Risa
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“You fucking liar.”I scoff, narrowing my eyes at Xander as he bursts into raucous laughter.
As we emerge from the woods after an obscene amount of hiking, we look out over the sea from the top of the cliff. A smattering of tiny islands are interconnected by sandbars, or close enough that you could swim if you were determined enough. The low tide leaves a strip of land as a bridge between the coastline beneath us and the first island. Several have dense forests in the center, while some of the ones in the distance rise high enough that they very well may be dormant, miniature volcanos. It’s a combination of sandy shores and rocky outcroppings, arcing out in a crescent shape.
And the only way to reach them is either by boat, or the narrow land bridge that will be eaten by the tide come evening.
"We didn't drive themintothe sea, technically." Devin’s eyes light up as he gazes down, looking suddenly anxious to get home. "It's easier to protect them when you only have one point to guard. Anyone arriving by boat we’d see coming from miles away, and the bridge is only accessible for half of the day."
Hunter speaks softly, eyes flicking to where Addie still has his hand in a vice grip, like she has ever since he woke up two days ago. "So you're able to protect them, but still have a life of your own, because there are less things to watch out for."
Caleb claps him on the shoulder on his way to lead us down the long path carved into the stone to our right, to the coast beneath the cliff. "It's not as hard as you might expect, either."
At his words, Bane frowns. "There's no pull. If one incorruptible draws people in, islands full of them should be impossible to hide."
Aiden snorts from behind me. "Oh where, I wonder, did tales of sirens originate?"
"We solved that issue over the last century, though!" Caleb hurries to assure, pointing at the outer cropping of islands. "There's a powder we make from a plant that grows at the base of the mountains. Dissolve it in a daily drink, and it suppresses that draw down to a manageable level. Only way anyone is going to notice it is if they get within a mile of this place, and that's where we come in."
At this point, pristine, white sand starts spilling into my shoes as we make our way across the beach towards the bridge, each step increasingly uncomfortable, but I refuse to take them off and risk cutting myself on a stray rock or shell. "What about me?" I nervously rub one of my arms, self-conscious, and Stryker takes a step closer, throwing an arm over my shoulders. "Since mine seems to be worse than you're used to."
Aiden looks away guiltily. "I'd recommend upping your dose to three times a day. You know, just to be safe."
We have to walk in a single file line across the path that extends about a mile between the coast and the first island, gentle waves making the algae covered ground even more slick. At the guys’ not-so-subtle urging, unwilling to have their backs to the wolves as we dive into uncharted territory, they ensure the pack leads the way so we have a clear exit. Bane goes next, followed by me and the kids, while Stryker and Mason pull up the rear. And with as closely as Hunter’s taken to shadowing Mason since he woke up, it’s a miracle that our mutual sire hasn’t tripped over him yet.
I might be needy for their touch, but the kid’s little better than a baby duckling. For two days he’s been glued to his side, looking at Mason like he hung the moon, and wants to emulate his every action like the guy’s his new idol and mentor.
The pressure to not fuck up is already threatening to make Mason crack. While he thinks he’s hiding it well from me and the guys, he’s epically failing, especially with the emotional bond working against him where I’m concerned.
Xander clears his throat. "But after it builds up in your system a bit, it should be fine. We'll have to test it out in about a week or so to be safe, and until then, we'll warn the other shifters to stay masked up. Hopefully, by the end of next week, everything will be back to normal."
"You say that like we've already agreed to stay," Mason points out, raising an eyebrow that Hunter quickly matches with a scowl in support. "We said we'd hear you out, take a look around; that's all."
Stryker chimes in, reinforcing the notion that they’re still skeptical in case there was any possible doubt. "We don't even know how many people you're talking about. Twenty? Three hundred? If that medicine you make actually works, there's no reason we'd need to stay here. We can stock up and come back for more when we start running low, but could live anywhere, it sounds like."
I try to ignore the stab of disappointment that lances through me with their words, but as much as I’m already tired of running, they aren't wrong. We could very well be walking straight into a trap, tricked into living in a glorified animal pen with hundreds of other incorruptibles, ripe for the draining. Even if the wolves aren’t lying, if our short stint at the rental house showed me anything, it’s that as much as I may not want to be alone, I don't really want to be surrounded by people either.
But Hunter and Adelaide clearly don't feel the same way. They're starved for social interaction, to have somethingnormalfor once in their lives. And now that Mason is Hunter's sire, too, we need to think about what's best for them; not just me, or what the four of us may want. They're not our kids, but it's not like we can abandon them either. And after what a shitty experience Mason had with his sire? He's determined to do better,bebetter... but things are weird, everyone simply making the best of a tragic situation.
I'm grateful that they're older so we can skip the toddler stage of parenting, but truth be told, I've never really wanted kids. Add in their experience with their uncle, and I don't exactly want to think of myself as their cool, fun aunt, either. We might be distantly related, but I still feel like a stranger that simply tried to do the right thing, only for it to bite me in the ass.
There's a tense moment before Caleb says, "You don't have to stay if you don't want to." Pulling to a stop not far from the island, he rakes a hand through his hair. "We rotate between guard duty, and scouting; every shifter around here does. Not because we were hired; fuck, we don't even getpaid. We do it because-“ his shoulders slump, deflating a little. “We do it because we want to help people. This is our home, and we love everyone that lives here, even if they piss us off sometimes. We’ve heard countless stories of what these people and their ancestors used to go through regularly. So if we can save even one person from that fate?"
He meets my eyes, begging me to understand. "Then it was worth it. We didn't find you in time to save you, Risa, not really. These guys would have saved you from your mother likely before she ever got you back home with as nearby as they were. But at least Addie doesn't have to go through anything like what you've had to.That’swhy we do this."
Devin starts walking across the sand onto the island without looking back to see if we’re following. "If you want to take the meds and be on your way, more power to ‘ya. We've done all that we can, so I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. Just don’t be so stubborn that you ruin the girl’s life out of spite trying to prove you don’t need anyone except yourselves.”
The rest of the walk is made in awkward, contemplative silence. Leaving the beach behind, we enter the dense trees. Sweat trickles down my temples by the time the wolves slow down, faint chatter sending my senses into overdrive. A brief flash of panic causes my muscles to lock up, remembering the last time I was in any sort of crowd.
“It’s alright,” Stryker murmurs, lacing his fingers with mine to ground me. “I’ve got you. Even if they were to try to blind or deafen us, I’m right here this time.” He flexes his grip on my hand, knowing instinctively that I need that anchor right now. “And I’m not letting go.”
After taking a few steadying breaths, I begin walking again, the trees thinning out to reveal a hidden clearing that shifters seem to be so fond of setting up shop in. Small homes made of wood and stone lie before us, thatched roofing made of palm fronds and sticks. They’re large enough to house a small family relatively comfortably, and a small rustling overhead draws my eye, revealing a network of tree houses interconnected with rope bridges. A quick assessment shows a few dozen homes, but closing my eyes to focus, I count about sixty people in the vicinity.
“Caleb!” someone shouts, nodding his head since he’s busy texting and I furrow my brow in surprise. “Thought you’d all be back a week ago.”
The man in question rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hit a few snags. Bright side, we have some potential newcomers, so any chance you could take point arranging a bonfire tonight? Give them a chance to meet everybody?”
