19. Eighteen

Eighteen

Sloane

I couldn't sleep. Sawyer was still radio silent. Each hour that went by with no contact made me more on edge.

I rolled out from under Lincoln's arm and carefully pushed the covers back as I climbed out of bed. I covered him back up and sighed as I watched him for a moment. He looked peaceful. It had been a fitful night for him too, and he'd only been asleep for a few minutes. One of us should sleep.

I tiptoed across the room and grabbed a hoodie from the closet, tossing it on before putting my hand on the doorknob.

I chewed my lower lip, slowly turning it and wincing when the door creaked. My gaze jumped to the bed. Lincoln snored softly. He opened and closed his mouth and then rolled over.

I waited a few moments before opening the door the rest of the way and leaving. The house was quiet at this time of night. The ancient cable box by the TV said it was just before four in the morning.

My butt should go back to bed. My eyes were heavy, but I'd been lying there wide awake for at least an hour.

Sleep wasn't on the cards for me tonight. I opened the front door, grunting as the icy morning air greeted me. I wrapped my arms around my middle and ambled down the path, heading for the graveyard.

It had been a few days since I'd been, and maybe this was what I needed.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one. Someone else was here. My heart kicked up a notch as I narrowed my eyes. Then the familiar earthy dew scent hit me. Brandon.

I stepped on a stick and he jumped, spinning around. His eyes flashed golden as they partially shifted.

I held up both hands. "Whoa. It's just me."

He jammed his hands back in his sweater pockets and stared up at the sky as he let out a breath. "Sloane, you scared me. I didn't realize anyone else was wandering around out here."

I shoved my hands back into my sweater, too. My fingers were already stiff from the cold. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone else would be out here."

He laughed out loud. "Me either." He chanced a glance at me before staring at the tombstone again. "Do you come out here often? I haven't seen anyone else?"

I clasped my fingers together inside the front pocket of my sweater. "I do, when I get the chance, which isn't as often as I'd like." I licked my lips. "Is it weird that I talk to him?"

Brandon turned to me and arched a brow. "No. I do it too." He chuckled. "If it's weird, I guess we can be weird together."

I cracked a smile as I rocked up on my toes. "I ask him what I should do and if I'm doing things right." I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth and looked at the ground as I dragged my shoe through the leaves. "I've had to make some tough calls lately. I'm just afraid I'm not doing the right thing."

Brandon met my gaze. "Dad chose the right person for the job. Just the fact you question if you're doing a good job says so."

I laughed out loud as I ducked my head down. "I'm not sure that's a sign of a good job, Brandon."

He turned back to the tombstone and sighed. "It is. It means you care. That you're thinking about the pack and not just yourself or our family. But everyone involved."

My heart fluttered. "Thanks."

We stood in a comfortable silence for a few long moments until I broke it. "How are you holding up with everything?"

He shrugged. "Oh, you know, okay."

I nudged him with my elbow. "But really? I know you've been helping Lincoln...how are you?"

I'd been so buried in pack affairs I hadn't had time to myself or to really grieve.

His brows squeezed together. "I'm glad to be helping." He gave me a wide smile. "I think I've finally found my place helping with the computer stuff."

I bumped his arm again. "I wish I'd known you were that good at stuff earlier. I've got some ideas for the future." I eyed him. "You and Lincoln work well together."

Brandon ran a hand through his hair. "He's a smart guy. I'm glad the two of you found each other."

"Me too."

Brandon looked away and cleared his throat. "Have you heard from Sawyer?"

A lump formed in my throat. "No. Not yet." The longer we went without contact the more my nerves frayed. I cleared my throat. "How did you know?" We hadn't told anyone.

Brandon gave me a tight-lipped smile. "I overheard you talking to Willa earlier. I didn't mean to ease drop."

I hugged myself tighter. "He's alive. I know that much." It was something, but nowhere near enough.

Brandon blew out a frosty breath. "I'm sure it's all going to work out the way it's supposed to." He lifted his brows. "Hopefully in our favor."

