4 - No Matter What

The rest of the day passes in a blur. I keep myself busy working with Rowan, Beau, Morgan and Lachlan, going over the pack's defences and making sure their security is airtight. The last thing I want is to leave my new home vulnerable to attack when I'm gone— especially given how much they sacrificed to help me back when Orion, Liliana and my mother descended with fury in their eyes and silver daggers in their grips, ready to tear this pack to shreds to make me pay for what I did to Myles.

An unpleasant shiver scuttles down my spine at the reminder. I don't regret what I did to Myles. Not when Orion shot my sister in the head for a bite that Rowan suspects would have simply healed if given the chance. Not when Myles tried to throw her body on a pile of burning werewolves before she'd even gone cold. Ferreus hunters are blinded by the legacy they cling to. I had been like that, too, until losing Esme snapped me out of that delusion.

I've killed people — innocent people — under the guise of that silver-choked legacy and name. Nothing can change that. Nothing can bring them back. Nothing can excuse the choices I made back when I thought there was no other way. But I can stop the Ferreus hunters from hurting any more innocent werewolves. I can stop them from killing any more people who don't deserve that fate— just like Esme didn't deserve it.

Matteo doesn't want to delay the journey to his former pack. He says it's a day's drive away, at least, and he wants to be on the road as soon as possible.

I must admit, I'm equally eager for a fight and dreading the idea of living amongst new werewolves. It took a lot for me to trust Rowan and his pack enough to feel comfortable here in their presence, and just when I've settled, that cursed duty within me longs to venture out of this comfort zone. Help Matteo with his hunter problem, then face my own hunter problem. Rid Teo's old pack of their enemies and turn my focus to the true threat.

When we arrive, I'll be closer to my old home than I ever wanted to be. When I turned my back and ran, all I wanted was to live apart from them. Now I'm returning of my own free will to take them out.

I don't have a plan, and that's the worst part. Every time I try and think of one, it falls apart in my hands, and I'm reminded again and again just how bad of an idea this is. It's dangerous and reckless and I'm putting Rowan's life at risk as well as my own. Lachlan, Matteo, and Kay's lives, too.

And yet, the thought of staying here, of burying my head in the sand until they find us, feels even worse. I'm caught between two nightmares, not knowing which is more damning. To die fighting or to be caught off-guard.

I want my fate — and my death — to be under my own control, not theirs.

The clothes I'm shoving into a backpack bear the brunt of my frustrations. Outside, the sun sinks towards the mountainous borders of Crescent Valley, casting sharp, jagged shadows across the hardwood floor. Golden sunlight spills across the bed sheets.

"You don't have to come with me," I blurt out, raising my gaze to Rowan.

He stands on the other side of our bed, folding jumpers and tucking them away into another bag with a hell of a lot more care than I'm displaying. His dark eyes lift to mine, flickering with something timid— embers shying away from harsh winds. He's leaving his home for me. The thought is a dagger in my gut, twisting and writhing. For his sake, I cannot mess this up.

"I know," he says, his melodic voice seeping through my mind like silk. Even without trying, he has my full attention. "But I promised you I'm with you, no matter what you choose. As long as you want me by your side, that's where I'll be."

I swallow thickly, a little choked at the devotion blazing in his eyes and lacing its way into his tone. His trust in me is unshakeable, even despite the numerous close calls— first with my suspicions and then with my Haze.

I trust him, too. I trust him to know exactly what he's getting into. I trust him to know the risks of following along with a hunter's whims.

And yet, I can't help but give him a little reminder. My brows furrow and there's a hard edge to my voice as I say, "They're dangerous, Rowan." I drop my gaze and shove another crumpled jumper away. The words come spilling— the real reason I'm so divided. "What if I'm making a mistake? Would you still come with me, then?"

He's quiet for so long that I risk a glance. Immediately, I wish I didn't. His features are alight with understanding yet weighted with grief. Gold streaks through his gaze, shimmering like liquid heartache.

"What if I let you go and you never come back to me?" he asks instead, holding out his hand for the bag. Caught off-guard, I hand it over and watch as he pulls everything out, folds it all, and arranges it neatly instead. "I know you're doing what you think is best, and I'm standing by your decision. I'm with you, River. Please don't push me away. You don't have to face them on your own."

I turn away and fetch the belt holding my collection of knives and throwing blades and shurikens from the nightstand. They're not silver, but they mean a lot to me. They're the set Rowan helped me find, shortly after the mess with Duskland and Ferreus hunters. The silver ones are tucked safely away in Rowan's office, just in case, but I've spent the past month learning these new knives from scratch. I pull one out and test the weight. It is an extension of myself— not too heavy, not too light. They do what I tell them to, and this time there's no risk of causing my new friends — my new family — unnecessary pain.

I won't need silver to take on these hunters bothering Teo's old pack, and I won't need silver to face the rest of the Ferreus hunters. All I need is my nerve, my knives, and Rowan unflinching at my back.

Pulled by habit, I tuck the knife against my ankle, ready for a viper-fast retrieval should trouble come my way. I bring the belt with the rest back to the bed and, when Rowan hands my bag back, I pack them away.

