Chapter 13

Brielle

The scents of my mates eased me out of sleep even as guilt threatened to strangle me. Seven days. That was how long we had spent in our den. Now, my heat was over, and all my previous worries returned.

We were bonded. How would I ever escape and find Blythe?

My wolf yawned contentedly, uninterested in my warring emotions. We were with our mates, and nothing else mattered to her. She believed the rest would fall into place, but I wasn't so sure.

I slid out of bed, padded to the bathroom, and found a brand-new toothbrush on the counter.

They are thoughtful. I'll give them that.

Our mates want us to be happy. If we told them about Blythe, they would help us, my wolf said.

They want a mate, not family issues.

They want to make us happy. If finding our sister will do so, they'll do it, she argued.

I doubted they would take too kindly to the group of rebels my father was planning to deliver me and Blythe to when the Council captured me.

Oh, sure, I'll just walk up to them and say, "Hey, guys. I know this is just the beginning of our mating and all, but I have a sister hiding with a group of rebels." That would go over really well.

"Brielle, I forgot to mention—"

Startled, I turned toward Ezra and dropped my toothbrush in the sink. I fumbled to pick it up.

"Um, yes?" I said, blushing as I faced him.

I clutched the fallen toothbrush, fighting a wave of embarrassment.

Ezra stared at me, his face impassive apart from one arching eyebrow.

The seconds between us stretched, and I wished the ground would swallow me whole. At the very least, I wanted time to rewind itself so I could sense him coming. I must have looked like a skittish deer.

The minutes seemed to go on forever. We were trapped in the uncertainty of how to proceed, and I felt my cheeks flame.

Finally, mercifully, he cleared his throat. "I just wanted to let you know that Isolde, the Alpha unit's mate, would like to meet with you today to welcome you into the pack."

I was guessing I didn't have a choice in the matter. "Right, sure. When does she want to meet?"

He glanced at his watch. "She should be here in half an hour."

I buried my alarm before it could show on my face. At least I would get a better sense of the pack.

"I'll be ready in twenty."

He started to walk away but paused and turned on his heel. "Oh, some of the females in the pack dropped off some clothing for you to wear today. When you're out with Isolde, she'll take you to get more. Grab whatever you need, and one of us will settle the tab later."

I noticed Ezra's clothing for the first time. Everything was neat, polished, and perfectly tailored to his large frame. I thought about my meager wardrobe, and self-consciousness reared its ugly head. I'd never had a reason to dress up. Omegas were given standard-issue dresses. Everyone received one dress for cleaning, two for daytime wear, and one night dress. And the clothing I had worn when my father was alive had been practical and suited for camouflage.

What if this was the standard?

Would I be expected to uphold the image they had for me?

I forced a smile. "I won't need much, but thank you."

He held my gaze for a long moment. Finally, he gave me a sharp nod and left me to my morning routine.

Inadequacy tied my stomach in knots, but I stood tall.

There was no one I needed to impress. They'd been kind, but it didn't change the fact that I had to leave.

I couldn't abandon Blythe.

And the one thing I knew about shifter males, was that they didn't give up their fated mates. There was no way they'd let me leave pack land to find her.

I had to make sure I was using every opportunity to map out the grounds and figure out how to get away from my skilled mates.

Their abilities threw a wrench in my plans. I had no idea why the Goddess thought it was a good idea to bind my life to three unusually adept males.

Escaping would be difficult.

But nothing was impossible. I simply had to gather intel and outthink them.

After I brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face, and pulled on a pair of leggings and a sweater, I walked downstairs and found Ezra at the dining table with coffee and a tablet of some sort.

Complex lines of code filled the screen, and I nearly went cross-eyed at the mere thought of what it meant.

Noticing it was just Ezra and I in the house, I asked, "Where are Valor and Korren?"

"At work. I'll work from home for a few days since my position isn't location-specific. Plus, we wanted one of us to be nearby while you settled in." He stood and walked to the counter, nodding toward the table. "How do you like your coffee?"

I took a seat. "Anything other than black. I can't handle all that bitterness in the morning."

"Is there another time of day you can handle it?" His neutral tone held a teasing note.

For such a stoic man, he'd been quite playful with me. I hated that it put me at ease—that I liked it.

"Any decent being knows black coffee is for when you're at the end of your rope and have to stay awake for a few more hours."

