Chapter 23

Billie

Muriel and I were sitting out in a canoe on the river. The strip of water along the eastern bank was generally very still from the currents that wound down the western bank, and we were able to paddle up and down with relative ease, our paddle strokes long and languid.

Helen and Matthew had a ten-year-old son and eight-year-old daughter, who generally used this canoe. There was another canoe that belonged to Harper and Shane's two kids, one of whom was mucking around in it now, nearer the bank.

Lately, Muriel had been saying how much she missed the water in the Kootenai National Forest, where her home was. She'd told me about how there were sacred waterfalls and lakes within the Rocky Mountains that she and Kiara visited weekly. I'd learned that the pilgrimages and dips they took were important rituals they lived by, and a way of worshiping their Sky god, Selene.

I'd suggested to her that the sacred waters of our river, gliding out in a canoe, might be a suitable substitute in the meantime. Muriel had been delighted at the idea. I wasn't surprised to see the pups of the pack, who all loved Muriel as their resident storyteller, wanting to get involved. Two of the kids were pushing out the other canoe and coming toward us. Their laughter rang out from the shore, as wonderful as the sunshine that was gracing us again this morning.

Muriel sat back in the canoe, gazing up at the big blue sky. There was barely a cloud obscuring it.

"Thank you for this morning, Billie," she said. "Big Sky country is what they call Montana, and I almost felt as if I were back there this morning. Up in the Rockies beneath this big blue, I always feel Selene's power."

I thought of the way my wolf felt close to Vana when running through the forest. I understood exactly what Muriel meant about a particular environment bringing about communion with her goddess.

Muriel and I had spent the last couple of hours chatting about unicorn beliefs and enjoying our surroundings. The water played a sacred role in unicorns' beliefs in a similar way that the river did to the Grandbay Pack. Holy water was deeply connected to their sky goddess, Selene.

As Muriel continued to tilt her head back and admire the big blue above, I dipped my hands through the cool waters of the Gunnison. Muriel and I were communing together, and I got the sense that we were getting to know each other even better.

We're kindred spirits.

I loved having Muriel here in Grandbay, but I hoped that before long, she'd succeed in getting back to where she belonged.

"You'll be back in Montana with Kiara before long, I'm sure," I said, knowing how much she missed her daughter. "Until then, you're welcome to share our sacred river like any of the pack."

"Thank you, dear." Her silvery eyes held me affectionately. I felt how lucky I'd been to spend the morning in this way with my friend.

But … worry tugged at me. Like one of those hidden currents out in the river's depths, it took a hold and I knew as lovely as this had been, it couldn't distract me forever.

So, I asked, "Can you drop me down on the bank?"

"Course, dear," she said. I tried to focus on the calm sound of our paddles stroking the water as we glided back toward the bank, already missing the tranquility I'd found.

We edged up along the grassy bank, and Piper, Harper and Shane's daughter, exclaimed, "Awww, you're not getting out, are you?"

"I need to, but Muriel's staying in," I said. "How about you take my place?"

Piper whooped and all but wrestled the paddle from me. I grinned at the little girl as Muriel held the canoe still as she got in.

I scrambled up the bank.

The worry settling in my belly was about Gavin. I still hadn't seen him since he'd gone off running last night. I'd heard his cabin door go shortly after I'd left his place. I'd peeked out to see his wolf disappearing into the woods. What if something had happened to him?

I tried to smother my alarm down for the umpteenth time, reminding myself that if he'd been hurt, I would have felt it. With the telepathic connection that had worked between us whenever one of us was in danger so far, I felt sure I would know if he was in danger.

But the sun had risen hours ago, and he still hadn't returned. Why had he been out all night? I'd asked Oslo whether he'd been on sentry duty on the borders, and he'd told me that he wasn't.

But he'd gone to patrol the forest anyway. I stood at the start of the trail into the forest. He wouldn't have left pack lands. Not with the threat circling us from Dalesbloom and the Inkscales. He knew our territory needed all members here to defend it. But that gnawing apprehension refused to go away.

