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“You feel it too?” I whisper.
“Yeah, baby,” Dair says. “I feel it too.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ferris growls, taking my hand to drag me away. The air thickens with tension, almost like the town itself feels threatening.
“Wait,” I say, thinking about how well-kept everything is. Quickly, I slip off my backpack and kneel on the ground. Both alphas look confused, but say nothing as they stand around me, protecting me while I rummage through my things. Near the very bottom, I find the hideous scarf that Clay wrapped me in, along with its matching hat. I pull them out, along with my last jar of carrots, and place them in front of the store’s door.
“What are you doing?” Dair asks.
“Paying for what we took,” I reply. His eyes hold mine for long seconds, but he nods. I repack and stand, grabbing his hand to signal that I’m ready to go.
We move quickly out of the small town, not bothering to link up with the paved highways again. I feel eyes on us the whole time, but they no longer feel menacing, only curious.
Night falls over unfamiliar terrain. I’ve never been this far west, nor have I seen land so barren. Our tent is pitched behind the ruins of a rural home, but any direction you look, there’s simply nothing except dust and dirt. Ferris managed to find an old well among the wreckage, and despite the risk, we made a small fire to roast wapato and boil enough well water to fill our new canisters and top everything off. I’ve been saving the empty jars from the preserved food from Grand Prairie, so we fill all of those too.
As I stare into the flames, I feel a large body settling behind me, then massive thighs stretch out on either side of my legs, boxing me into his warmth. Dair’s scent surrounds me in a comforting cloud of rain-soaked forest that always makes me feel like I’m home. The vibrancy of his scent is a welcome reprieve after hours of hiking through dust, and I lean back into his strong chest to breathe him in.
“Are you feeling well?” he asks.
“Yes,” I sigh. Today was the most punishing hike so far with the stifling sun and trying to keep dust out of my eyes. Dair is pushing us harder each day as we gain endurance.
He nestles his face into my hair and breathes. “From the Wastes through to the Foothill Territory, the elevation is going to rise. It’s going to be harder on you than me or Ferris, who grew up near the mountains in the east. You need to tell me if you start to feel ill, and it’s important that you hydrate the most, okay?”
“Yes, alpha,” I tease, and his arms tighten around me with a growl.
“The Wastes are unpredictable,” Dair continues as one of his hands begins massaging my thigh. “But we only have to get through them, okay?”
“Right,” I breathe. “How far is it from the Foothill Territory to yours?”
“To walk, it would take close to a month, and the terrain makes it really dangerous. Lucky for us, once we get there, we can take the steamer into wolf territory.”
“What’s the ‘steamer?’” Ferris asks from across the fire.
“In the Before, there was a train route built between the Foothill Territory and the Northern Pacific to increase winter weather tourism throughout the area. As the climate destabilized and snowfall lessened, so did tourism, and eventually the train track was abandoned. Forty-ish years ago, someone ripped out the electric engine in one of the trains and retrofitted an ancient steam engine they found inside of a museum.
“We work with the Foothill Territory, our nearest allies, to maintain the tracks and protect the train, using it to transport goods and people between our communities. When we arrive in their territory, we’ll use the train, affectionately known as the ‘steamer,’ to travel into the Pacific Northwest.”
“Whoa,” I breathe, looking over at Ferris, who looks equally as amazed. “That’s incredible.”
“Yes, it’s the only reason we were even able to contact Grand Prairie. Imagine having to spend a month hiking through the mountains every time you needed to use the radio. Lately, we’ve just been sending people back and forth during supply exchanges.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Ferris says. “I’d love to know how they managed the engine swap, honestly. What does it run on? Do you burn wood, or maybe coal? Shit, if we could manage to get coal from the Appalachian wolves, we’d have infinite fuel. That’s a long time off, obviously,” he trails off.
I laugh softly, smiling at Ferris’s excitement. I know that he loves to tinker with tech and mechanical gadgets—a lot of the more sophisticated solar setups at Grand Prairie were his ideas and designs—and I also know that River was stifling him by making him captain of the guard. Maybe when we get to Dair’s territory, he can start working with tech again.
Dair promises that Ferris can learn all about it on our two-day journey from the Foothill Territory to the Northern Pacific. It’s hard to imagine we’ll soon have two days to just rest on a moving train. We sit in silence, listening to the dying pops of the fire, and I rest my head back against Dair’s chest so I can look up at the sky. Somewhere, Vale is looking at the same stars, and I can only hope she’s as happy as I am. As protected and content. I can’t wait to see her again, and for the first time I am confident that I will see her again.
I yawn, suddenly very tired, and Dair kisses the side of my head before standing up and offering me his hand. “Up you go, little one. Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow will be here whether we’re ready or not.”
[ 42 ]
DAIR
THE WASTES
The Wastes
8 Days Until the Full Moon
