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GRIFFIN
My fur had bristled at the distant howling. My wolf whined restlessly.
It was a strange feeling; I wasn’t a part of a pack, but I still wanted to answer the call of nature and run with my own kind.
I’d been on my own for so long, and I had started to feel accustomed to being alone. Until a few days ago when I’d started to feel a connection to Cassian’s pack, and that strange urge to belong to others threw me off.
I didn’t want to belong to a group. People had a habit of disappointing me, and Sam kicking me out was Exhibit A.
Keeping my distance was the only way to stay away from the chaos that remained after the attack on the pack. Sam called me up the day after he kicked me out of the warehouse, apologizing and welcoming me back, but I turned him down. Emily probably forced him to call me, anyway.
So, I decided I’d stay away for a while. It was better for everyone in the long run. Besides, I’d grown used to living my life on my own—why stop now?
Now, my legs stretched out in front of me on the sofa as I listened to Morgan chatter on in the kitchen.
I was struggling to slip into the way things used to be, the way we used to talk, and just enjoy each other’s company. Now, I just wanted her around to keep the bad memories at bay. Did that make me a bad friend? Most likely, but it seemed to be working.
“What do you think of nachos and horror movies tonight?” Morgan asked casually.
I looked at her slowly, “Hm, sure.”
She raised her brow at me, placing the bag of chips on the counter and sighing long and drawn-out. “When are you going to move on from that night? You didn’t even like those people. And now you don’t have to worry about Emily, either.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that, Morgan,” I grumbled. The mention of Emily’s name immediately made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “I’m still bonded to her and being apart for so long is making me uneasy.”
Morgan rolled her eyes and shrugged, “Maybe if you keep your distance, it will magically disappear.”
She still wanted me to hate Emily, but it had become harder and harder to maintain the irritation toward the mating bond. Our moments together continuously played through my mind and made me wish for just one more.
I stopped messaging a few days ago. The one-word answers were driving me insane, and I’d rather not hear from her at all than feel like I was a nuisance. Plus, she’d been so busy managing the pack, I would only get in the way.
It had been days since I’d heard from her; aside from the message that Cassian woke up, the only connection I had to them was when I ran at night and heard them howling.
I’d expected them to have taken their revenge by now, but Kellan’s pack was still celebrating their success. So I took a trip to the camp two nights ago and watched in anger as they danced around the fire and high-fived each other while speaking about “the looks on their faces,” and how “watching the life leave that bitch’s eyes felt so good!”
I hadn’t known Grace well, but I’d felt Cassian break when her body hit the ground. I’d felt the love and care she’d given each and every one of them only moments before the attack. Her compassion toward everyone—including me for that short time I was around her—made me wish that I’d been born into a different pack.
How different would my life have been if I’d had someone to love and care for me? Perhaps I would have been an alpha like Cassian, or maybe I would have been happy and not so alone.
It didn’t help to dwell on thoughts like that. I only drifted into that space when I started to feel depressed and cheated out of a good life. However, I refused to stay there and forced the thoughts away as soon as I could muster up the strength.
I wanted revenge on Kellan for Grace’s murder. For the others too. Hell, most of them I didn’t even know, but they were Cassian’s pack members, and they didn’t deserve that.
It was apparent that Morgan wanted her world-hating friend back, but it wasn’t that easy. I’d come to feel needed and wanted since our first trip to the Ancient One, and I missed feeling that way… significant. Like I mattered. I’d never felt that outside of my friendship with Cassian and Morgan. And now Emily.
“Have you found anything else out about Samara?” I asked, changing the subject.
Morgan balked slightly; her eyes widened almost unnoticeably. “No, I’ve been busy with the bar. Speaking of, there was a really strange man that came in a little while ago. He knew my name, but I’d never seen him before and had no clue who he was.”
“The guys at the pub talk about you a lot. Maybe he heard your name through one of them and felt curious. Although, you know how vulgar your regulars can be, maybe he was looking to get a piece of Morgan Puck.” I wiggled my brows at her, and she giggled with an eye roll.
“No, this was different. He was huge, like, really tall—and his eyes were completely milky. He told me that his name was Balt, and he had a weird vibe about him. I don’t know how to explain it,” Morgan revealed. “He came in on the same day as the feral wolf attack and left only minutes before.”
I stared at her for a moment, trying to make the connection. Did this guy have something to do with the attack? No, there’s no way that he could. Feral wolves attack anything if their paths are blocked and wouldn’t go around acting strangely and receiving unwanted attention. “Did you see the attack?”
“I told you already, all I heard was chaos and screaming. When I got outside, there was just a whole bunch of blood and body parts everywhere. It was nasty.” Morgan shivered at the memory.
She bit her lip, pausing before she continued. “I’ve never seen a species like Balt. For a second, I thought he might have been a demon, but it just didn’t match up. I haven’t seen him or heard anything about him since. Talk about eerie.”