Taking off my plaid shirt, I'd just decided to go look for him when Gavin's dark brown wolf stalked from out of the trees. I blinked at him, slack-jawed as if my thoughts had conjured him. For a moment, thoughts about our telepathic connection I'd experienced skittered through my thoughts. Had he sensed my unease? But his casual pace as he descended the trail suggested not.

A musky scent, with the hint of ginger and lime, caught in my nostrils. A scent that instantly conjured to mind the bathroom of the Hexen household, with its claw-footed bath and clean white tiles. But, beneath the ginger and lime was the strong, musky tone, which sent other memories through me, strong arms, attentive blue eyes, and always an understanding tone: Colt's scent.

My heart pounded like a jackhammer.

But Gavin seemed not to notice and hurried past me as if Colt's scent wasn't all over him.

I trailed behind his wolf, demanding, "You saw Colt?"

The brown wolf mounted the veranda. Gavin morphed into his human form. My heart stuttered as I was distracted by his tight ass, muscular thighs, and wide back, all suddenly right on display.

I forced myself to look away as he changed, demanding again, "What happened with you and Colt?"

I waited to hear how my friend was, anticipation pulsing through me.

But Gavin's voice rumbled with aggression, "I chased him out of our woods, which he trespassed in."

Fear and disbelief zipped through me as I realized that Colt had finally come to see me… I knew that that was the only thing that could have motivated him to step into what was now deemed enemy territory by his father, only for Gavin to chase him away.

My voice hollowed out, "No. Please tell me you didn't…"

Gavin turned around with only his jeans on. A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze hit me. "I did exactly what any Alpha would when an enemy strayed into his land. I attacked him."

My heart punched my rib cage because, now that I was looking for it, I detected an undertone of blood on Gavin. My stomach churned. Colt's blood was on him. Panic thumped through me. What if he was badly injured?

All I'd wanted for the last week was to know my friend was okay, and now Gavin hadn't only obliterated my chances of seeing him again, but worse, he might have hurt him badly.

Alarm rang through me as I thought about how I had no way of finding out whether he was all right either. "You had no right to do that," I accused.

Gavin clenched his hands into fists. "As Alpha of these lands, I had every right," he fired back.

My chest deflated. "That's not what I meant." Disappointment swooped through my stomach. "He was only trying to check on me … and now … I won't see him."

For a moment, Gavin was silent, his eyes brushing over me as if considering my words. But he only said, "He wandered into enemy territory. He should be grateful I didn't kill him."

I recoiled, disbelief pounding through me. Gavin's duty as Alpha seemed to be the only thing that mattered to him. He was tarring all of Dalesbloom with the same brush. I knew we were at war with them, but disbelief twisted through me… He knew Colt was important to me, and he still attacked him. And I didn't see an ounce of remorse in his expression or voice.

The tension lay thick in the air, palpable like pressure before a downpour. Gavin continued to vibrate with an air of righteousness. He seemed blind to the fact that he'd caused me pain. I couldn't help but compare this exchange to the tranquil morning I'd had with Muriel this morning. Unease hummed through me. Was this how it was always going to be between us?

The brief moments of intimacy we'd experienced felt like a distant dream. As I gazed at the taut lines of Gavin's features, I contemplated this telepathic connection that existed between us as fated mated. It was supposed to make us stronger, but the bond between us only seemed to be weakening us.

The sun continued its lazy arc overhead, casting a warm glow over the river and the surrounding forest, unmoved by the desolation sweeping through me. The connection I'd felt growing between Gavin and me over the last few days felt frayed. The very essence of our bond seemed to hang between, fragile and in danger of breaking, as we stared each other down.

I turned away from Gavin, who was still rigid with unresolved anger. Hurrying to the Mundy's cabin, I was thankful not to encounter any of them in the living room or kitchen. The solitude of my bright bedroom was what I needed. But as I lay down on the bed, clutching one of the bright honeycomb-patterned cushions to my chest, the place offered me no cheer. And, for the first time since coming to Grandbay, I wished to be back in Dalesbloom because the worry weighing on my heart for Colt might then be resolved.