8. Brielle

"You sure you're up for this, city girl?" Orion's gravelly voice teased from behind me.

I huffed out a breath, trying to mask how winded I was getting from the steep incline. "I'll have you know, I took spin classes three times a week."

He chuckled, the rich sound echoing off the towering pines surrounding us. "This ain't no stationary bike, sweetheart."

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I pushed on, determined not to let him see me falter. The trail had grown narrower, the woods closing in around us until all I could see were trees and rocks and the occasional burst of wildflowers clinging to the side of the mountain.

It was eerily quiet, save for the soft thumps of our boots and the whisper of wind through the branches overhead. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder, afraid of what I might see lurking in the shadowed forest.

"Relax," Orion murmured, as if sensing my unease. "You're safe with me."

His sure conviction settled my nerves, though a tiny kernel of doubt remained. How could I be safe with someone—some thing—I barely knew? Cass with her love for horror movies was better suited for a world of myth and legend. I'd ducked under the covers and covered my ears when she picked The Wolf Man for movie night in our preteens.

But when I stole a glance at the rugged man beside me, all I saw was Orion. The same crooked grin and twinkling green eyes that had drawn me in from the start. The same hands that had brought me to the heights of ecstasy, cradling me with a tenderness that belied his wild nature.

As if he could read the direction of my thoughts, he reached out and squeezed my hand, the calloused pads of his fingers rough against my skin. The contact sparked a jolt of electricity low in my belly, and I swallowed hard.

"You know," he began, his tone conversational, "most folks in Mill Creek are scared shitless of what's out here."

I arched a brow at that. "You mean your pack?"

He shot me a roguish smile. "Among other things."

A shiver raced down my spine, though from fear or something else entirely, I couldn't say. "Why show me, then? If it's so secret?"

Orion's expression softened, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me forget to breathe. "Because you're mine, Brielle. My mate. Which means this..." He waved a hand at the trees surrounding us. "This is your world now, too."

The weight of his words pressed down on me, the implications staggering. Could I really be part of this? This hidden, supernatural society lurking in the shadows?

Did I even have a choice?

Not the way Orion talked. Fate ruled this domain. Fighting it would just make the surrender that much sweeter, he'd said with a filthy growl in my ear.

Orion cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip. Then he gave me a wink and raised his voice. "And if anyone objects, they can fuck right off!"

A snorted huff answered somewhere deep in the trees. I jerked around, trying to find the source of the noise. Warm hands on my shoulders spun me back around.

"Pack patrols," he explained with a shrug.

Heat flooded my cheeks, embarrassment tightening my throat. Of course there would be other shifters out here. This was their territory, after all. I should have realized that, but the reality of Orion's world still felt like a fever dream I couldn't quite grasp.

I lifted my chin, determined not to let my naivety show. "Patrols, huh? What exactly are they looking for out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Orion's lips quirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, you know. Gotta keep those pesky humans from stumbling where they don't belong."

I rolled my eyes, shoving at his chest. "Very funny."

He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that sent shivers racing down my spine. "In all seriousness, it's about protecting our land. Our way of life." A furrow appeared between his brows, and he focused somewhere above my head. "There's a long history of bad blood between humans and shifters. Dusk Valley—I—haven't been the most welcoming when threatened."

I thought of the men who'd come looking for my father, the cold calculation in their eyes. A chill skated down my back. "I'm starting to get that."

Orion's jaw tightened, his expression growing uncharacteristically serious. "My pack, we're not like the Hollow wolves. We're not as..." He paused, seeming to search for the right word. "Civilized."

I frowned, a tendril of unease curling in my gut. "What do you mean?"

"Spend enough time around here and you'll hear the rumors. Hikers disappearing. People passing through never to be seen again." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Humans have never been allowed in Dusk Valley territory. Not ever."

My breath caught, horror and disbelief warring inside me. "Are they... are they killed?"

Orion's gaze met mine, unflinching. "Only the ones set on harming us." He broke into a savage grin. "You'd be amazed how fast you two-legs can run when something snarls in the night."

I didn't need to work hard to imagine. Deep instincts baked over many, many generations kept me on my toes out in nature. Knowing unseen eyes watched and hunted fed into those very human fears.

But blame? A fear of Orion or his pack in particular? That idea was harder to entertain. They were hunted like animals by people like my father. Anyone with sense would call it self-defense.

Civilized would be never pointing the gun in the first place.

"And now?" I asked. "Do I need to grow eyes on the back of my head?"

"You're here, you're mine, and they'll have to deal with that." He raised his voice again. "Unless they want to lose the best enforcer in the state!"

I could only describe the answering noise as pure, offended canine.

I shook my head with a soft laugh. Ridiculous, brash man.

But there was no hint of doubt, no hesitation on his face. Only a fierce determination and loyalty that stole my breath.

He fit his world perfectly, and he wanted me at his side.

"What exactly does an enforcer do?" I asked.

Orion pressed a hand to the small of my back, and we began hiking away from the hidden patrol. "Packs are very structured. We have an alpha, he has his second-in-command. Then come the enforcers. We're like the police force of a pack. The alpha's word is law, and we see it carried out."

