23 - Absolutely Not

"No," Rowan says at once, a hard edge to his voice that I'm not used to hearing. He stares up at me, anguish fracturing his eyes, and guilt spears through my chest. "Absolutely not."

"You think I want this?" I retort, backing up firmly into my comfort zone. My chest feels tight at the mere thought of asking for help from the very people I wanted to avoid at all costs, but I know I have no choice. "I want them dead, Rowan, but killing them isn't worth losing you. Nothing is worth that. And if we face these monsters without them, I'll lose you."

He shakes his head and sits up. When he speaks, his voice is fragile. "River, please. Not them. Anyone but them."

"It has to be them. There's no one else who can kill these things," I insist. I need him to understand. I need him to back me up. He's voicing my own thoughts and I can't let him convince me otherwise with that silky voice fractured with horror, with those bronze eyes liquid with hurt.

"We can try again, coordinate our attacks, focus on one at a time— please, love, don't do this," he rushes out, desperate.

I shake my head. "I'm not taking that chance with you. If I lose you, I... I don't know what I'll become. I can't—" I cut myself off and take a steadying breath.

"You think they'll rush in here to help us?" he counters. "They want you dead, River. They want us all dead."

"I know that—"

"We can make contact with more packs," he forges on, determination strengthening his tone. "They'll help us — they have to — and we'll get close enough. We can kill them on our own—"

"Rowan."

He falters, catching my gaze, and I can see cracks of despair in his dark eyes. "What makes you think they won't kill us all the moment they see us? What makes you think they won't kill you?"

"Because I know them," I insist. "They won't be able to let the idea of these lycanthropes go, I'm certain. I can suggest a truce — a ceasefire — until the lycans are dead, and then we can catch them off-guard." In truth, I have no idea what their reaction will be. I only know they value the hunt above all else, and I have to hope the lycanthropes are a bigger threat than me and the wolves.

"I'm not willing to take that chance, love. Not with you."

"I am. It's our only chance. I can't kill the lycans, Rowan. Not on my own. Not when it puts you at risk. Believe me, I hate this as much as you do. I know what they're like. I know that if I go there and they see me alive, they won't let it go. But they'll hear me out. I... I can convince them to hold off from killing me until the lycanthropes are dead."

"And then what?" he retorts. "They won't let you leave alive."

I shrug and drop his gaze. "If those lycans take out a few of them instead of you, it's worth it. Two birds, one stone." I take a deep, shaky breath and say, "I brought you and the others into danger because I couldn't let my hatred for them go. I need to put aside that hatred before I get you killed." Stubborn tears streak down my cheeks and I hastily wipe them away. "You almost died, last night, Rowan. I almost lost you, and I... I'm scared that the next time we face them, they'll take you from me. I can't do this alone. I need you with me, and I need you safe."

Rowan shakes his head, his golden eyes glistening. "River, you can't. Not them. Anyone but them. I know what they've done to you, and I can't stand you becoming indebted to them. We'll find another way. Any other way."

"We tried the other way, and I almost lost you. Milo's dead, Darius and Imogen are giving up. This is our only option. We need help, Rowan. Please, trust me."

"Of course I trust you. It's them I don't trust. I just... fuck, I don't want you to put yourself in a situation you're not comfortable with. Not with them. They wanted you dead. If you go to them and ask for their help, what's to stop them from trying again?"

"I have to take that chance. I don't want to be like them, Rowan. I don't want to lose you because I was too stubborn to ask for help."

"Then I'm going with you."

An instant refusal rises on my lips. Taking Rowan into the heart of the Ferreus home is like taking a match into a room of eager dynamite. Before I can even get the first word out, he cuts me off.

"I told you I'm by your side, love. No matter what. If you're walking into that place, I swear to the Goddess you're not walking in alone. Whatever happens there, I'm with you. I have your back."

I shake my head in disbelief. Unbidden, I think of the alley where we found the hunters, when one of them ventured out. Rowan crowded me against the wall, covering me so that if the hunter did snap, he would be hit first. All he has ever shown me is unconditional care. I don't deserve the trust and faith he puts in me, but I can earn it by making sure he gets out of this mess alive.

Even if it does mean asking for help from the very people I set out on this journey to kill.

"You're not going to let me convince you that's a terrible idea, are you?" I ask him, my tone all sharp and defensive. The mere thought of Rowan going there with me has my hackles raising. I don't mean to, but I'm lashing out at him.

"That depends. Are you going to let me convince you asking for their help is a terrible idea?" he returns, his voice soft with patience and his eyes all honeyed with it, too. The harsh bite of my tone dissipates between us before it can reach him.