"I always knew I was less than decent." He added cream and sugar to my mug and placed it in front of me.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his hard chest. Even relaxed, his presence dominated the space.

I nodded my thanks and tried to stop my foot from bouncing with nerves as we waited for Isolde to arrive.

Had they been telling me the truth about their pack? Or was there more to Hidden Creek than my mates wanted me to believe?

My father's voice wafted through my mind. Possibilities are a double-edged sword.

"Nervous?" Ezra asked.

Yes. This excursion could be the difference between putting a blade in my budding feelings or letting them blossom. But I couldn't tell him that. "I'll be okay. I don't meet new people often, that's all."

"Sorry to say, but you'll be doing a lot of that over the next few days. If you don't want to, let me know."

"I want to," I said hurriedly, unwilling to lose my chance to get the lay of the land. "I've been by myself for a while, so I'm wondering if they'll like me."

"They will. And Iso—"

A knock on the door interrupted Ezra, and he went to answer it.

"Isolde," Ezra greeted. "Brielle is ready for you."

"Wonderful. Honestly, I almost wish she'd take longer. It would give me an excuse to use my newfound independence. My mates seem to think hovering is a hobby."

Erza's large frame completely blocked the female from view as they entered the kitchen. When he stepped aside, a petite, dark-haired female with glowing blue eyes stared back at me.

Her eyes widened with recognition. "You . . . you're Brielle?"

It was the girl from the last Hunt.

I'd seen many girls over the years, but this one stood out. There was a fire in her—a desire to do more than survive.

It was why I broke one of my cardinal rules and told her about the rebels and the path. She had wanted to be free and would fight for the cause.

"I am." I noticed her rounded abdomen and the subtle signs of happiness in her relaxed shoulders and smiling mouth. "I'm pleased everything worked out for you."

"It did." She placed a hand over her stomach.

Ezra looked from her to me. "You guys know each other?"

"We met briefly during the Hunt," I said.

For a moment, I worried she'd already told her mates about the carved doves, the doves that marked the escape route for Omegas to find sanctuary, but as Isolde's blue eyes met mine, a silent understanding passed between us.

It was still our secret.

The knowledge should have calmed me and given me hope. Instead, it left me wondering why she hadn't disclosed the information to her mates. Didn't she trust them?

Stepping forward, she took my hand and said, "Come on, I have so much to show you."

***

Isolde wasn't exaggerating when she said there was a lot to show me. Hidden Creek's territory was something out of a dream. Rolling hills, meadows, glades, and open forests blended seamlessly into the wilderness beyond pack lands. The pack itself was structured like a small town. Pack members lived in homes on the outer edges of the community, while shops, cafes, and restaurants occupied the center. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen.

Isolde told me they were eighty percent self-sufficient, and the Alpha's goal was to have everything made on pack lands as they expanded.

Hidden Creek was in the process of rebuilding. Isolde told me about the previous Alpha's abuse of Omegas. He was the reason the pack was unsanctioned for years. The absence of Omegas meant no pups were born for two decades, putting the pack in a dangerous position.

Alpha Wynn and his trusted Enforcers revived the pack after a dark battle that rid the territory of all the wolves who supported his father. He wanted to make Hidden Creek what a pack should be: a family, a haven.

My mind reeled with the new information. Since the inception of the Council, all packs worked on a Council-controlled distribution network. The Council owned the rights to all farmlands, textile factories, and mines, leaving the packs to choose stripped territories. This ensured that necessary commodities such as grain, textiles, metal, and tech were under the Council's thumb, and if the packs wanted access, they needed to maintain their sanctioned status.

If Hidden Creek managed to become self-sufficient, the Council would lose its hold here.

The pack could be free of them.

Hope slammed into my chest. I had so many questions. How did they revive the land? How did the textile cultivation begin? How did they manage to hide these developments from the Council?

My mates were right—this pack was different. The thought thumped through me like a heartbeat, and pieces of the wall I'd built between us began to crumble.

This wasn't a short-sighted decision to stand up against the Council. This was something the Alpha had been planning for years.

But where did the Omegas fit into all of this?

My thoughts were interrupted as a new pack member approached. A willowy, graceful, strawberry-blonde Beta cast a bright smile our way.

"Helen," Isolde said, squeezing the woman's shoulders.

Helen fondly rubbed Isolde's stomach. "Sol. How is our little guy feeling today?"

