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“Ifthey can even find us,” Ares grumbles, and Reid whips his head around, pinning his son with a warning stare.
“Shouldn’t we get a better idea of what we’re up against before we jump to changing the rules for the curfew?” I sigh, the leather of the sofa cushions creaking beneath my weight as I lean back, resting my hands atop my backwards hat. “For all we know, this was a one-off.”
“That’s what we thought the last time they hit Denver,” Brock snaps, still glaring daggers at me. “And they lost three members of their pack within a week. I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to lose even one.”
I scowl at him, my tattooed fingers curling into my palms as I bite my tongue against my retort.
He’s not willing to lose members of his pack, but he’ll send his own daughter away.
Fucking hypocrite.
“I think we all need to calm down, come up with some ideas, and reconvene to discuss how to move forward once we’re all rested,” Astrid says coolly, setting her hand on Brock’s shoulder in an attempt to redirect her mate. “For now, let’s just focus on what we already have in place. Where are we at with patrols?”
Avery is in charge of assigning squad fighters to patrols, so she takes the lead, explaining the numbers and routes and shifts while my mind drifts off to a place I rarely allow it to.
It always does when I’m in this house.
Sloane’s bedroom was right down the hall. Some nights, I helped her sneak out through the window, while others, I snuck in to sleep next to her. I wonder if it still looks the same. I remember exactly how her room looked back then- her floral wall mural and that damn pink duvet that used to get tangled around our ankles.
I wish I didn’t. Sloane Masters is dead to me.
I wish I’d never laid eyes on her.
4
It’s a strange feeling, coming home.
Back to the place I grew up; the place it all began. The place I left behind eight years ago when my dad shipped me off to live with my aunt and uncle in Denver, insisting it was a chance for a new start.
As if I had a choice.
I didn’t then, and I don’t now. As soon as he heard that two wolves from the Denver pack were gunned down by hunters, he said I had to come back home. The problem is, the six-pack doesn’t feel like home to me anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. Even when I’d come back here for holidays, I was just visiting; checking in with family and friends and hearing how their lives had moved on without me.
That’s not to say I haven’t kept in touch with people here over the years. I talk to my family all the time, and I’m still close with Avery and Lo. They were excited when they heard I was coming back, so even though it feels strange, at least I’ve got people here who are happy to have me.
I know there’s at least one who won’t be.
I’m under no illusion that things can go back to the way they were before I moved away. I still bear the scars of when I left the six-pack at seventeen, both emotional and physical.
My dad tells me to come straight to the packhouse in Riverton, so naturally, as soon as my brother tells me they’re getting the security squad together to deal with the hunter situation, I bypass the packhouse completely and head for the squad complex instead. My father may be able to force me to come back here, but my days of letting him order me around are long gone. If he didn’t want me to be independent, he shouldn’t have sent me away to Denver in the first place.
The squad complex is a fixture of the six-pack territory. It’s centrally located, almost smack in the middle, right on the fringes of the town of Goldenleaf.Madd’s territory. I heard he became Alpha of the Goldenleaf pack two years back, but he didn’t answer when I called to congratulate him. Not that I was surprised. He hasn’t answered any of my calls since I left.
The squad complex itself is huge- there’s a building along the north side that has dorms for the squad fighters, barracks for new recruits, a dining hall, and plenty of recreational space. Then, further down, there are offices for the squad leaders, a massive weight room for training, and the IT hub. There’s an indoor arena used during inclement weather along the entire east side, bordering the huge outdoor practice field with tall walls to enclose it on the south and west. The gate to enter the complex is on the west side, and that’s where I enter from after I park behind the dorms and walk around the building.
The practice field within the walls of the squad complex is crawling with people when I arrive, fit young squad fighters eagerly awaiting the announcement they’ve been gathered here for. I wander into the fray, a pair of girls turning to watch me curiously as I pass by.
“Hey, you’re new,” one of them comments, and I pause to turn toward her, nodding.
Her red-haired friend peeks out from behind her, squinting suspiciously. “Where are you from?”
They’re young- nineteen or twenty, I’d guess. Probably new to the squad, and not from my pack since they clearly don’t recognize me. “Just got in from Denver,” I say nonchalantly, combing my fingers through my unruly curls.
The two of them smile in recognition. Due to the alliance between Denver and the six-pack, people sometimes relocate, so it’s not out of the ordinary for someone from Denver to suddenly show up here or vice-versa.
“Mated?” the first girl asks, eyes dropping down my petite frame like she’s sizing me up.
I just shake my head.
