My lip is trembling for some reason, one of my legs beginning to shake.
“I thought ...” My mind is a big, jumbled mess. “When you called me here, I thought—”
“Your mind was compromised, Blood Wolf. You let that monster get to you. I felt it from here, clear as day.”
“I wasn’t prepared—I didn’t expect—”
She waves her hand like she’s shooing away a bug.
“If you want to be the blood wolf and fight for your pack, you will need to get prepared. I stepped in to stop further calamity. But I gave no word that I could be of further assistance.”
Pressing against her knees for leverage, she begins to stand. Quickly, I move to help her. She nods at the stick on the ground, which I collect and hand to her, the papery skin of her finger brushing against mine, then I grab her basket.
At the base of the tombstone sits what looks like a slice of apple pie and piece of raw steak.
“His favorite,” Mal says, noticing me looking.
I follow Mal’s lead as we begin the slow walk back to the house.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened last year and I’m sorry about Kairos,” I say, happy to plead if need be. “But without the rogues on our side Walter is too powerful. We’ll fall.”
“Like many great packs before yours.”
“People will get hurt.”
She glances at me as we emerge from the tree line.
“People always get hurt, Blood Wolf.”
I stop as she continues walking a few steps more.
“Is that it then? People get hurt and I’m supposed to accept that?”
Mal stops as well and turns to me, leaning heavily on her stick. The house that Kairos grew up in stands behind her. Tall, proud, a monument to his legacy.
“No,” Mal says. “You mustn’t. But this is your battle, Max. Not mine and not the rogues’.”
“You don’t care then?”
“Packs have been fighting for centuries.” She shrugs. “It’s what they do and what they will continue to do. I won’t risk more lives because of an inevitability.”
I shake my head in disbelief. Sure, she’s grieving. And I know, Iknow,she’s been through enough shit. But I can’t believe she would just let people get hurt like this.
“Then how are we supposed to change things?” I say, stepping forward, tears surprisingly springing into my eyes. “If no one will help us lift the hammer, how are we supposed to break the chain?”
Mal’s eyes narrow, like she’s looking through my chest and rib cage to the very heart of me.
“You believe this mate of yours, this young alpha, is really capable of making change?”
“Yes.” Spit flies from my mouth.
“Then you’re a fool.”
Mal turns and, without looking back, crosses the yard and disappears inside the house.
My teeth chatter and my fingers dig into the palms of my hands.
Has this whole trip, my whole mission to recruit the rogues to fight at our side come to this? To nothing? Maybe I am a fool. A fool to think anyone would look beyond their narrow field of vision to help someone else.
