Chapter 10 - Faye

Thursday morning felt oddly bleak to me. I was walking around the pack with Hector for the first time since I arrived, trying to get a sense of where I was and what I was going to do. He hadn't let me call Kylie or either of my alphas, and I couldn't sneak his phone away from him. He constantly had it in his hand or his pocket. Nobody knew where I was, but I had to hope that they would figure it out soon.

I sighed.Maybe if I tried not to think about it, it wouldn't bother me.

Hector and I were walking along the trails next to the storage units, going toward Adrian's condo. I had taken this route when I'd first arrived, when I was kidnapped and taken here against my will, and I noticed that the cornfields were coming up on the right. Nothing about it had changed exactly, but for some reason, it looked a lot less familiar to me than I would have expected.

I nodded toward the line of trees that guarded the barns. "When did that get there?"

Hector appeared like he had been shaken awake. That look had been plastered to his face for a while now. He seemed to get lost in thought a lot.

But once he registered what I asked, he glanced in the direction I was looking and then gazed back at me. "Oh, I guess we did that a few years ago. The compound stretches a lot farther now."

I kept a steady pace next to him. I followed the curve that went forty-five degrees to the left where it turned into a lush neighborhood. It seemed like the Silverfang Creek had expanded so much more in the last seven years than I would have thought. A lot of the houses seemed to be updated or in a state of getting repaired.

Many of the ones that were in disrepair long ago under Adrian's rule were now getting fixed. Already a week into Hector's reign and things were getting better. I looked at him, intending to make a joke about it, but I let it fall from my lips instead, back into the recesses of my mind to hide.

Because I wasn't sure how to act with him.

This guy used to be my bully. Now he claimed I was his mate and turned one of our most recent encounters into a soft-core fantasy. The way his hands roamed my body spoke of his desire, and the heavy trek of his lips told me he hadn't wanted to stop.

So, why had he stopped? It wasn't like anyone would chide us for hooking up. The sooner I got rid of my virginity, the better. I didn't want to come across as inexperienced, and at the same time, I didn't want to rush into something with him when I was just going to end up leaving.

Ugh, talk about confusing . According to him, my only alpha was him, no one else. He said I belonged to the Silverfang Creek. Did that mean my virginity belonged to him, too? Worse than confusing. Backward .

Thinking of my Beaufort-Bravecrest family made my heart ache. I missed my regular routine, the woody smell of my apartment, the sound of birds chirping in the window, and the way Kylie snort-giggled whenever we were jogging through the woods. I even missed the familiarity of the diner where I worked and my most rigid customers like Gabe, who was too picky about his eggs and how they were prepared.I folded my hands together and then unfolded them, rubbing my fingers against each other instead to feel the cool texture of my fingerprint ridges. I was wearing one of Hector's oversized gray sweaters with the baggy jeans that I'd grabbed from the free bin at the community center. The tennis shoes I got were actually the perfect size, and I was grateful to my brother for pointing them out. They were cute, and I could probably scribble some kind of design on them if I wanted. It wasn't like I had a whole lot to do these days other than act like this guy's mate.

I played with the frayed end of the sweater sleeve. This couldn't possibly be the rest of my life. I needed to do something . "So… Can I get a job or something?"

Hector burst out laughing. It took him a minute to get under control, so long that it actually annoyed me enough to halt me in my tracks. I stopped right in the middle of the road, not even caring if I was blocking it.

My hands went straight to my hips, just like my mom's used to. "What the hell is so funny?"

He turned to me while holding his gut as if he were about to start laughing again. "You're my mate. That's your job."

I scoffed. "Oh, so I'm just going to be popping out babies?"

He gave me a lascivious smirk and said, "With a lot of practice first."

My heart stuttered hearing that while I tried to manage my medley of expressions. Interest, shock, indignance. Seriously, what was his deal? How could he hit on me when he basically forced me to be here?

And how could I want him so badly when I just wanted to fight him all the time? Fight, fuck—at this point, I wasn't even sure if I could discern them. We weren't really walking, but we weren't really talking either. We were caught on the edge of the main housing units, and I was trying to determine how I was going to respond to him hitting on me. I glanced toward the neighborhood.

My parents' house was up ahead, third one on the right. Although it had once been destroyed, I knew what it looked like now. I knew because of the way Cliff had described it to me when the repairs were done. And anyway, their scent was there, so it wasn't like I could miss it. It was too bad that the tornado hadn't torn everything right out of the roots.

