28 - Piqued Curiosity

Rowan

The sky is a blanket of coal speckled with weak starlight by the time we make it back to Lakeside. When we breach the pack's borders, I catch golden eyes shimmering in the darkened shrubs courtesy of the wolves on patrol. Unlike on our first arrival, they let us pass without issue, and River drives down a trail barely wide enough for the car to fit until we reach the heart of Lakeside, shadowed by the Ferreus hunters.

Already, news of our arrival has spread like a wildfire and a group of people wait for us just outside the beacon of the pack house, the cosy lights from within fending off the worst of the shadows. Imogen, Darius, Matteo and Kay stand with arms crossed and guarded expressions. More people and wolves alike wait at the very edges of the treeline, curious yet cautious.

When River parks and shuts off the engine, he takes a deep, steeling breath and grips the steering wheel tight. "Tell me this isn't a mistake," he says, staring fixedly out the windscreen.

"I think you're doing the right thing, love," I tell him honestly, placing my hand over his. "We need their help with this, whether we like it or not."

"Besides," Lachlan forges on, his voice dripping with assurance, "You're our guy when it comes to dealing with hunters, Riv. We can deal with these ones, too."

He nods, his resolve strengthening, and when he gets out of the car, he does so with a controlled composure; head held high, posture strong and confident. My fated; a force to be reckoned with. He could convince the tides to change with that resolved expression of his.

Lach and I get out the car with him, and together we stride across the clearing for the familiar faces waiting for us, leaving the hunters to make their own way at their own pace. This is as difficult for them as it is for us, even if they do have a tendency to kill first and ask questions later— if at all.

Kay and Matteo are buzzing with relief, and they waste no time in rushing to our sides. Closer to the house, Darius and Imogen wilt with solace when they find us whole and intact, but their guards are quick to build up again at the slam of car doors.

We turn to survey the Ferreus hunters as they stalk forwards like vengeful ghosts; their silver eyes piercing, their belts of weapons glinting like stars. Ivar leads them on, the old journal he found tucked into the crook of his arm.

They falter a fair distance from us, gathered in a defensive group, and their gazes sweep across the treeline, tracking the golden eyes peering out at them.

"They're here to assess the threat the lycans pose," River says, breaking the thick, choking silence that has descended over the clearing. "And then they will decide whether to stay and help or not."

Imogen inclines her head. "Of course. We have some spare rooms if—"

"That won't be necessary," Ivar shuts her down at once, his features twisting as though he's smelt something awful. "We'll stay in the town we passed a few miles back."

River is wound tighter than a coil, his electric eyes snapping from Imogen to Ivar and the other hunters, desperate to catch any hint of violence before it can happen and plunge this clearing into a war zone. His fingers clench and unclench at his sides, as though desperate to feel the assuring hilt of his knives. I stand close enough for our shoulders to brush.

"What do you know about these lycanthropes?" Elias asks, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Ivar at the mere prospect of hearing us out.

Darius starts to explain the dire situation— his first encounter with the lycan that turned his daughter and took his beta, the numerous run-ins as they hunted his patrols, the confrontation where we realised there are two, not one, and the loss of Milo. He explains Imogen's research into Ferreus hunters and her belief that they are the only ones capable of helping.

As he speaks, I let my gaze drift over the hunters, charting a map of their unease— not that it proves difficult to decipher. Wariness is a fog rippling over them as they stare at the alpha and luna.

Towards the back of their group is Cassian. He's got a sleepy Hazel in his arms and Leo sticks like glue to his free side, peering at us tentatively. Despite his hands being full, the wary glint to Cassian's eyes makes it clear he's ready and willing to fight if it should come to that.

"Where was this?" Ivar asks once Darius finishes explaining our latest run-in with the lycanthropes.

"Around seven miles south-west, close to the lake. I can show you—"

"We'll find it," Elias cuts him off.

Ivar glances at his family over his shoulder. "I want you all to head out, sweep the area, see what you can find. If you find these lycans, kill them."

River crosses his arms and scowls. "It's not that simple," he grumbles.

Ivar returns his gaze with a cool, empty stare. "We shall see, won't we?" He turns to Imogen and says, "We have our own records of these creatures. I need to make a comparison between our notes and yours."

Imogen nods, though she looks a little lost at his close, piercing attention. "We can do that," she assents. "I've already instructed the patrols to stay clear of you, and they won't attack. The lycanthropes are the only threats here, you have my word."

"Your word is worthless to me," Ivar says with a fierce glare, his words setting the clearing alight with flames of tension. I wince against the fury that rises in Darius' expression and send him a warning look, but he only has eyes for Ivar.

"Then you have mine," River cuts in, his voice a soothing wave quelling those flames before they can catch.

Ivar meets my fated's gaze once more and a solemn understanding seems to pass between them. The rest of the hunters gaze out at the Lakeside pack and come to a swift conclusion. Ferreus hunters follow their duty and dispatch of threats— but the Lakeside pack isn't a threat. It's broken.

