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“So she’s friendly?” I was hopeful that I didn’t need to fear this witch the way I’d been taught to fear them.
“Sure, for a witch,” Sheila said. “She seems like she means well, but sometimes she freaks me out, if I’m being honest. But please don’t tell her that.”
“I definitely won’t,” I promised.
We walked in silence for a while, then I started asking questions about the people at camp to pass the time. It seemed like a good distraction for Sheila.
She’d been at camp for years and knew everyone. She told me about Mario and how he’d won his first classic car in a poker game with a goblin. He’d been a chef in a major city and while she didn’t know exactly why he’d gone feral, she was pretty sure the goblin mafia was involved.
“I didn’t even know there was a goblin mafia,” I admitted.
“There’s a seedy underworld for every species,” she said. “But out of all of them, the vampires are by far the worst. Nobody crosses them.”
“I always thought the witches were the worst,” I said.
“They’re awful, but they are a bit more straightforward. Vampires will spend decades waiting for the perfect revenge. That whole immortal thing works in their favor, I suppose,” she said.
I’d never met a vampire. Or a goblin. Or even a human, to be honest. I’d been so sheltered where I grew up that all I knew about the outside world was from books and lectures in school. I’d ignored more than I should have because I didn’t think I’d need to use it since I was hoping to blend in with humans and ignore the supernatural world. Now, I wished I’d listened better.
“Where do witches fall into all this?” I asked.
“Well, they hate us,” she said. “There’s been escalating violence between witches and wolf shifters for years but neither of the governing bodies seem to care. It’s like it doesn’t exist. It feels like we’re nearing war, but nobody wants to officially acknowledge that. I think the packs are going to be fucked if the witches decide to strike. The king doesn’t seem to have any kind of plan.”
I frowned. I’d been taught that you didn’t cross witches, but I never learned that it was still a problem between them and us until I met the feral shifters. I hoped things didn’t escalate to the point of war. Especially since the king didn’t seem to do much to actually help anyone. “What about Wolf Creek? What do you know about my pack?”
“Well, your pack is notorious for sure. Definitely the one pack you don’t fuck with because they’ll hit you with the toxin and destroy you.”
“How did I not know about that?” I asked, feeling stupid for being so blind.
“I doubt they were teaching you about it in school. I mean, your family invented the damn toxin and you didn’t even know. They went to pretty great lengths to keep it secret,” Sheila said. “To the rest of us, Wolf Creek looks like a cult. But it seems like you weren’t part of the inner circle.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “What else don’t I know?”
“Well, most packs have to worry about witches. Expect for Wolf Creek. I’m not sure of the full extent, but I heard your pack does things to appease them.”
“Like what?” I couldn’t imagine what the pack gave in exchange for being on the witches’ good side.
“I’ve heard all kinds of stories. Crazy things like sacrificing babies, or creating wolf-witch hybrids, to simpler things like growing herbs for them.” Shelia shrugged. “Who knows what the truth is.”
I caught the sounds of Kyle and Malcom mumbling and figured they were moving Alec again. I turned to them and offered my help to get him onto Malcom’s back, then felt for Alec’s breathing and pulse.
“How is it?” Shelia asked.
“He’s still breathing, but it does feel weaker,” I said. “Maybe we should stop and see if rest would help him?”
Sheila turned and looked toward the sky. The sun was low in the horizon and it would be dark in about an hour. “We might as well find a good place to camp.”
We walked a little longer until we found a grove of trees that might help shield us from view. Not that it protected us if my mate was tracking my scent. I had to hope his cocky threats about me coming to him were enough to send him back to Wolf Creek with his tail between his legs.
The group had managed to salvage two of our packs, so we set out a sleeping bag for Alec. My heart felt like it was shattering when I looked down at his face. Alec’s eyes were closed, he had deep scratches on his right cheek, and cuts and bruises all over his body.
I untied one of the bandages we’d made from a blanket before we started walking. The bleeding has stopped, but the cut was still deep. Around the edges of the wound, it was red and angry. I reapplied the bandage and quickly checked the rest of his wounds. Thankfully, all the bleeding had stopped but none of them looked clean. “He’s still not healing.”
“What I wouldn’t give for a fucking first aid kit,” Sheila said.
“We had one, just in case. But the fuckers destroyed that pack when they attacked us,” Malcom said.
“Should I rinse it at least?” I asked.
