Chapter 21

Bowen

The Hand had eyes on Blood Moon. They reported signs of war preparations, but the pack hadn't put their paws to the dirt yet.

They were strategizing and gathering necessities for the march from their territory to ours. The Hand estimated it would be at least two weeks until they reached Hidden Creek.

That gave us time to prepare.

Alpha Wynn assured the pack that our lives would continue as usual despite some changes—like the mandatory training.

It was a comfort—not to mention a message to the outside world that nothing could shake us.

As such, the pack decided to proceed with the Winter’s End Festival. It marked our transition into spring and symbolized the survival of another winter.

All the pack shops closed for the day, and everyone met in the open field on the west side of our territory.

Long benches laden with food sat on one side of the clearing, next to a dining area with picnic tables. The other side had a huge bonfire and space to talk and dance.

Packmates chatted animatedly, determined to enjoy every second of peace.

We walked into the field, and the pack greeted us warmly. Myla made a beeline for a group of elders, and they lit up when she reached them—even crabby old Mr. Devero offered her a polite nod.

Gentry headed for the drink table, and Theron conversed with Brielle.

I glanced toward the food and saw Enforcers crowding the dessert table.

“It’s about time you got here,” Leighton said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “The boys are determined to eat their weight in cake.”

“Tell me you saved me a slice of cheesecake,” I said with a groan.

Vultures, all of them.

He pulled a plate from behind his back with a knowing grin.

“This still doesn’t mean you’re my favorite,” I said as I reached for it.

“Bullshit.” He flashed me his winning smile.

Leighton had been in my squad for a year and quickly became one of my favorite officers—not that I’d ever admit it.

Silas nudged Leighton and asked, “Where’s my cake?”

“Sorry, I already risked my fingers diving into that animal pit. Plus, I’m trying to score some brownie points with my squad leader,” he said shamelessly.

Every pack ran their Enforcer units as they saw fit. Alpha Wynn and Alaric valued the chain of command. It kept a tight order among the Enforcers and allowed everyone to feel responsible for each other’s successes or failures, making us a well-oiled machine when it came to battle. At the top was Alaric, our Head Enforcer and commander. Just below him were our two lieutenants, Valor and Silas, to whom the four squad leaders—Ivan, Calder, Jagger, and me—reported. The other Enforcers were officers divided into each of the squads.

Each lieutenant was responsible for two squad leaders and the Enforcers under them. I was directly under Silas.

“You don’t want any brownie points with your lieutenant?” Silas asked in mock offense.

“Why bark up a tree that bears no fruit?” he joked.

Everyone knew Silas was the least likely to play favorites.

I shoved Leighton playfully. “Hey, what are you trying to say?”

“That you’re soft,” Silas said with a chuckle.

“Who’s soft?” Shiloh asked, walking toward the group.

Ivan watched her from afar. Leighton noticed and moved closer to Shiloh.

“Is Ivan bothering you?” he asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she replied with a shrug.

Silas studied her. “If he’s getting a little overbearing, let us know.”

“Please, that bear is all fluff.” She raised a brow at Leighton. “I’m starting to think most of you are.”

“Don’t start,” Leighton warned.

She gave him a foxlike smile. “Did you ask them?”

“Ask us what?” I inquired.

“I was getting to that.” Leighton faced me and Silas. “I wanted to put in a request to go with Shiloh to retrieve the other witches. If I get your approval, it will smooth things over with Alaric and Wynn.”

I looked between the two of them. “You know I have to ask. Why should we send you? Technically, this would be a mission for one of the Hand.”

“I’m the best fit for this job. I understand the Alpha would readily send Ivan or Jagger, but they don’t know the nuances of witches like I do.”

Shiloh nodded in agreement. “My coven would be more open to Leighton’s presence. At least until they can establish trust with the wolves of this pack.”

Silas exchanged a look with me, one I knew too well.

He was wondering what made Leighton special to the witches—to Shiloh.

And so was I.

“Why?” Silas asked, not one to beat around the bush.

“Tell them, Lei.” Shiloh nudged him with her shoulder. “They’re going to find out anyway.”

My suspicion and curiosity rose.

“Shiloh is my sister,” Leighton said.

What?

“But she’s a witch, and you’re a shifter,” I said dumbly.

Silas had the same confused expression on his face.

“We are. Mixing species isn’t black and white like most people think. Sometimes, the offspring has characteristics of both parents—a perfect hybrid—but that is rare. More often than not, the child is on a spectrum. They either have different levels of combined traits or take after one parent. Leighton came out wolf dominant.”

I looked at them with renewed interest, cataloging their features and trying to find the similarities between them.

“Why did we never hear about this?” Silas asked.

“Our parents didn’t want us to grow up with prejudice. Since Shiloh’s wolf is latent, it was easier for our mother to raise Shiloh in her coven.”

“The same goes for Leighton,” Shiloh added. “Our father knew that if Leighton was going to survive with your old Alpha, he had to lie about his parentage.”

Goddess.

“We need to tell the Alpha, but given the circumstances, I’m sure he’ll see you’re the best fit,” Silas said.

The relief in Leighton’s eyes was apparent.

Shiloh and Leighton excused themselves, leaving me and Silas to think about what we’d learned. I wondered how they’d kept in contact over the years. Leighton’s father was killed for siding against the previous Alpha, and after his death, it had to have been difficult to stay away from the only family Leighton had left.

Myla’s laughter drifted over the dance floor, pulling me from my thoughts.

Mr. Devero spun her in front of several onlookers who looked impressed. I didn’t know how she did it, but he looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time.

I let them finish the song before cutting in and taking Myla in my arms.

Myla laughed. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m always here.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said with a smile.

“It would be pretty disappointing if you didn’t because I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Myla’s warm brown eyes sparkled, her face radiating happiness as we moved across the dance floor. Seeing her so calm and at ease with everyone made my heart soar. I gave in to the moment, enjoying how well we fit together as our bodies swayed.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” she whispered. “And sometimes, it doesn’t feel real. It’s like I’m waiting for something to take it away.”

“Sometimes I feel that way too,” I admitted. “It’s hard to believe our mating isn’t just wishful thinking. But that’s what love is, right? It’s wonderful and terrifying. It feels so complete, but you know you would break if anything happened to the other person. But I wouldn’t have it any other way because it’s worth the risk.”

“Am I worth it?” she asked, searching my face for signs of insincerity.

The world quieted. How could she still believe she wasn’t? Our lives had become better and brighter with her.

My feelings were too strong to put into words, but I settled for the truth.

“Always.”