14. Shay

FOURTEEN

Shay

T he next morning found us hastily shoving clothes and toiletries into our smallest suitcases for the road. I peered at my favorite black sneakers with dismay, unwilling to pack them when the silver buckles were coated in blood from my injury, the stale copper tang making my stomach churn.

Leigh walked by and plucked them out of my hands. "I'll get someone to clean them for you while we're gone. You know Grace can find someone who won't mind lending a hand, given everything that went down. Just pack your blue ones." She pointed to my second-favorite pair, tucked in a corner of the room and forgotten.

With a nod, I tossed them into the bag. Leigh always seemed to know when I was hung up on something. She was going to make an excellent mother one day. The thought gave me pause, and I looked at her a little more closely with my hand still on the suitcase zipper.

She was bustling around the room, tossing things helter-skelter into her own yawning suitcase. But things started to coalesce into a pattern as I thought over the last few days.

She was on edge, her wolf close to the surface. She was overprotective of both me and Brielle, which wasn't unusual in small doses, but this was a whole 'nother level of protectiveness. She'd been fighting with Gael like shifters and vamps, yet she'd spent a hot night with the man instead of lighting his shorts on fire. But with no heat, it couldn't be. Shifter pregnancies were rare under the absolute best of circumstances, but a random one-night hookup leading to a pup would be almost unheard of.

Although, just before the wedding, she'd been burning up hot. Could she be pregnant? Without a mate bond?

Surely I was reading too much into it. I shook my head, clearing the ludicrous thought and zipping up the bag.

Leigh tossed a sparkly minidress and a pair of ridiculously high black heels on top of her mountain of clothing before sitting on the case to zip it.

"I don't think you're going to need those, Leigh. They said it's really rural where we're heading. The pack lives close to the land, and the shaman especially spends most of his time in isolation, communing with nature. That's why they told us to wear hiking boots." I pointed to my leather-clad foot, but she ignored me, the sounds of a zipper wrenching under her supernatural strength preceding her crow of triumph.

"Got it! Let's go. Come on, Cujo." She clucked her tongue to Dirge, who gave me the most long-suffering look I'd ever seen on a wolf's face.

"I know, she's impossible. But I love her, sorry." I scratched him under the chin before hauling my suitcase off the bed. At least it was light, though I had plenty of energy since my wound had healed. I clammed up as we walked through the halls, wolves from Pack Blackwater milling in and out of the dorms, some cleaning, others moving furniture in the wake of the mass exodus of all the other packs.

I still wasn't comfortable around strangers—particularly men—and might not ever be. Maybe the silver lining of meeting my mate while he was stuck in fur was that I wasn't self-conscious talking to him.

To my surprise, when we walked out of the dorm, there was a six-seater UTV waiting, with a rack on the back for our luggage.

"Aren't we going to an airstrip?" I murmured to Leigh, confused.

"Yeah, on the pack grounds. Small plane, hence the luggage limits." She huffed as she hefted her suitcase and flipped it onto the rack. I picked mine up and placed it next to hers, looking at Dirge, then the utility vehicle, and back again. I hadn't thought the logistics of all this through.

"Can you run alongside, or do you want to try to get into a seat?" I asked, as if he could answer me. Though in his own way, he did. When I pointed to a seat, he sat next to it, waiting for me to get in. Once I was in, he continued waiting, standing at attention as pack members passed by, talking and laughing.

Okay, run alongside it was.

The airstrip was small but tidy. To my surprise, it was paved, with equally spaced lights tracing either side of it for safe night landings and a fairly large hangar off to the side at one end for storing the pack's small planes. One was already waiting on the tarmac for our trip. Or so Reed told us when we arrived, and he offered us champagne while we waited for Kane and Brielle. Leigh declined for us both.

Sometimes, I forgot that Reed was richer than Solomon and owned dozens of fancy restaurants, but when he was casually drinking fancy French champagne before 10:00 a.m. and wearing an expensive suit while the rest of us wore sweats and tees, I remembered.

"Hey, brother," he said to Dirge. He was clearly aiming for casual but missed the mark. His jaw ticked with tension in the silence that followed his greeting. When he sighed in defeat, I decided to speak up despite my anxiety. Reed had gotten a little closer to "safe" in my circle, even if he wasn't all the way there yet.

"He can't talk back to you, but it doesn't mean he can't communicate at all. If you ask simple questions, he can nod yes and shake his head no."

"Right. You're right, he did that in the cell on the video." Reed rubbed his jaw, even though there was no trace of stubble to be found there.

"Are you looking forward to the flight?" he tried again, then laughed. "This is stupid."

But I was watching Dirge, who dipped his muzzle once to answer. "See? He said yes." I scratched him behind the ear, and he leaned tightly into my leg. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. We were making progress, little by little.

"Yeah, I guess he did." Reed tipped up his champagne glass and drained it, leaving Dirge and me while he went to pour another, all the way to the rim.

It was my turn to sigh at that.