"You ready?" he asks, offering me a little smile; sparking embers.

"Are you?" I turn the spotlight right back at him, shouldering my bag and wandering around the bed until I stand before him.

"As I'll ever be." The intensity behind his gaze as he watches me approach takes hold of the fraying threads of my focus and tugs. He stares at me like I am a miracle made manifest— like I am a saviour, not a monster. It does pleasant things to my insides, that look of his. The one that makes it seem like he's memorising every inch of my features. The one that makes it seem like this is the last time he will set eyes upon me and he wants to savour every moment.

As always, though, he doesn't go any further than that look. He's attuned to my cues and my mannerisms; he knows what I like and what I don't. He does not rush, or crowd me against the bed or the wall, and he does not force his affections onto me. Instead, he waits patiently.

My brows crumple into an absent frown as I reach up to brush a stray curl from obscuring his dark eyes. The full force of the devotion blazing behind those gorgeous eyes of his hits me and the words come flowing. "I feel like I'm forcing you from your home," I admit, my gaze darting to the window as I check for nonexistent threats. Rowan takes away my armour bit by bit, and to make up for it, I become hyper-aware of my surroundings, not wanting to be caught off-guard with my knives sheathed.

Before I ran, back when life with Ferreus hunters was my only route, vulnerability meant weakness. It meant a painful end. Rowan makes me vulnerable, but he does not make me weak.

Ever so gently, giving me the time I need to back out if I want, he hooks a finger beneath my chin and directs my attention back on him. His lips twitch; my focus falters there. "It's not going to work, you know."

"What isn't?" I murmur, letting the gap between us become smaller and smaller.

His hand slowly slides to the back of my neck and his fingers bury into my hair— the gesture slow enough for me to guess his intentions. His eyes flutter closed and he tilts his head a little, his lips ghosting mine as he breathes, "Convincing me to stay behind."

Focus melts and seeps through my fingers.

A loud, announcing cough from down the hall startles us both. We jolt apart, our gazes darting as one to the door, which is open a crack. The thud of approaching footsteps is slow and purposeful.

"Please warn me if I need to close my eyes and preserve my modesty!" Beau calls.

With a sigh, and as a smile tugs at his lips, Rowan shoulders his own bag and says, "You're fine, Beau."

The beta appears in the doorway; one hand covering his eyes despite Rowan's assurances, and the other closed over the doorknob ready for a hasty retreat. He parts his fingers, peeks out, and drops his hand to reveal a grin.

"Sorry to disturb what sounded like a real sweet moment, there, but Kay's asked me to fetch you." In a smooth motion, the instant my lips twitch with a smile, he points at me. "Don't you dare."

"Good dog."

"Bastard," he says with resignation.

At that exact moment, Lachlan wanders past laughing to himself and adjusting a backpack on his shoulder. Beau is quick to chase after him, proclaiming that the gamma has taught me bad habits and, after sharing a brief look of longing and acquiescence, Rowan and I trail behind with our things.

We find Matteo and Kay waiting in the lounge with Morgan, packed up and ready to go. I don't want to think too hard about what we're doing and where we're going and what it means, so when Matteo asks who wants to drive first, I volunteer. I need a good distraction.

"Before you go," Morgan says, rising and approaching me and Rowan. In her hands, she holds a small medical kit. "It's got the essentials, just in case. Please be careful."

Rowan takes it from her and smiles appreciatively. "Thanks, Mor. We'll see you soon. Take care of this place for us, will you?"

She nods, and when I catch a glint in her eyes, I realise she's holding back tears. "Yeah, of course we will."

As we all head outside, there's a sombre fog enshrouding us all. Unease squirms in my gut; Crescent Valley has become my home and suddenly, desperately, I don't want to leave it behind.

News has spread like wildfire and there's a crowd of werewolves gathered in the clearing and spilling onto the trails to see us off. Well, to see Rowan off. An alpha werewolf leaving their territory must be a big deal for them, because they stare at him with wide, doe-like eyes as though this is the last time they'll ever see him.

As I toss my pack into the trunk of Matteo's car alongside Kay's, Rowan hugs Morgan then Beau, and they both vow to take care of Crescent Valley in our absence. They raise their gazes to mine and nod in acknowledgement. I'm not much of a hugger — the rare exception being when it is just Rowan and me and a desire for his touch to smooth out my concerns — and they respect my boundaries enough to know one would not be welcome even now. Even if this is the last time they see me. Even if I do not survive this fight.

"You'd better make this quick, stray," Beau tells me, sporting his usual buoyant grin even as his brows pinch with something dangerously close to concern. "Give them hell and come back here so I can kick your ass in training again, alright?"

"Keep dreaming," I retort, ducking into the driver's seat and swallowing an unexpected lump at the back of my throat.

I ran from my last home and my last family. All I wanted was to survive, to escape. The thought of leaving my new home — my new family — strikes me hard, and for a moment my dedication wavers. But I look out at them all, wide-eyed and grieving, and I know what I must do.

Ferreus hunters are a lurking shadow on the edge of this picturesque haven I've stumbled upon. I can't let them destroy it. I won't.