I wiggled my fingers, that were turning to icicles even in my sweater pocket. "I hope so." Luna wouldn't truly turn her back on us. Would she?

Brandon knelt and picked up some leaves and dirt, crumpling them in his hands and letting them fall back to the ground. "Are you going to let her go with Jacob?"

I pursed my lips. "I don't know. Maybe. I think she should talk to him. It doesn't seem right to go without telling him. You know?"

Brandon hummed. "Yeah. I can see that. He's not going to like it."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think anybody will." I gripped rubbed my hands together, hoping the friction would create some warmth. "Willa and I made a pact when we were prisoners there. We are supposed to kill Alpha Dane together."

"Do you think you can?" His gaze snapped up to mine. "Kill him?"

It felt weird when he asked me like that. I'd killed before, in self defense. But I wasn't a cold-blooded killer, and if I struck him down unarmed, I'd be just as bad as him. "Only if he gives me no other choice."

Could a man like Alpha Dane be rehabilitated? Probably not? Did he deserve a chance to be? No. But I'd give him one.

Winning meant nothing if we weren't better than our oppressor.

Brandon looked up at the sky. "It's crazy. A few months ago, I was trying to convince Mom and Dad to let me go to Cornell for IT, and now..."

Now we were in a fight for our life, and Dad was gone. I put a hand on his shoulder and leaned my head against him. "I didn't know you were trying to go to school."

His shoulders lifted and fell as he let out a long sigh. "It's something I've thought about for a while." He inhaled and exhaled, his jaw working like he had more to say. "I haven't felt like I have a place in the pack for a while. I don't fit in."

I pulled him in for a hug. "Brandon, I had no idea you felt that way." I gave him an extra squeeze. "You've been integral to our plans. I don't want you to feel that way, and if you do, you can talk to me."

He patted my back. "It's okay. I've kept to myself a lot." He looked over his shoulder at the tombstone.

I shook my head as I pulled away, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Sometimes we don't fit into this perfect wolf mold that we think we should. That's okay. You are perfect the way you are."

I looked at my father's grave. My stomach churned. "When this is over, I'll support you if you still want to go."

The smile that lit his face was contagious. "Thanks, Sloane. It means a lot that you say that."

I gave him a playful pat on the head. "Having an IT brain comes in handy. I'm so impressed with your ideas."

He laughed. "I suppose so. It is nice having Lincoln here. He gets it."

I rubbed his arm. "He was an outcast at his home, too. I think when this is over, we are going to make sure that we foster the idea that it's okay to like different things."

Brandon opened his mouth like he might respond, but my phone rang from my pocket.

I fumbled for it, sharing a look with my brother when we saw Mark's name illuminated on the screen. I licked my lips and slid my finger across the screen. "Hey, Mark."

"Sloane, we did it," he yelled into the phone.

I hit Brandon's shoulder, and we both grinned. "You're sure? No one has followed you?"

Mark breathed into the phone heavily. "I'm positive. We've done three double checks. There is no one else here watching us. We are in the clear."

My shoulders lightened seemingly weightless as I let my head fall back. The moon beamed down at me and I said a silent thanks. "This is great news. Keep a low profile. I'll send out more teams tomorrow night."

"Will do. Bye, Sloane."

"Bye, Mark. Stay safe."

The line cut out. I squealed and jumped up and down as Brandon laughed at me. "I think something is finally working out for us."

It was about time. We'd been hit with one horrible thing after another recently.

This was going to work. We were going to win. My heart thumped and giddiness washed over me. I shouldn't get too far ahead of myself. It was dangerous. But we had hope.

Brandon's watch beeped, and he looked at it. "I have to go check in on the wolfsbane. We should be able to start harvesting it."

I nodded and gave him one more hug. "Thanks for taking care of that. I know it's not pleasant." My brows knitted together as I met his gaze. "I meant what I said. We'll talk about Cornell or any other school when this is over."

He grinned, the smile lighting his entire face. "I'm going to take you up on that, Sloane."

I waved at him as he backpedaled. "Let me know how the harvest looks."

"I will." He spun on his heel and marched down the path.