The sounds of another UTV approaching brought us all to the door of the hangar, where Brielle, Kane, and Gael were getting their luggage unloaded.

"Morning," Kane called, lifting a hand in greeting. A man in a pilot's uniform appeared from somewhere, coming to shake Kane's hand and brief him on the flight plan. After a quick exchange of hugs with Bri, we were ready to board.

"Does he have to come on every trip?" Leigh muttered as we climbed the short staircase that led into the aircraft, staring death daggers at Gael, who was studiously ignoring us, his back turned and his arms crossed a few feet away.

"I imagine he's here to support and protect Kane, much like we are Bri," I answered quietly .

"I know, I know," she groused, sliding into a plush leather seat at the back. The plane was the smallest I'd ever been in, just single seats on either side of a small middle aisle. It appeared that we were maxing it out, with only one empty seat after everyone was accounted for. Dirge had followed me up the stairs, but there was no good place for a three-hundred-pound wolf except the aisle, so that was where he sat, right between me and Leigh. Bri settled on the row in front of us so she'd have a seat for Kane.

"Can you tell us anything about the man we're going to meet? He's Athabascan, correct?" I asked, nerves over visiting an unfamiliar culture hitting me. I didn't always do well in my own culture. The last thing I wanted to do was flub up in front of people we needed help from or offend someone with my silence.

"Yes, Kane filled me in over breakfast."

"Breakfast. We definitely should have had some, Shay," Leigh grumbled, closing her eyes and leaning against the small window next to her seat.

Bri ignored her in favor of answering my question. "He's a shaman from a long line of healers. He's nearly thirteen hundred years old and struggles with mobility at this point, which is why he didn't attend the great pack gathering himself. That, and they didn't have many singles. But his name is Inuksuk, and the invitation we've received is very rare. Their pack is small, about forty members, and keeps out of wider shifter politics. Everyone speaks English, but their traditional language is Dena'ina, and Kane taught me a few phrases. Yaghali du is the traditional greeting. And in response, you say, aa'yaghali ."

"Aa-ya-gha-li," I tried, without any of the smoothness Brielle had picked up in a morning.

She grinned at my attempt. "Aa'yaghali."

"Aa'yaghali ?" I tried again .

"Much better! We may not be perfect, but it's always good to try."

I nodded, casting a nervous look at Dirge. Maybe I should try again to shift and just offend no one as a wolf.

But that would be cowardly. So, I spent the preflight repeating the word in my head over and over again, with hopes of cementing it in my brain correctly.

Leigh kept her eyes stubbornly closed as the men climbed aboard, and I had to try hard not to chuckle at Gael's pointed efforts to ignore us. He sat in the front row and stared straight ahead, speaking to no one but Reed and Kane. They were a hell of a pair.

Kane made his way down the aisle to drop a kiss on Brielle's waiting lips before settling into the seat in front of Leigh. He nodded to me and, to my surprise, Dirge as well. Leigh, he just grinned at before turning back around.

The plane started rolling a few moments after the door was shut, and I cast a worried glance at Leigh. Her face went pale—she really hated flying—but she stayed quiet and kept her eyes screwed shut.

Just in case she needed it, I ruffled through the seat back pocket and found an airsickness bag. Somehow, I suspected my poor attempts at speaking Dena'ina wouldn't make up for arriving covered in puke.

Our flight touched down less than an hour later and was thankfully sickness-free. As soon as the door opened, though, Leigh was on her feet, stepping around Dirge and bolting for the front. She nearly bowled Gael over, who'd clearly had the same idea of bolting first. They both froze, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, until Leigh dodged him and hurried down the stairs without a word .

The sound of retching hit us thirty seconds later, and I winced.

So much for arriving puke-free.

"Oh no, let me go see if I can do anything for her." Brielle hurried forward, past the still-hesitating Gael, and out of the plane.

Kane turned to me. "Does she always get airsick?"

"When she's not drunk, yes."

He grunted in response. "I'm sure Brielle has a tea or something that can help for the flight back." He paused. "How are you and your new mate doing?"

There was real concern in his question, and I was as surprised as I was touched. But I didn't really know what to say.

"We're okay, I guess. He still hasn't shifted, so it's hard to get to know him. He won't leave my side, though. I hope that doesn't cause a problem when we meet Inuksuk and his pack."

Kane didn't look as worried as I felt. "I'm sure he'll behave himself. He's done fine so far, and as long as everyone remains respectful"—at that, he cast a pointed look toward Gael—"I don't see why there would be a problem."

I nodded, but the knot of nerves in my belly didn't ease. It probably wouldn't until we'd met the shaman and heard what he had to say. I really hoped he could help Bri. She hated her weaknesses, and while we loved her anyway, I knew how it felt to be the one who was always other , who didn't fit. If she was able to change that, well, I wanted it for her.

Resolved, I stood.

"Ready to go?" I asked Dirge, who jumped to his feet, tail wagging. "Well, at least one of us is excited. Stay with me, okay?"