It’s kind of hard not to under these circumstances.
Reaper claps me on the shoulder, “You’re family.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, emotion clogging my throat.
They feel like family too, more so than my own family ever did. I don’t know how to find the right words to express that to them in the way that I want to.
Thankfully, before I have to find a response, a vision washes over me.
“There’s a group approaching,” I say before the vision has even ended.
“Are they a threat?” Kill asks immediately, an edge to his voice.
Chapter Fifteen
Zev
Ishake my head, “I don’t think so, but the answer is murky.”
“That’s not very reassuring, mate,” Mayhem mutters.
“It’s all I’ve got,” I reply.
Everyone falls silent as we pay strict attention to our surroundings, listening for clues of the approaching group as we continue to move forward slowly and cautiously.
Then we hear them, the undeniable proof that we are being approached again.
“Do you recognise the voices?” Rival asks Rast quietly.
He shakes his head, “No, it could be the Others. We need to be extremely careful. Be prepared to fight.” He looks uneasy and adds, “Maybe we should run?”
“No, we need to meet with them,” I say before the thought has even fully formed in my mind.
“I don’t like it,” Rast says. “But I trust you.”
His words seem to surprise him. It would surprise me more if I hadn’t seen that he’s going to become a permanent member of our family.
He’s not ready to hear that yet, and to be honest, I don’t think Farren is either.
I’m looking forward to watching that one play out.
There’s no time for anything else as a shadowed group emerges from the treeline next to us.
Everyone freezes.
“Don’t attack,” one of the other group says, and it takes me a moment to realise that he is talking to us.
“We aren’t going to attack you so long as you don’t attack us,” Farren surprises me by answering.
They look over our group cautiously.
“So far we’ve learned that you normally attack,” one of them says, receiving a look that is universal for shut up.
“And we’re getting fucking sick of it,” a male with huge horns says with an edge of anger to his voice.
“Which group are you with, the compound fucks, or the wild ones?” One of the larger guys asks, his eyes flashing briefly to those of his beast.
“Actually, we aren’t associated with either group,” I explain. I know that it’s important that they know that. “We’re trying to get to the King's castle.”