"He's a ball of energy," Isolde replied, motioning for me to stand beside her. "This is Brielle. Brielle, this is Helen. She's the best seamstress in the pack."

Helen blushed at the compliment. "I am the only seamstress in the pack, but my new apprentice is promising. Good thing, too. I can't remember the last time I had the day off."

"You make clothes for everyone by yourself? How do you manage?" I asked.

"It wasn't always just me. One of the Elders, Geneve, retired a couple of years ago, and I've been holding down the fort ever since."

"I'm impressed. I can't even sew up a small tear."

She looped an arm through mine and Isolde's. "Lucky for you, you don't have to."

Helen guided us to a yellow shop. Rows of colorful fabric were displayed in the front windows.

"Did Ezra tell you to get me clothes?" I asked, remembering our earlier conversation.

"Ezra?" Helen scrunched her nose in amusement. "Korren may have sent a message letting me know you needed my services."

I tried to stop my face from falling. Him too?

Did my mates think I needed a makeover or something?

"Don't let yourself go there," Isolde chastised as if she could read my mind.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You know what," Isolde replied. "Your mates couldn't care less about what you wear. They want you to be comfortable."

"She's right," Helen chirped, ushering us into the shop. "They also want to provide. Stroke their ego a bit and let them."

I smirked as I looked around at the fabrics, buttons, and appliques. Maybe I could give them this and allow them to take care of me.

"Let's go for it," I said.

***

I didn't want to admit it, but the afternoon was amazing. The pack members were friendly, and the shops had lots of fun items in them. Isolde had helped me purchase a few outfits and order some custom-made dresses from Helen's shop. The Beta female was funny and bright. After a few minutes, it felt like we were long-lost friends. I hadn't laughed that much since before Blythe and I were separated.

I think she would like it here, my wolf said.

Her words were a punch to the solar plexus. Would she? Was that something worth considering?

Maybe, I replied.

The day—the pack—was nothing like I had expected.

The sun warmed my skin as Isolde and I walked through the center of the village toward the food center.

I wondered what it took to manage a place like this. What was it like to be responsible for the happiness of so many and actually fulfill that responsibility?

We stopped at a bakery called Cynful Sweets.

"I'm telling you, Cynthia makes the best apple strudel you'll ever eat," Isolde said, patting her belly.

Wind chimes sang as we passed through the front door. The smell of sugar, butter, and cinnamon wafted around us. The walls were white shiplap with mint accents, and pastel decorations adorned a display case filled with delicious-looking confections.

"Is that our newest resident?" a sweet voice asked.

An Alpha female with dark hair and big brown eyes rounded the counter.

"You bet," Isolde replied. "I wasn't going to take her around town without stopping at my favorite bakery. Cynthia, this is Brielle."

"Nice to meet you." She extended her hand toward me but pulled it away and bashfully wiped it on her apron. "Sorry about that. I'm a bit sugary from the cookie batter."

I smiled. "No worries. The smell is making me hungry, though."

"That's my favorite thing to hear. Why don't you ladies grab a table, and I'll put together a sample plate for you?" Cynthia asked.

"Goddess, you're an angel," Isolde said.

"I have ulterior motives. I'm trying to be the favorite auntie." Cynthia laughed as she headed toward the kitchen.

We chose a table outside beneath a cluster of shady trees. Cynthia came out five minutes later with a large tray of donuts, muffins, cakes, cookies, tarts, and strudels. Near the back was a pot of tea and two cups.

"This looks amazing," I said, my mouth already watering.

"I had to give you a reason to come back." Cynthia placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Welcome to the pack, Brielle. Enjoy your snack."

I cleared my throat as emotions I couldn't identify swelled within me.

Isolde smiled knowingly. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"What is?" I asked.

"To feel like you're wanted."

It was. But the words I wanted to say died on my tongue. I was overwhelmed by the realization that I hadn't once felt the need to guard myself. Instead of telling Isolde how I felt, I gave her a noncommittal smile and reached for a tart.

"So, how are you liking the tour so far?" Isolde asked over her cup of hot tea.

I chewed a large bite of my apple strudel and said, "Everything is great. Honestly, I'm still trying to make sense of it all."

A curious twinkle lit her eyes. "Is it not what you expected?"

"A world apart," I admitted.

It was almost jarring how normal everything was. Everyone seemed so free.