I release a sharp sigh and mutter, "No."

"Then my answer's no, too," he says before getting out of bed.

I watch, at a loss, as he strides for the dresser and changes, tugging his hair into some form of order as he goes. I've just suggested the most harrowing idea and here he is, acting like everything is fine. Hesitantly, I get up and follow suit, shrugging on some clothes.

"You can't come with me," I try once more to convince him.

"So you can rush into danger, but I can't?" he asks me over his shoulder.

I forge on, determined for him to understand, "Your pack needs you, Rowan—"

"I need you," he says, whirling on me, his voice so full of anguish, it shuts me up as efficiently as if he'd struck me. His golden eyes are alight with pain. "You think I could live with myself if I let you go and you don't come back to me? Don't ask me to stay behind because I won't. If you insist on going there, then I'm insisting on going with you." His shoulders heave with deep breaths and he tells me with a brittle, strained voice, "What you felt last night, out in the woods— that's what I feel every time you're caught in a fight. Every moment you put yourself in danger is a moment when I can't breathe. You are my fated, River. You are my lifeline. If you think asking for help from those hunters is what we need to survive this, then I trust you, but I won't let you face them alone."

I stare at him, thoughts flitting and surging uselessly in my head, thoroughly admonished.

His expression softens as he holds my gaze, and he closes the distance between us in a few purposeful strides. I start for him, too, and he slides his arms around me with gentle familiarity. I melt against his embrace, breathing deeply, letting his warmth and his scent smooth out my jagged emotions.

"I can let it go," I mumble against him. "I can let them go. Say the word and we can go home and pretend like nothing has happened."

All my life, I've insisted that I do not run from a fight— and yet, if it keeps Rowan safe and alive, I'd pack my bag this instant if he chose.

He sighs softly, holding me close. "I know. But we can't. This pack needs us, love, and if you think their only hope is getting more Ferreus hunters on board, then that's what we'll do. I'll just have to charm them like I charmed you."

I snort a weak laugh.

A comfortable silence descends between us for a few, blissful minutes. I can almost pretend nothing has happened and there are no lycanthropes and my idea is nonexistent. Almost.

At last, I break it. "Thank you. For trusting me, I mean."

"Always," he vows. "We just have to break the news to the others."

– ➶ –

The house is empty when we venture out to look for everyone. There is no sound except for the out-of-rhythm ticking of clocks, the creaks of the cottage as it settles, the whines of the floorboards beneath Rowan's feet as he leads me down the maze for the front door, either following his nose or his ears to the others.

A sombre, grief-leaden fog hangs over the clearing as we emerge. The sky is a blanket of mottled grey and a harsh, icy wind sends shivers down the spines of the bordering trees. Their pines and leaves rustle and whisper to one another beneath the howl of the gale tormenting them.

Lachlan is perched on the porch steps, gazing out at the grey, melancholy woods before him. As Rowan and I take a seat at his side, he offers us a little smile of greeting, but it's quick to fall. I tilt my head against the porch railing and stare across the clearing. Matteo and Kay are sat in the shadows of the trees, their backs to a sturdy trunk, hugging their knees to their chests in a forlorn mirror image. As we settle, their heads lift a little to regard us. I can't quite make out their expressions, but I recognise the hunch to Teo's shoulders, the assurance of Kay's presence at his side, the desire for a little privacy. This pack used to be Matteo's home. Losing so much can't have been easy for him.

At last, my focus is drawn to the base of the steps by the railing, where I find a neat pile of knives. My knives. They're the silver ones I've been wearing to face the lycanthrope — or lycanthropes, now — and the blades are smudged with crimson stains.

"Kay and I went out to fetch them for you this morning," Lachlan tells me, following my gaze. A little smile touches his lips and he adds, "Go on. I walked right into that one."

But I don't mock him, or rise to the bait of his joke. Instead, I hold his gaze and say, "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs, suddenly almost bashful at my close attention. "Yeah, well, I figured you'd want them close."

I hum and a brittle silence descends between us. Grief hangs thick and choking in the air. Milo gave his life to defend us, last night. I can't bring him back, but I can make sure his pack — or what's left of it — survives this mess. To do that, I have to set aside the simmering fury I've held for the rest of the Ferreus hunters and ask for their aid. A part of me desperately longs for this to be one huge nightmare. I'm longing for Rowan to wake me up and assure me it was just a dream and we're safe, but I know it won't happen. I'm stuck.

