Page 77 of Dark Auctioned Mate

The mission was over. The network was broken up. Justice was served.

Alanis had accomplished her goal. The Lumen would want her back. She had a choice to make—remain with the Weston Pack, or go back to the organization that had been her family for eight years.

Deep down, Rael knew the one she was going to pick. The Lumen had rescued her and given her a new family. Why should she sacrifice that for a pack that barely accepted her? For a bond she never wanted? For him?

They reached Weston pack territory by dawn. News of their success had spread, and lots of people were waiting for them.

Elle stood with Isa, who rushed to Silas as soon as he got out of the car. Sara rocked on her heels, looking anxious.

And the members of the pack who never trusted Alanis, who had doubted her—they were all there, standing about as Rael took his time getting her out of the car.

One of them, an elderly lady called Joan—who had been especially vocal on Alanis not belonging in the Weston pack, took a step forward. “Is it true? What we heard? That she managed to get inside the trafficking network and helped to take it down?

“It is true,” Rael said, raising his voice up a notch so everyone could hear him. “Alanis played a vital role in our triumph. She risked her life to save over thirty women and helped destroy the human trafficking network that had been in operation for years.”

Joan looked at Alanis with awe. “Then the pack owes you a debt. You have my respect, and I regret ever doubting you.”

Other members of the pack nodded. But not every one of them—some still had a cynical, obstinate look. But still, it was more than Rael had ever hoped for.

“Thank you,” Alanis said softly. “That means more than you know.”

Rael gently led her to his house, ignoring the questions from the pack. She needed to rest.

He put her down on the couch with pillows to cushion her sore ribs and went to make tea, because he did not know what to do with his hands.

Alanis was staring at nothing with a blank expression when he returned.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting carefully next to her.

“That it’s over. Eight years of living in fear, of being aware that they were out there somewhere. And now, Gavin is dead. Derek is dead. The pack is destroyed, and I am—”

“Free,” Rael finished. “You can forge your own path without your past having a hold on you.”

“Yeah.” She took the tea from his grasp and took a sip. “Free.”

Rael could not help but notice that she didn’t sound happy about it.

***

The Weston Pack territory was a temporary home to the Lumen operatives and the rescued women who were not well enough to travel.

Rael watched Alanis work with them, despite being injured, helping coordinate rehabilitation efforts. She had a gift for it. She knew how to communicate with trauma victims and how to make them feel safe.

She stayed up late with a woman who was having nightmares and calmed her down. She worked hand in hand with the Lumen to develop personalized care plans for every survivor.

“She is one of us,” Rael overheard someone say. “She might not be able to shift, but she has the heart of a warrior.”

The acceptance wasn’t universal. But it was growing. And Rael was hovering around Alanis. He ensured that she slept, had given her painkillers, and inspected her bandages compulsively.

“I said, I’m fine,” she argued.

“Tell that to your injuries,” Rael countered. “You are not okay. You should allow me to take care of you.”

She did, at first reluctantly, and then with increasing ease. She allowed him to hover, bring her meals, and they slept together in the same room, where he was always there to comfort her when she had nightmares.

But he could feel time running out.

Two weeks after the raid, Deva announced that it was safe to transport the survivors back to Lumen headquarters.