5 - Restless

The world rushes by in a blur of emerald and asphalt. Music whispers through the radio and a cool breeze stirs in the car, hissing through a window cracked open in the back and carrying with it the pleasant scent of moss and dew and earth. The sun slides effortlessly towards the horizon, slipping behind the canopy of swaying trees and casting speckled, glimmering shards of amber and lilac across the road. Shadows descend. The engine hums steadily in tune to the music— more resilient than the car I stole back when I first arrived in Crescent Valley. More trustworthy by a long shot.

Rowan is sprawled elegantly in the passenger seat, idly studying the forest that shoots past. In the back, Kay, Matteo and Lachlan sit in quiet stupor, lulled by the engine and the whistling breeze. The only light is the dull glow from Lachlan's phone secured to the dash, pointing out directions.

It has been hours, and yet I've brushed off every attempt to swap the driver's seat. It keeps me busy and stops me thinking— and overthinking. They've stopped asking, now, and no one can conceal their yawns.

I've been awake for so long that my mind feels electric and numb at the same time— as though my senses are razor sharp yet I'm experiencing them through static. It's a strange sensation, but a welcome one. Exhaustion keeps the nerves at bay.

I'm retracing the steps I made back when I ran from the only life I ever knew— a life that was falling apart in my bloodstained hands. Willingly driving back towards that nightmare feels inherently wrong, and yet the thought of turning around, of leaving Matteo and the others to fight these hunters on their own, of leaving the Ferreus hunters — the true threats — to their own devices, is even worse.

I know what they're capable of. I know I'm the only one who can stop them because I was one of them. I know their tells and their cues and their training.

Rowan shifts a little, stretching as well as he can. I feel his eyes on me. I know what's coming and brace myself. "You sure you don't want a break?"

"I'm good," I say, just as I have every other time.

He glances, briefly, towards the back of the car— perhaps for support.

Lachlan yawns and muses, "We'll have to stop soon, anyway. I'm starving and tired and I am not sleeping in here."

"Please don't talk about food. I'm so hungry," Kay whines, tipping their head back against the seat with a forlorn little sigh. Given their frame is smaller than Lachlan's and Matteo's, they've been forced into the middle seat and they don't look happy about it. When an unruly, tousled strand of dark hair blows across their eyes — courtesy of the wind — their brows pinch and they attempt, with little success, to blow it away.

Since the road stretches out in a seemingly endless line, Rowan takes the phone from the dash and taps away without risk of me missing a turning. "There's a motel close by. Twenty minutes. Thoughts?"

"Absolutely," Matteo agrees at once, closing the window to save the wind from driving Kay insane. "At this rate, we'll get to Darius' in the middle of the night. Let's set up somewhere, get some food and some sleep, and carry on in the morning."

As Kay and Lachlan murmur assent, Rowan returns the phone to the dash— this time with the new directions set up. I follow them begrudgingly, figuring the break will only lead to another sleepless night with churning thoughts of plans and backups. I'd rather drive.

– ➶ –

We leave the forest-lined empty roads for a small town heaving with activity— car horns blaring, voices shouting, music thumping, sirens wailing. The onslaught makes me wary after hours of peace and quiet, and I can tell I'm not the only one glad to see the neon sign proclaiming vacancies outside the motel when at last I pull in, leaving the urban maze behind. The moment I've parked up and shut off the engine, Kay shoos Matteo outside and darts out after him. They both head into an office shining like a beacon, only to return within minutes with matching grins and a key.

Obediently, the rest of us get out the car, stretch our stiff limbs, grab our bags, and follow them along the rows of doors for our own.

I'm grouchy from exhaustion and I'm expecting this motel room to be just as miserable as I am— but I'm pleasantly surprised. On such short notice, Kay and Teo have managed to get us a room nestled in the middle of the complex with two double beds against one wall, a sofa and two armchairs stuffed in a corner by the window, and a door leading into a small but pleasant bathroom.

Wandering past me, Lachlan hums. "Not bad."

"Not bad at all," Kay returns with a smile, crossing their arms and appraising the place. "Right— I'm starving. Any preferences?"