Killing them now would be a mercy, and Ferreus hunters are not merciful creatures.

Ivar nods sharply to the other hunters. Though it's getting late, and though we've just finished a long journey, most of the Ferreus hunters dutifully head back to their cars without complaint. They open the trunks and begin sombrely distributing weapons between themselves. I can smell the silver from here. Any werewolves brave enough to watch this confrontation from the safety of the woods abruptly back up out of sight and out of range, just in case. Kay and Matteo both shuffle a little closer to me and Lachlan settles into a casual yet defensive position— just in case. He clutches the books like a lifeline.

Instead of joining them, Cassian approaches with Leo and Max in tow, though they make sure to stay clear of any werewolves and hide behind his back for a little more cover. A silent exchange passes between Cassian and my fated, and without a word River holds out his arms to take Hazel from him.

"Stay with River, alright? We'll be back soon," Cassian tells Leo and Max.

Obediently, they dart to River's free side and peek out at the rest of us warily. Cassian shares another meaningful glance with my fated before turning his back on us and stalking for the others. Iris watches on, her brows furrowed, before joining him.

Even despite the rift torn between River and the Ferreus hunters, Cassian trusts him unconditionally with the children; a feat that catches me by surprise.

Yet another surprise is the way River's demeanour subtly changes. The wariness in his eyes, the scowl tugging at his features, the tension to his posture— all of it fades a little. His guard is still up, and he still stares at the Ferreus hunters as they arm themselves and stalk for the shadowed woods, but with Hazel resting her head on his shoulder battling sleep, with Leo clutching at his top and with Max staying close, he softens a fraction.

"He wants me to make sure none of you bite them," River explains in an undertone when he notices my curious gaze.

"Ah, I see."

"Do you remember his name?" he asks them. When his question is met with a chorus of shaking heads, he says, "This is Rowan. He's not going to hurt you, I promise. None of them are. They're very well-behaved. And that's Lachlan, Matteo, and Kay." As he points out the others, they give little waves in an effort to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"Letting them go alone is a mistake. Our patrols can help you," Darius insists, his voice tugging at my wandering focus. He's going to great effort to keep his features from twisting with distaste. At his side, Imogen watches the woods where the hunters disappeared, but it is as though they were never here. They've simply melted into the shadows.

Ivar levels his steely gaze on the alpha. "Do not criticise my choices, wolf, or you and I are going to have a problem. Keep your patrols away from us, or they'll end up becoming collateral damage."

Darius bristles; the fuse lit behind his eyes. "If you dare—"

With a sharp sigh, River strides down the no man's land between them for the house, startling them both from their fury and slicing a knife through the strings of their frustration. Like shadows, Leo and Max stick close to him.

Imogen clears her throat and sends a pointed glance towards Darius— possibly translating to something along the lines of 'whatever you do, don't provoke him'. Obediently, her fated backs down from the hunter's challenge.

"If you'll follow me," Imogen says to Ivar as she approaches to take the books from Lachlan, "I'll show you the rest of our notes on the lycanthropes."

Begrudgingly, and looking perhaps the furthest thing from comfortable, Ivar follows her inside, clutching his own journal close. The knife hilts on his belt glitter dangerously, enticingly.

As Darius and the rest of us head inside after them, Kay gives me a nudge and asks beneath their breath, "How'd it go? A bit like that?"

I pull a face and they stifle a laugh.

"You guys made it out alive, and that's all that matters," Teo decides. "It's a bonus you've got them with you."

Across the hall from the lounge, Imogen leads Ivar into the dining room. At a glance, I find stacks of books and notes littering the table's surface already. She must have devoted her day to research in the hopes of distracting herself from the possibility her only salvation may not return at all, let alone with support.

They settle down for a tense research session, the air thick with wariness, and my focus turns to where River has faltered outside the lounge, shadowed by Max and Leo.

"Have you got any more spare rooms for the little ones, Darius?" I ask the alpha. He nods with a soft frown and starts down the hallway only to falter at the sound of a protest.

"I'm not tired," Leo mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. His sister has already lost the battle.

"Of course you're not," River returns, sending me a blank look that has my lips quirking. He scowls lightly at me; Lachlan, Teo and Kay stifle laughs.

"I want to stay with River," Max says firmly, grabbing hold of Riv's arm as though we're going to tear him away.

"That's okay, you can stay with him," I assure him, keeping my voice soft. They haven't got a clue where they are or who they've been left with, and they cling to River like he's a beacon.

River leads the way into the lounge and we all follow, save for Darius, who lingers in the doorway to the dining room to keep an eye on his fated and the hunter. Riv gently deposits Hazel onto the sofa, contorting his way out of her sleepy grip as carefully as he can. Once he's managed to escape, he gestures for the boys to sit with a murmured assurance before heading to the window. He crosses his arms, rests his shoulder against the frame, and settles staring out at the dark woods. Leo and Max sit down and scour the room, checking for threats, and as one their focus falters at the bookcase in the corner. Something like longing flickers a timid candle's flame in their eyes before wariness smothers it.