We started walking again.

I was nervous to walk past it, but the more we stepped toward it, the less I had to force my legs to move. It was a house— just a house. Nothing about it was intimidating, from its brown shutters to its seashell coral pink paint. It stood tall with two stories and rigid lines, resembling my mother right down to the prim porch with stern shapes—all sharp edges.

Hector had defended me against them. It was so weird to think about it, to recall his words. My mother and father were stunned. Of course, they did all their apologizing to their alpha instead of me, but still, the fact that Hector said anything at all was amazing.

I didn't really want to know them. But my alpha said—the guy who claimed to be my alpha—demanded that I try to know my parents. That made me wonder about other things. "You say the pack has changed," I said slowly. "Can you show me any of that?"

Hector was quiet as we wandered past the yard where I once learned how to ride a tricycle… before I melted the bars right into the ground because I couldn't control my powers as a freaky witch child.

He nodded and then pointed to a house a few paces ahead. "We'll stop there."

I was curious about his choice because the house didn't seem to match any of the other designs around us. While everyone else had traditional wooden cabins or modern colonial structures, this one was more personal, made of ruddy red brick. It seemed like a lot of people had taken a lot of time to build it. As we walked up the steps, I noticed a long line of flowers decorating either side of the coffee brown wooden porch.

It stretched in either direction with wall-length windows in every possible place. The curtains were open, allowing so much light into the house that it made me wonder why there was a roof on it at all. We didn't even have to knock either. The person who occupied the house answered the door right when I raised my fist to the wood.

A short woman holding a small set of glasses, quite stout, with graying hair, puffy cheeks and a wide nose that was bulbous, blinked up at me. She wore muted colors, mostly teal and brown, and a pair of dingy white slippers that had little bunny ears on them. She smiled so sweetly it felt like I'd known her forever. In her leathery brown face, I saw a million of my ancestors grinning back at me.

She caught my hand and drew me inside as if I had been planning to come over for tea for ages.

"Please, have a seat," she insisted. "Any mate of the alpha is a friend of mine."

She was so sweet and loving that I felt I had no choice but to obey her generous offer. All around the living room were beaded works, tufted blankets, charcoal sketches, paintings of great mountains, and many other things. I hardly had room to move my feet, let alone find a place to sit. But she sat me on a leather couch that could have been a recliner without all the junk in front of it piled on the coffee table.

Each piece of art or craft seemed to have a glow to it as if it were made by hands that were not of this earth. That easily could have been the trick of the light filtering through the dust particles in the air. I held my hand over my mouth to resist breathing in the musty smell.

Hector trailed in after me, stepping over the clutter of books and craft supplies on the ground, the thick carpets making him trip up in some places and catching his shoes on others. He eventually landed on quite a large gothic chair, one with pronounced cushions that didn't seem to be comfortable at all, upholstered in a shade that could only be described as dried blood. Even though it didn't look comfortable, he made himself look comfortable. Perhaps to be polite to the person who let us in.

Hector gestured to the woman who was preparing three teacups that were so small I was afraid I might break one if I held it. "This is Daria. She's an elder wolf who does beadwork. We value her presence here. She only recently came to join us a couple of years ago after her son passed away."

Daria's bushy eyebrows rose and wiggled at me. "He would have liked you. Only because of your magical spirit. Is that what brought you to us?"

I laughed. "Do you know about the kidnapping?"

Daria observed us quietly, and then turned back to her teacups. She picked one up and handed it to me, and then she handed the other to Hector. She stood nearby, sort of hovering, deciding perhaps whether she wanted to sit on a pile of books or on a pile of carpets. She settled eventually for the coffee table that was right in front of my knees. "You know, sometimes love starts off in a really strange way."

She took a long sip of her tea, almost like she was capping the end of her sentence with the slurping sound. Then she sighed as if it was the most delicious tea in the world. Seeing her react that way made me curious about it. So, I took a sip of mine.

It really was delicious. I couldn't put my finger on the taste of it exactly, but it was wonderful, and I couldn't help drinking as much of it as I could until it was gone from the tiny cup. I reached out to hand the cup back to her and she accepted it with a loving grin.

She peered into the cup, her eyes turning so bright that the brown turned to a silvery gray, like moonlight peeking out from behind a dark cloud. "I think you wanted to come here. I don't think you put up much of a fight."