"I trust your judgement," Rowan tells them, heading for the window to draw the curtains, but making sure to leave a slight gap for keeping watch.

Kay wastes no time in ushering Matteo out of the door, on a desperate quest for food.

As the door clicks shut behind them, I take a few moments to survey the room for any obvious problems, for escape routes, and for security. The door has a latch and a lock— both of which I make use of. The window is sealed shut. Only one exit point, then. My brows furrow as I consider a plethora of scenarios in which I'd have to make a quick getaway and the routes I'd take.

"What's your verdict?" Rowan asks, wandering over as Lachlan disappears into the bathroom.

I pull a face. "It'll do, I guess. I could've carried on driving, you know."

His own features crack a little with discomfort. "I know. But I also know you haven't slept well for days, River. You need a break."

As I bristle a little, backing into my comfort zone of suspicion and knife edges and wariness, he matches my retreat with a steadfast advance.

"Get some rest," he suggests softly, brushing a few stray strands of hair from obscuring my eyes. "I'll wake you up when they get back. We're safe here, I promise. I'll make sure of it."

I search his eyes and find nothing but devotion. My defence crumbles beneath his honeyed gaze and his vow. With a nod of defeat, and figuring that he will be able to hear threats from a mile away, I drop my bag down by the side of the bed closest to the door, pull off my shoes and set my knife on the nightstand, and fall beneath the sheets.

I only mean to rest my eyes, but the sheets are like a warm, soft embrace and before I know it, I'm falling fast.

True to his word, Rowan gently coaxes me awake as Lachlan unlocks the door for Kay and Teo, who bustle into the room clutching takeout boxes.

"Pizza," Kay proclaims, holding their box up like a trophy. "Don't give me that look, Lachlan, it was the only place open."

As they distribute the boxes between us all, we settle down— with Rowan and me lounging on one bed and Kay, Lach and Teo sat on the other. I dive into the food like a man starved.

"We've come quite far," Matteo muses, breaking the comfortable silence that has descended between us. "I reckon we should get there by mid-afternoon, tomorrow. Then we can let the chaos commence."

Kay gives a dramatic little shudder. "Why is it always hunters? No offence, Riv."

"None taken," I dismiss, most of my focus devoted to the food before me.

"I have to say," Lachlan muses, "I am not looking forward to spending any more time in that car."

"What's wrong with my car?" Teo taunts him, sending the gamma a warning look softened only by the humour sparking behind his gaze.

Kay gives him a nudge. "It's you he can't stand, not your precious car."

As the pair descend into bickering, trying to figure out who is more annoying than the other and only succeeding in evening the playing field, Lachlan grins, happy with the chaos he has caused. I watch them, the nascent smile on my face faltering as I'm reminded of my sister and our own jibes at one another. Grief fractures my good mood.

Rowan rolls his eyes lightly at them, a smile tugging at his lips. "That's enough," he says. "Once we're finished, you should all try and get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

"I'll take second," Kay decides with a shrug.

"Third," Teo adds.

"I'll take the last watch," Lachlan finalises, catching my lost gaze. "You drove all this way, so it's only fair."

I frown, but before I can argue, Kay tells me, "Don't worry, Riv, nothing can get past our ears. If I focus hard enough, I can probably hear a gnat scratch its ass through a wall."

A startled little laugh rushes out of me. "Wait, seriously?"

They all nod earnestly and Matteo says, "To be fair, the walls here are real thin. You really don't want to know what's happening two doors down."

I grimace, making them all laugh. "I can imagine."

"Now for the real issue— who's having this bed?" Lach asks, the spark of a challenge flickering in his eyes. His question is met with another wave of bickering.

Rowan and I share a hapless glance before I grab the toothbrush from my bag and disappear into the bathroom to sort myself out. By the time I emerge, the others have reached a tentative truce, with Kay sitting victoriously on the bed and Lachlan and Teo sulking on the sofa.

Slipping beneath the sheets once more, I close my eyes and fall fast with the reassurance of having my family close by, watching my back.