He vaulted over a fallen log with a grace that didn't quite match his muscled bulk. When he turned and offered me a hand, his expression had grown somber. "I had to do some shit I'm not exactly proud of under our old alpha. He fed us lies to justify spilling blood, and came down hard on anyone who asked questions."

"Oldalpha?" I was surprised my voice didn't crack as I slid my hand into his much larger one. His thumb brushed over the pulse in my wrist, sending a shivering through my frame.

"Alpha roles tend to change hands on death. It's rare for one to just walk away. Plus, there's the issue of the new boss not wanting the old boss looking over their shoulder or whispering about how they'd do things."

I scrambled over the log with his steadying help. "Is that what happened to the old one?"

Orion ran a hand over the back of his head and grimaced. "Marcus had us ready for war with Crescent Hollow. He blamed them for the death of our old second, got Daniel's daughter pumped up on the lies and sent her to spy, then tried to kill her when she came back with more questions than proof. When it came out that he did the killing, the pack split. We didn't allow him to walk away."

The hard set to his jaw clashed with the anguish in his eyes. I heard his ruthless words, but I felt the mismatch in his soul. Was it so different, really, from my father? Dad was Dad. Flawed, obviously. Hiding important parts of himself, flinging hurt around as casually as he changed clothes.

But still my father. Still someone who occasionally had a kind word. Still a murderer I wouldn't want in my life.

I reached out and laced my fingers with Orion's. Who squeezed first, I couldn't say. I just knew we held hands like we were each other's lifelines.

"Rafe's a new alpha, and I think he'd be happier if he'd stayed as second. He's trying, but it's slow going. Life and death levels of distrust don't disappear overnight." Orion shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "And after Fiona, he's had more on his mind than hanging out a welcome sign."

I nodded, my heart aching for him, and for his pack. For the weight of responsibility he carried on his broad shoulders. "I can't imagine how difficult that must be."

Orion's lips twitched in a humorless smile. "It's a fucking mess, if I'm being honest. But it's my mess. My pack. My family."

The word hung between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. If we were truly mates, as he claimed, then his pack would become my family too. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through me.

Desperation drove me to Crescent Hollow, but I'd found a warm welcome at odds with my previous years of easy-breezy aloofness disguised under the best instant gratification money could buy. The messy complications and new truths weren't ideal in any sense of the word, but they offered a chance to figure out who I truly could be on my own terms.

I exhaled a soft breath as a fresh realization settled over me.

"You know, I think you could call my family a pack." I exhaled sharply and tucked stray hair behind my ears. "My dad would be the alpha, and just as terrible as your old leader from what you've told me. Brittany took his word as law, and Brooke saw her plans carried out."

Brittany's face flashed in my mind with her arrogant smirk. Brooke followed, blistering ears with the venom she loved to spit. Shame washed over me in a sickening wave. How many times had we targeted poor Cassidy after some rant from Dad about undeserving leeches in the family?

"I should have done more. Asked those questions. Refused to be a bitch." My voice cracked on the last word, the weight of my regrets pressing down. "I should have been brave about being on my own instead of trying to fit in."

Orion reached out, cupping my cheek with his calloused palm. "You're not on your own," he murmured, his thumb brushing my skin. "You just needed to find the right pack."

I leaned into his hand, letting the simple comfort soothe the ache inside me. This man—this wolf—saw past my defenses to the lost girl beneath. The one who'd been overshadowed and overlooked for far too long, and just needed a chance for healthy growth away from the poison she'd been soaked in her entire life.

With Orion, I truly felt I could do and be good.

* * *

I awoke latethe next morning with my muscles deliciously sore and a permanent smile etched onto my face. Even the drive into Mill Creek and the long hours spent at Briar House cataloging dusty antiques couldn't kill my happiness. I hummed softly to myself as I worked, my entire being suffused with a warmth and lightness that honestly reminded me of Cassidy.

She'd never had much, but she was always ready with a smile and kind word. And after she married—mated—Max, she glowed. The weight of the world couldn't hold her down when she had someone holding out a hand and helping her back to her feet.

That sense of peace, of rightness, was addictive. Like coming up for air after being underwater for far too long. I should have felt overwhelmed by the massive upheaval my life had taken, but the shit thoughts that had dogged me for months had fallen blessedly silent.

For the first time in forever, I felt whole. Complete in a way the money and connections and endless string of boyfriends had never managed to achieve.

A sharp knock at the front door jerked me out of contentment and back to the real world with its real monsters.

I set aside the vase I'd been examining and reached for my phone, thumb hovering over the call button with Orion's number queued up. After my last encounter with one of Dad's associates, I wasn't taking any chances with unexpected visitors.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I swung the door open.

My carefully constructed sense of peace crumbled the moment I saw who stood on the other side.

There, framed by the dying summer sunlight, stood my father.

Barrett Simmons looked as impeccable as ever in his bespoke suit and silk tie, not a single silver hair out of place. His expression, however, was thunderous. The harsh lines framing his mouth and the tightness around his eyes spoke of a simmering rage barely contained.

"Brielle," he bit out, his tone clipped. "I need you to come with me."

The pistol he pointed at my middle allowed no argument.