The laugh I released sounded like a bark. "You must be stoned."

She looked pleased as she pointed to the rear of the house. "I can show you my plants. They're great for relaxation—" She glanced at Hector. "Some might say an aphrodisiac as well."

Hector blushed while crossing one leg over the other. "My friend, I don't think we need help in that department."

I gaped at him. "Shut up."

Daria guffawed while taking my hand. "Come on! I'll give you a tour, dear."

Before I could fight the old lady off, she dragged me through her cluttered home. The brick walls housed many paintings that were indecipherable. Splattered blobs of color sprouted from plain canvas or were smeared in nonsensical directions from the canvas to the brick. We squeezed between towering stacks of boxes, past arches filled with pages, and underneath low-hanging doorways to get to a room in the back that smelled like a skunk. She held up a beaded necklace made of bright red and yellow, delicious cotton candy-pink, and dazzling cloud-white beads. It was just one row of beads all in a single line holding a star in the middle, and she handed it to me.

Then, she took it back and beckoned me to lift my hair so she could put it around my neck. "Wear this always. Put your favorite oil on it and think of this moment when you realize that you do love him."

I felt the tiniest bolt of shock. "What?"

She didn't repeat herself.

Instead, she took me back to the living area and invited Hector to look at some wares she had recently created. I got lost in my thoughts as I traced the beads, thinking about each one that I touched, meditating on the shape and texture as my fingers passed over them. I stopped at the star just for a second, thinking how simple it was and how innocuous it seemed.

But, even as tiny as it was, it shimmered right under my fingers. Much like a winking star in the night, it glowed.

Was that how Daria saw me?

***

After we bid farewell to Daria, we went to another home several doors down. This one was much taller, a modern structure with a young woman bent over in the yard tending to a great bush of roses. There were so many, in fact, that I was afraid to approach because they looked mighty feisty.

The moment she noticed us, she lifted her head, whipped off her sun hat, and used it to wave at us. "Come look, Alpha! They're coming in very nicely right now."

She was much taller when she finally stood up. She wore a white shirt and khaki pants that were muddied at the knees. She had gloves over her hands, just the usual gardening type, and she was holding a bouquet of red roses that she had just picked. Her hair was long and tinted the color of the ocean when it turns green in the morning, and her eyes were bright like cerulean-blue stones made of the sky. Her skin was a tarnished tan, kind of like an old rusty lamp.

When I got close enough, she welcomed me with a hug while laughing so musically that it made me think that she wasn't a wolf at all, but maybe perhaps one of the Fae. "I'm Rhiannon," she introduced herself. "You must be Faye. You must be the one that's supposed to be the alpha's mate. Isn't he so charming?"

She laughed again, and I couldn't help but join her. She gathered a mixture of purple peonies to seat next to the red roses, then added some baby's breath that she shoved all together. She wrapped them with brown twine and handed them to me. I stared at the flowers.

She grinned apologetically and touched the petals. "May you have abundance all your days."

"It's lovely. Thank you." I smiled sweetly at the flowers. "I'll treasure them as long as they're alive."

She bowed to Hector and then bowed to me. "Terribly sorry I can't host, but I must take care of some flowers that have overgrown in the back. Tell me what the peonies say when they die!"

And then she ran off as if that was a totally normal encounter. Because all of this was totally normal. I wasn't being held hostage and I wasn't being given gifts by people in my own pack and being treated like a regular old member. I was starting to get dizzy from the encounters.

Was that because of the sun? Or was it my sneaking suspicion that this was all some elaborate hoax?

***

After we left Rhiannon's house, we went to the other side of the main housing next to the park and tennis courts. There was a smaller cabin off to the side, sort of tucked away in a nook of trees and massive bushes. The structure was stony with wooden shutters and a door, too small to be something that someone used as a home. But who was I to judge?

I smelled smoke in the air. Charcoal, or some kind of coal that burned very hot, stung my nostrils. There was a metallic tang as well, and then I heard the consistent slam of a hammer against metal.

I looked at Hector with disbelief. "Do you seriously have your own blacksmith now?"

He smiled. "Why does that please you?"

"How do you know it pleases me?"

"You can't hide that smirk, Cherry Pie."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, considering everything else, maybe—and I mean just maybe —I think that's pretty damn neat. But I'm not going to give you an answer right now."