My brows pinch and, as Lach, Kay and Teo settle down on the free sofa, softly discussing the chaotic day, I head over to the bookcase and start plucking out a few volumes. Once I've got a substantial pile of books I'd imagine a seven-and-eleven year old might enjoy, I walk back across the room — conscious of two curious pairs of eyes watching my every move — and put them down on the coffee table before joining River at the window.

He's tensed up, his piercing eyes locked on the shivering woodland. I can't tell if he longs to be out there fighting the lycanthropes or if he's merely awaiting the return of the others— but from the way he subtly relaxes as I settle next to him, his stern expression softening, I'd wager it's the latter.

For now, Imogen's soft tones and Ivar's gruff timbre give no indication of violence or threat, and though I devote myself to listening out just in case, I allow myself to relax for the first time since River suggested this plan.

"Are you alright?" I ask him in an undertone.

His silver gaze meets mine and a soft smile touches his lips. My focus lingers there for a blissful moment. "I am now," he assures me. "Are you?"

I nod. "I'm good. Do you think they'll help us?"

His brows pinch and his gaze retreats out the window once more. "They have to," he says, though I can't quite tell if he's trying to convince me or himself.

When I glance over my shoulder, I find Leo and Max have accepted my offering. They're sat with open books on their laps, fast losing themselves in the pages. Peace descends a soothing fog.

"I might get started on dinner, now you're all alive and well," Kay decides, breaking a comfortable silence— save for the gruff voice of Ivar as he discusses Imogen's notes and his own findings.

Matteo laughs softly and tells us, "They didn't want to do anything but wait for a text or call, today."

I smile, but it's quick to fall. Seeing their relief cresting like dawn across their features only makes the realisation that we might not have made it hit even harder. I hated scaring them by disappearing, but my duty is to River— especially when facing something as harrowing as his past. I would've rather died than leave him to face those hunters alone.

Kay rises with a stretch and leaves the room; Max and Leo glance up from their books to warily watch them go. And then, instead of returning to the pages, their curiosity leads them to Lachlan and Matteo.

Max frowns at them both and blurts out, "Do you bite people?"

"Would you bite us?" Leo asks, his eyes going wide as he shuffles back a little.

"No, of course not," Lachlan dismisses softly, his brows pinching. "It's a scary thing, getting bitten and becoming a wolf for the first time. I've seen it happen to a close friend, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Leo wrings his hands together and says in a timid voice, "My family are scary when they have their Hazes. Is it like that? They say I'll have one, too."

Matteo frowns. "Do you want that?"

Fervently, he shakes his head. At his side, Max's eyes go a little fogged as he stares down at the book in his hands, hounded by the looming shadow of his heritage.

After a long silence, he mumbles, "I don't want it to hurt."

Unbidden, I think of River's screams, the day we found him out in the woods, markings ablaze, a crossbow bolt lodged in his side, a pool of crimson on his shirt. An unpleasant shiver scuttles down my spine and my gaze lifts instinctively towards him. He's turned a little to regard the others, his brows furrowed, ghosts stirring in the depths of his eyes. He has aligned his Haze to his nature, wrangled it under his control instead of letting it control him, but I'll never be able to forget the way he looked when he first emerged from a Haze. Utterly terrified.

Lachlan swallows thickly and manages at last, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Max frowns at him and, though he doesn't say anything, I can see confusion flickering to life behind his gaze. Yes, we do, his eyes seem to say. I feel something heavy settle on my chest; this boy has been raised to see us as enemies. He carries a weight on his shoulders that is beyond his years. Like the rest of the Ferreus hunters, he shares similar features to River; dark, tousled hair, silver eyes electric with an unshakeable suspicion, but his skin is utterly free from markings and symbols and figures. He hasn't yet embarked on the same path as the elders in his family, and if River gets his way, he might not have to.

I hate the thought that River was a child just like him— wary, mistrusting, always on high alert. There was no one to reassure him that things would get better. Fear was his only option, and his only means of survival, as he was tugged down a path he didn't choose.

"He's right," he says, drawing their focus. "You've always got a choice. I know change can be scary, but sometimes, things need to change."

"Is that why you didn't come back?" Max asks him. "They said you were dead, like Esme and Myles and all the others."

River swallows thickly, and when he speaks, his voice is a little strained. "Yes. That place... it wasn't my home anymore, so I couldn't stay."

"Have you got a new one? A new home?" Leo questions, his wide eyes glistening.

Despite the echoing glint to River's eyes, a soft whisper of a smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he tells them, his gaze flickering to me before returning to them. "I found a new one."

I can't help smiling, either, as my wolf yips and wags his tail in the back of my head.

Lachlan coos and Matteo bats his lashes at us, making my smile stretch. River sends them both a sharp look but refrains from rebuking them. Instead, he clears his throat and tells Leo and Max, "Read your books."

Obediently, they do as they're told, and River turns to survey the dark woods once more.