"I know," she agreed. "When I first arrived, I couldn't believe it either. It's nothing like I thought."

"Me too. And after spending nine months in the facility, it almost feels too good to be true." My fingers curled around the mug as if it would float away.

Her brows furrowed. "They kept you in the facility?"

"Of course. Where else would they put me?"

"Well, you beat the other Hunts," Isolde said tentatively. "I assumed you'd be in a home somewhere until the next one."

Um, what?

"Why would I be in a home? How would I even afford one?" I asked, confusion settling over me.

What was Isolde talking about? Her question was laughable. There was no freedom for us; we were prisoners until we became someone else's problem.

She gave me a befuddled look. "But you . . . you made it to the end. And there are three months between each Hunt."

"I did, and there is. What does that have to do with anything?"

Her concern sent a chill down my spine. I was missing something.

Uncertain, Isolde spoke carefully. "So, they kept you in those cells? And you were, what, just held until the next Hunt?"

I took a deep breath, muting the storm of my emotions. Those endless days and nights in the facility were some of the longest of my life. "That's pretty accurate."

Isolde's eyes shone with understanding. She discreetly slid her chair closer.

"That violates the rules of the Hunt." Isolde's voice gentled as if she were afraid for me to react badly. "Sanctioned packs are informed that participation is voluntary after the first initial Hunt." She used her fork to play with the crumbs on her plate.

Shit. The Council was lying about the rules.

As if she could read my thoughts, she nodded.

"Why haven't you told your mates about any of it?"

Her brows furrowed. "You mean the path?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't sure if it was real or a hopeful idea for doomed Omegas," she said earnestly.

I lowered my voice. "And now?"

"Now—" she leaned over the table "—I think it's time to have a conversation with my unit."

I nodded, not needing her to say the rest out loud. Their conversation likely meant I would be called on as well. Talking about the Hunt or the Council with the Alpha wasn't originally in my plans, but things had changed. What would it mean for my search for Blythe? Would the Alpha know I was holding back information? My stomach turned over at the thought.

"The Council never expected any of us to win even once. You know firsthand how we're treated. They put us at an even bigger disadvantage right from the start. The only way to win is with the impossible clause they put in. The five-win rule."

"How can you be sure that isn't another lie? What if you survived all five Hunts and they still kept you?"

The words poured from my mouth before I could think better of it. "Because my father was the Council member who fought for the rule. Once enacted, all members are bound by magic to follow the law."

Isolde's eyes widened.

Crap, I really shouldn't have done that.

Why did I?

Why would I divulge information that could impact my escape?

Sure, Isolde seemed happier than any Omega I'd ever known, and maybe a small part of me thought I could fit in here, but I would never give up on Blythe.

"Ladies," a cool, even voice said.

I stiffened at the power in that one word. My wolf instantly recognized the presence of her Alpha. The speaker rounded the table and joined Isolde. The muscular male had white hair, pale skin, and eyes like glaciers. The Alpha.

Isolde's Mate.

Wynn.

Would she tell him what I said?

Isolde elbowed him playfully. "Couldn't stay away?"

"No," he said without an ounce of regret. "Plus, it was getting late. I didn't want you walking back to the den alone after you dropped Brielle off at home." He leveled his frosty gaze on me and held out his hand. "Nice to unofficially meet you."

I swallowed my unease and returned the gesture. "Unofficially?"

"Yes, the official welcome will be after our pack run tomorrow."

"Oh." I didn't hide my surprise.

"Ah, I see your mates haven't told you yet," Wynn said. "They must have been preoccupied with other activities."

I fought the urge to blush at the knowing glint in his eyes.

"Wynn," Isolde said, nudging him and turning to me. Her eyes were brighter from his presence alone. "Ignore him."

"I'll try," I said with a smirk.

"Come on, let me walk you two home."

Isolde rolled her eyes as she stood. "He's just using this as an excuse to herd me back to our house."

Wynn scowled, but the expression held no heat. "Did you just compare me to a border collie?"

Isolde scrunched her nose. "No, you're more of a Labrador."

I choked down a laugh.

"You're going to pay for that," he warned as Isolde pulled me behind her.

My heart felt like it was splitting in two.

The pack was nothing like the stories I'd heard—nothing like the Council.

Even the Alpha, cold as he was, didn't set my wolf on edge.

Part of me longed to find Blythe, but the other wondered what it would be like to call this place home.