me no choice.”
“Look,” he digresses with a growl. “This sort of thing doesn’t happen—a union between a lycan and a human. But the scent of a mate never lies. Like hell was I going to let you walk out of that forest with anyone else.”
His fumbled words leave me affronted. Retreating into my mind, I stare out the window, imagining myself leaping onto each cloud that passes by. The plane gradually tilts downwards, cutting through the wispy floaters. Down, down we go until the night sky is wide open again and a chain of what must be fifty archipelagos are revealed below. Then, a peninsula. A few moreminutes of listening to the whirring of the jets, and finally, a runway comes into view.
Few words are exchanged between Axe and I as we drive to his territory in his pickup truck, which could easily pass for a tank. My body jostles around as we continue along the unpaved road, but I’m relieved to be back on solid ground, grateful that the throbbing agitated by the altitude has nearly subsided. For most of the ride, I am transfixed by the glowing celestial paint across the black sky: undulating strokes of green, yellow, and fuchsia, all bleeding into each other. The aurora beams, illuminated before this peaceful little seaside town. A marvelous first impression, I must say.
"It never gets old," Axe drawls.
His attention fixes on the inclining road in front of us, lined with thick conifers. The truck slows as we approach a tall iron gate, complete with finial spikes to ward off trespassers. He rolls down his window, punches in a four-digit code, and proceeds onward as the gate swings open, granting us entry.
My jaw drops when we reach the top of the hill, approaching what looks to be a sprawling three-story mansion built of timber and limestone. Boulders and thriving evergreen shrubs cover the dormant flower beds, which are ruggedly beautiful even in winter. Through the first of three slate archways, two massive log cabins appear in the near distance.
Like most lycan settlements, Wyatt’s pack lives in the heart of lush wilderness. The home he shares with Maurleen resides in a community of modest ranches not far from the Bissex border. There’s about four dozen members total, with Alpha Paul occupying the largest house with his mate and son.
The size of this estate could easily house all of them.
I admire the mastery of stonework which forms the largest arch—the main entrance—revealing a walnut-stained door with wrought-iron embellishments. A timeless geometric design thatis repeated across the exterior of the impressive fortress, along with elegant lanterns.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll arrange a tour of the pack grounds for you.”
