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“Well, this will be a tale, my lady.” He took a step in front, using his greater height and bulk to hold back a heavy growth of thorny vines that had been partially blocking the path, never flinching although they stabbed into the flesh along his arm and back.
She hurried through with a murmured thank you, which he ignored.
“None of us had any idea that sorry fucker had gone and built himself a near fortress,” Shale said, falling back in step next to her. “Some packs still prefer near isolation, but as long as they stay in routine contact, the Prime typically let them be until Greylock. Things... changed after that. He realized the damage that could be done. But that’s a different discussion. Thirteen of us went, Jameson, then Niko and Garvey, each of them in charge of a unit, with five soldiers apiece. Niko was still training, hadn’t yet taken his place as his father’s second in command. That title lay with Hattie Brighton and she stayed back with the pack in Durham-Starfell, running things while Jameson was gone. Hattie was pissed because she hadn’t been able to talk Jameson into taking his bodyguards with him.”
Shale went silent for a long moment and they both came to a stop.
Around them, the night was quiet, save for its natural rhythm of birds calling to one another. Even the muted voices of the gathering back in the Hollow had faded to a bare murmur thanks to the distance and the natural sound barrier provided by the trees.
“Jim was one of the ones we lost when Jameson died,” Shale said quietly. “He’d been friends with my father, like an uncle to me. He was the one who suggested my mother and I join Appalachia when we decided to leave Ireland.”
Hurting for the man’s quiet grief, she brushed her hand down his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He covered her hand with his, gave it a quick, companionable squeeze. In an unexpected—and sweet—gesture, he laced their fingers. There was nothing romantic about the gesture. It was more akin to a much older brother showing affection for a younger sister. “Come. Let’s continue our walk. Something in the night has me on edge.”
She felt it too, but she couldn’t explain it.
“By the time Niko dispatched the lieutenants, not many of those left were strong enough to put resistance, although there were still some cruel fucks there, which is why Jameson drafted Phoenix in as the temporary alpha. To be honest, I think your father wanted the job, but... ” He hesitated as he looked at her. “Your father is—was—too much the master games-player to ever be a successful alpha. If he’d wanted it that badly, he should have challenged Graves and been done with it, but he had to play his games. It’s hard to win a pack’s trust that way, especially a pack as broken as the surviving Wolves of Greylock. Samuel Day might have always had the survival of the pack as his primary goal, but their health... well, that was a different matter altogether. As it stands, it’s taken Phoenix nearly a decade to bring things around.”
Hearing her oldest brother’s name hurt. She’s always adored him—had adored all of her brothers.
But Phoenix had been one of the ones behind her being sent to Durham-Starfell. He was nowhere near the manipulator her father had been, but Phoenix could and would work things to his advantage if he thought it would net him the best outcome.
Whether he’d expected things to turn out as they had between her and Niko that first time around, she’d never know.
So much time had passed and none of them had ever been far from her mind.
Now, she found herself thinking of Phoenix, Etan and Saint even more.
Seeing Liam—the contact, hugging him and laughing with him in the few brief hours they’d had—had done so much to heal her heart.
Shale squeezed her hand gently.
Looking up, she saw him watching her with understanding eyes.
“It takes strength, a special courage of the heart and soul to forgive, more than most people can truly comprehend. You’ve got that inside, Zee. I think—”
He went silent even as she tensed, both of them sensing that eerie wrongness in the air come to a blinding crescendo.
A wind had been caressing the leaves and her hair, sending tendrils to dance across her cheeks but in that instant, even the very wind hushed. Time slowed to a snail’s pace as her hearing sharpened in ways she hadn’t even known was possible.
The high-pitched whistle she heard coming from behind her—her brain processed and cataloged it before she even understood she was hearing it.
Shale lunged for her, taking her to the ground before her mind had put a name to the sound.
And blood... there was already blood in the air even as the rational part of her brain kept pace with time.
Not even one full second had passed since she’d tracked the shift in the air, and yet... everything had changed.
The metallic taste of Shale’s blood was in her mouth and she knew he’d taken a bullet meant for her. Instincts screaming, she shoved and twisted, the strength hidden within her small frame making it easier than most would believe for her to flip his far heavier body off hers. That done, she crouched low and dragged him out of the painfully exposed clearing so a huge forest giant protected them. Instinct told her where to go, but it was an instinct she’d never heard before—it wasn’t the wolf. The wolf was on alert, prowling and ready to attack, its senses overwhelmed with the scent of a fellow wolf’s blood.
The wolf whispered for her to run, to hunt, to kill.
But another instinct murmured to her, too, and the music of that murmur was compelling. It was like the very earth spoke to her and told her where the safest place was, even as it told her where the threat was.
Crouching over Shale to keep a low profile, she stared at the gaping wound in his chest, so massive she could have put her fist inside it. Somehow, he was still breathing, but that wouldn’t last. Therians and Fae could take awful wounds, but this... ?
He’ll die if he doesn’t get healing soon. Her wolf howled inside her, mourning this man who could so easily become a friend.