He chuckled as he guided me along the path toward the rustic wooden door that swung wide open as if on a motion sensor. Inside was a slate gray stone workspace that seemed like it was fixed in an era that celebrated blacksmiths. The gargantuan man that bent over the fire wore thick black goggles and had his black hair tied back into a ponytail. It was slick and wet with grease and sweat.

His skin was the color of bright coral, almost pink with the firelight dancing over it. What skin was revealed by his taut shirt revealed a flush of obsidian hair that covered his arms. More grease and sweat piled his skin, shiny like the charcoal apron he wore. The heavy-duty apron caught sparks as he slammed the metal rhythmically, and then stuck it in a bucket of water. The hiss and steam came so distinctly that it made me wonder if I was in West Virginia at all.

When he noticed our presence, he slung his goggles up, set his hammer on the hearth, and roared with boisterous laughter. He greeted Hector with a hearty handshake that could have broken the man's arm if he wasn't a shifter. When the blacksmith turned to me, he gave me a deep bow and took my hand so gently that it made me wonder if he worked with tools at all. "Call me Mortimer."

I smiled. "It's lovely to meet you, Mortimer. I'm Faye."

"We're glad the alpha has his miss. Do you fancy the swords?"

I peered at the fire. "Kind of. I like working with daggers sometimes."

"In that case, come to me for any of your weapon necessities. Have a look at the wall over there."

He gestured to the other side of the workshop where many freshly-made swords and knives along with an assortment of tools were sparkling in the light. They were really lovely, and I wanted to inspect them, but Hector looked preoccupied.

It was then I realized I heard a child crying. As though propelled against my will, I drifted onto the walkway outside and followed my heart to the park. A child with buttercup skin who couldn't have been older than five was on the ground with black hair in his face. His knee was skinned, the open wound staining the torn fabric of his brown pants. His orange shirt had an astronaut on it that had dirt and woodchips smeared in the design.

I knelt next to the boy and brushed his hair off his face. "You aright?"

"Danny pushed me." The boy pointed to an older kid with the same skin and hair color. They were likely brothers.

I waved for Danny to come over. "That wasn't very nice if that's true."

Danny hung his head, appearing guilty now that he'd been caught. "Sorry, ma'am. Jimmy started it."

"Be good to your brother. You don't know how long you have him."

A voice in the back of my mind told me to wave my hand over Jimmy's knee. Seconds later, the skinned flesh was repaired, and the blood was gone. I sat back on my knees thinking about how this had once happened in grade school. My classmates pointed at me and called me a freak.

As though reliving the moment, I stood up, brushed myself off, and hurried away.

Within minutes, the child was laughing again and running off as if he'd never been injured. Neither he nor his brother made any comment about my power. Jimmy paused to wave, smacking his brother's side to do the same. I waved back.

Hector was waiting for me in the doorway of the workshop when I returned. I realized that there was so much more about this pack that had changed. So much more than I could have ever dreamed. People were giving me gifts. Children were waving at me. Hector was defending me against my parents.

Was it worth it to stick around?

"Cool trick," Hector teased. "Can you show me how to do that sometime?"

My lips flattened into a disappointed line. Mortimer gave one of those full-bellied laughs again and took a sword from the wall. It was a cold steel sword with an English backing and a handle that curved right over my fingers as if they were made just for me.

Although it was long, it was light and easy for me to hold, surprisingly enough. Mortimer sighed as if he was looking upon something amazing. "I think that is exactly the sword for you, don't you think, miss?"

I looked it over, seeing how the light winked off the blade as I turned it this way and that. I admired it so much. I'd already formed an attachment to it. And with the beaded necklace, the flowers, and now the sword, I felt my heart was about to burst.

"Every good sword needs a name," Mortimer commented as he gestured to the blade. "What do you think? Listen closely. Let it speak to you."

I focused on the steel, noticing how much care and attention went into making it, thinking about all the names I'd known throughout my life. There was one that stood out, a customer who used to come in all by herself and sit in the corner to drink a small cup of coffee and munch on a bagel. She once made a man tuck tail and run for harassing me. Even as small as she was, she was sharp and strong.

Light, strong, small—yes, I thought I had the perfect name.

"I think I'll name her Maya."

Mortimer smiled. "A fine name, miss. She'll do you well."

"A very fine name," Hector praised, and I looked at him, noticing his look of approval and noticing how good it felt to receive it from him.

In that moment, I was certain that I was right where I belonged.