"Where are Darius and Imogen?" Rowan asks, perhaps eager to fill up the tense quiet.

"Patrolling with the rest of the pack," Lachlan tells him, a heavy, sombre edge to his voice. "I don't think they came back at all, last night."

Rowan blows out a sigh and melts a little further against the steps. He knows as well as I do that the grief this pack is choking on won't end until those lycanthropes are gone. They've already lost so much, but we can stop them from losing anyone else.

With a steeling breath, I admit softly, "I need to ask for their help. The other Ferreus hunters. I... I don't think I can kill these lycanthropes without them."

It's as though I've sucked all the air from the clearing. I stare hard down at my knives but I feel the heat of my family's attention on my skin; their shock so intense I feel its warmth against me. Silence gathers and churns like a physical force pressing in around us and even the whistling wind becomes subdued.

I brace myself for the wave of refusal, for their anger and their betrayed, hurt tones.

Lachlan is the first to break the quiet. He blows out a heavy sigh and simply says, "Fuck."

I'm so attuned to their reactions that I pick up on the approach of Teo and Kay even though their footsteps are soft against the grass and even though my gaze stays locked with piercing intensity on my knives.

Rowan is silent at my side, and if the others send him any alarmed or lost looks, I don't dare check to see his response.

At last, when the approaching footsteps cease, Matteo tells me, "We can go home, Riv. I... I know what this means to you. I want you to know you don't have to do anything you don't want to— especially not that. You don't owe this pack anything."

"I know," I manage. Against my best intentions, my voice is timid and no amount of glaring at my knives will change it. "But those creatures killed Milo. They're killing werewolves, and they're not going to stop unless someone kills them. I can't do it alone, but I... I need to know they can be stopped. If I turn my back now, and they start showing up at home..."

I don't finish, but I don't need to. I can feel their tension like electricity stirring in the air. The thought of these lycanthropes lurking on the borders of Crescent Valley, turning humans, tearing werewolves to shreds— it's enough to send an ice-cold shiver scuttling down my spine that has nothing to do with the cool wind.

"If you're going to find them, we'll go with you," Kay suggests, a hard, determined note to their voice.

My gaze snaps up to glare at them and my refusal harmonises with Rowan's own. It's bad enough that Rowan won't leave my side even if it means he could die, but I won't put anyone else in danger.

"You're not going there alone—" Matteo argues, his eyes wide with mingling desperation and terror.

"He won't be alone. I'm going with him," Rowan tells them. Though his voice is soft, he commands every shred of their attention. They stare at us both as though we've gone mad.

"No," Matteo manages at last, shaking his head numbly. "No, no, you can't. I can't lose you both, as well. Rowan, please."

Rowan looks as though he's in pain, his features twisting with agony as he bears the brunt of their panic. I can't stand it.

Before I can speak, Lachlan beats me to it.

"I'm going with you."

"No, Lach," Rowan counters, a heavy note to his tone. "You can't."

Lachlan's jaw ticks and he says, "Why did you choose me as your gamma?"

Rowan frowns at him but answers, "Because I trust you. Because you're a good, loyal person and you care about everyone in our pack. Because you're my friend and I..." He trails off for a moment, his brows pinching, and at last he finishes, "And I trust my life in your hands."

Lachlan nods sombrely. "I'd be a pretty shit gamma if I let you head off to a place like that without backup."

"It's too dangerous—"

"That fight with the lycans was dangerous, but we face things as one. We always have, and I'll be damned if you both die on my watch. I will not lose my alphas. You can ask me to do anything, Ro, but please, don't ask me to stay behind. If I can help you get through this, then I'm going with you. And if things go wrong, I want to be there, too. I want to know I gave it my all if the worst should happen."

As I blink, caught up on my inclusion in the alpha title, Rowan swallows thickly and nods. "Okay," he says softly.

Lachlan smiles and catches my gaze, his own eyes blazing with a fierce dedication. "You're gonna be alright, Riv. If those bastards even think about fighting, say the word and we'll take care of them."

"Hold on," Kay interrupts. "If Lachlan's going, then I am, too."

Just as Teo starts to agree, Rowan shakes his head. "I need you both to stay here and guard the borders until we get back. This pack needs you in case the lycanthropes come back."

"What if you don't come back?" Matteo asks. "What the hell do we do then?"

I know Rowan wants to assure him that we'll be alright, that there's nothing to worry about, but he stays quiet. He can't promise them anything.

"Then you go home," I tell him firmly, leaving no room for argument. "And you warn the pack that something terrible is coming."