The leaves crunched beneath his feet as he went. I stared as he disappeared between the trees and the dark sky.

I sighed as I turned back to the tombstone. I dropped to my knees and brushed a few twigs away from it. The dirt was still loose and soft. I put my hand on the frigid stone and closed my eyes.

"We are going to stop Alpha Dane, Dad. Order is going to be restored to the packs. I can feel it."

Dad used to say mindset was everything. I had to believe that. Believe in ourselves.

I licked my lips and dragged the pads of my fingers across the rough stone. "Everything is going to be okay. We are going to be okay, Daddy. I promise."

A wisp of wind gusted, blowing my hair across my face. I'd like to think it was him agreeing. And maybe it was.

The wind picked up, sending the leaves scattering across the ground. Rain and dew filled the air.

I patted the stone and then stood, jamming my hands back into my pockets. Rain was rolling in. It pattered lightly against the trees. A few droplets splatted my nose. I blinked as I swiped them away.

I stared at my father's gravestone a moment longer before backing away. It was too cold to be out here when it let loose. The trees twisted as the wind gusted. It was going to let loose at any moment.

I jogged through the trees. Rain misted me. I shivered and picked up my pace as a few droplets hit my head. The leaves swirled at my feet as the tree branches swayed.

I clomped up the porch steps and inside, shutting the door behind me. Just in time, too. Rain pelted the house. I peered out the window to my right. It was pouring.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms as I made my way to the kitchen. Sleep still evaded me. Maybe a piping hot mug of hot chocolate would help.

Pots and pans rattled around in the kitchen. Was mom up already?

I pushed the door and peeked my head in. She was pulling out the big pots. Her hair wound up into a bun, looking fresh and neat. The bags under her eyes said she'd barely slept.

I patted my pocket where my phone was. "I heard from Mark."

She stopped rifling through the cupboard and looked over her shoulder. She held her breath.

I grinned. "He's good. They were undetected."

She sat on the floor and leaned against the cupboards, letting her eyes slide shut for a few moments. "That's fantastic news, my love."

My gaze darted to the green light on the stove. Just after 4:30. "It's a bit early for breakfast prep."

She waved me off, grunting as she pushed up to her feet. "I couldn't sleep." She gave me a look. "What are you doing up? You are never up this early?"

I pulled a packet of swiss miss from the cupboard and a mug. "Couldn't sleep either. Too much on my mind."

She sighed and set a big pot on the counter. "The burden of being an alpha. Your father had many sleepless nights, too. More so recently than over the years."

I flexed my fingers in my sweater pocket. "Other than this what else did he lose sleep over?"

I was half hoping that once the war was over, it would be smooth sailing.

Mom laughed out loud. "There is always something, my love. You'll see. Though after all this, I imagine anything will be a walk in the park."

I filled my mug at the sink and popped it in the microwave. I fiddled with the packet, flipping it between my fingers as I watched the mug circle around on the plate in the microwave.

Mom grabbed the milk from the fridge and set it on the counter, pushing it toward me. "You should add some milk. It might help you sleep. Or at least make it taste creamier, since I think you have to be up soon."

It was worth a shot.

The microwave dinged, and I grabbed my mug, mixing the cocoa in before adding a splash of milk and the marshmallows. I went to put the milk back in the fridge, but Mom reached for it.

"I'll take that. I'm going to make a big pot of oatmeal so it's here for whomever to grab when they want." She gave me a look I couldn't read. "You should go back to bed, my love. The next few days are going to be busy and stressful."

I grabbed my mug, lifting it to my lips and taking a sip. The liquid was hot, burning my tongue momentarily. I swallowed hard. "I'll see you in a few hours, Mom."

"Get some rest, my love."

I held up my mug to her and headed back to the living room and then to the bedroom. The house was silent aside from the occasional snore. I opened my bedroom door and slipped inside, taking another sip of my hot cocoa. The steam bathed my face as I took a few more sips.

A tendril of fear zipped an icy finger down my spine. Pain sliced through me. But it wasn't my own. It was Sawyer.