40. A Temporary Refuge

40

A Temporary Refuge

FLOR

" S ergeant went rogue?"

Alpha Hillier nodded as I repeated his words. Brand and Glen had both stiffened beside me, as shocked as I was. I wanted to say it didn't make sense, but my gut churned as I realized it could be true. He had been a party to the bullshit ranking scheme. He'd been the one to set me and Brand against each other with blades.

Ralen had said that Sergeant had set me up to die, as if it were a fact. Maybe it had been.

Shit.

Alpha Hillier went on. "His hunters returned for the meeting moments ago. They'd been trailing the group that set the bombs here to the east, and turned back when they got the call. He claimed he was going on alone to find them. I called him when he didn't return."

"He didn't answer?"

"He did." The Alpha's brow furrowed even more deeply. "He answered, but told me straight out he was defecting. He said he had a previous allegiance and could no longer serve Northern."

"A previous allegiance?" Brand murmured. "To whom?"

"That is a question for the Council," Margarette said. "But not for you three, and not for now. We have a pack-wide meeting to run."

Brand opened the trunk of the car while Glen and his dad shook hands, then hugged—slapping each other's backs hard enough to break a few ribs, it looked like. When I heard Alpha Hillier murmur, "I'm so proud of you. Never forget that, son. Someday I hope to make you half as proud of me," I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

Brand and Margarette hugged, and she whispered something in his ear that made him grin and blush over his dark beard, before he closed the trunk and went to open my door, waiting patiently.

Then it was my turn.

Margarette sniffled, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Are you sure you won't stay, Flor?"

"You know I can't. I have a lake to see at Mountain… and then, I need to go back to Southern."

She smiled and hugged me again, then pulled back and cupped my cheeks in her warm hands.My eyes burned as she kissed my forehead, whispering, "Come back to us whenever you can, my dearest daughter-to-be. These packlands will always be open to you and your mates, no matter what pack law says. Even if it means going to war with the Council, we are your allies. Your family. If you ever need us, send word."

Alpha Hillier stepped up to her side as she let me go, and finished for her. "Send word, and we will answer in force."

The car was now quiet, Glen in the back and Brand driving, the atmosphere somber and tense. I reached a hand over one shoulder, and Glen took it and squeezed, his grip too tight. I understood. He was leaving his comfortable home for an uncertain future.

I wasn't sure I would have had the courage he did. When I'd left Southern, I'd been glad to go. The only difficult part had been walking away from Luke. But Glen was beloved at Northern. And now, he would be rejected by every pack, if the Council wouldn't change their law.

It could mean a lifetime of living on the run. Of having no rank, no homeland. No pack.

Did I have a pack? I had thought I'd left Southern in the rearview, that I could start a new life. But if the rest of the packs found out who I was, they might force me to go back and stay.

I might have to do that anyway. I had loved Luke from my first memories, even if he had only been a childhood crush. I couldn't let him die.

I thought of Alpha Callaway, and wondered where he'd gone. He wasn't dead. Cockroaches like him were almost impossible to kill. He'd be back as soon as the lights were off, so he could scuttle around, spoiling everything he touched until he had enough power to take over again.

There wasn't a single shifter alive who deserved to die more than him. At Northern, I'd learned about pack laws and traditions, and realized just how many laws he'd bent or broken. What was worse, he'd figured out a way to break the most stringent one of all: not to use magic. I rubbed my chest, feeling the lines of the scar there. I had a feeling he'd used it on me, somehow.

Grigor's face flitted through my mind, and as I stared out the window, I thought for a moment I saw him there, a black wolf with glowing eyes, running alongside the car, just under the canopy of the forest.

"Is that—" Glen muttered, then fell silent. His breathing was ragged, and I leaned over and gave Brand a peck on the cheek, then unbuckled and crawled over the seat.

"Flor?" Glen asked.

I didn't speak, only curled up on his lap and let him hold me, let his wolf feel mine near, until we both fell asleep as Brand drove us to his pack.

To another place that I knew, deep down, would only be a temporary refuge from the storm that was coming.