The night is a bit of a blur. I wake a few times— not because of my company, but rather out of instinct. The first time I surface, it's pitch black except for the crack Rowan left in the curtains, with a streetlight just outside casting harsh shadows across the floor. I lie in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. For a bleary moment, I wonder where exactly I am, and then I hear murmurs. Familiar ones that ease my concern as surely as a light flickering on in the dark. Rowan and Kay. I catch the vague outline of their figures sat in two armchairs pulled up close to the window, reclined leisurely. There's a slump form on the sofa and another sprawled on the other bed— Lachlan and Matteo. I'm okay. I'm safe.

When I wake once more, it's to the sensation of the bed shifting beneath me. As I crack my eyes open, I find a dark figure trying his best to be careful, and an accompanying wave of his cinnamon-and-musk scent puts me at ease. On the other side of the room, Matteo stretches out on an armchair, his gaze locked attentively out the window. Kay is pulling back the sheets to the spare bed.

"Sorry, love," Rowan whispers when he realises he's woken me up despite his best efforts. He settles and I shuffle a little closer, keen for his familiarity in this motel room in the middle of nowhere.

I fall asleep in his arms, wake and roll out of them, only to find my way back into his embrace in my sleep— on and on the cycle continues, as though I can't decide whether I'd like the comfort of his embrace or the security of being able to leap up unhindered at a moment's notice. The night is punctuated with disruptions.

I dream of the Ferreus hunters. They're lurking in tree branches, waiting to ambush Rowan and his pack, and he won't listen no matter how many times I warn him. They descend, led by a bloodied, vengeful Orion. Chaos. Blood. Growls and snarls and shouts and slashing silver and piercing claws and—

Startling awake to the sensation of a hand lightly grasping my arm, my own hand is already darting beneath the pillow for the comforting hilt of my knife. It's not there. Fuck.

Unarmed but not yet defenceless, I turn quickly to face the threat head-on, only for my onslaught to stutter to a stop.

Bleary panic gives way to hazy realisation. The hand belongs to Rowan, sleep-tousled and frowning softly at me. I'm not in danger. Orion's not here— he's dead. I killed him.

The motel room is bathed in the cool light of morning. The other bed is a mess of ruffled sheets and Kay lies in the midst of it all, lips slightly parted in unabashed sleep, their short dark hair falling like a tousled halo around their pale face. Stretched out on an armchair, Lachlan idly surveys the world outside the window and I can hear the flush of a toilet through the thin wall separating us from the attached bathroom.

With a sigh, I melt back against the sheets and cover my face, willing my thundering heart to calm. No doubt Rowan can hear it. No doubt all of them can.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Rowan murmurs. I feel him lie down once more, and the proximity of his warmth, the fog of his comforting scent, does more to calm me than my own futile efforts. "You okay?"

I'm a live wire. A touchy explosive. A danger to be around. The mere thought of Ferreus hunters and I'm a mess rendered hysterical from a mere dream.

But I nod regardless. If I don't do this now, I never will.

"Want to talk about it?"

Vaguely, as I come awake properly, I wonder what gave away my distress to him— if perhaps I made a noise or if he's simply so tuned in to me that he knows by the crumple of my brow, the tension of my form, the rhythm of my breathing, that something is wrong.

"When are we leaving?" I ask instead, sitting up and tugging my hands through my unruly hair in a futile attempt to neaten it. My stomach makes a whining plea for my attention. I cast my gaze across the room and find my knife exactly where I left it on the nightstand. Without conscious thought, I pick it up and set it down on my lap— just in case.

Rowan accepts my deflection. "Whenever Kay wakes up, I suppose." He gets out of bed and pads softly across the room for the free armchair on which lies a takeout bag. He fetches it and returns to my side, offering it with a little smile.

One of them must have fetched an early breakfast for us, I muse, taking the bag from him and diving in.

Lachlan stretches with a yawn, tugging at my attention. "Teo's said he'll drive," he tells us, peering at us over his shoulder. "He says it'll be better for them to see him first— otherwise, we're asking for trouble."

Of course. Werewolf politics is complicated and primal and Rowan's pack seems to be the exception.

On cue, and perhaps having heard him, Matteo emerges from the bathroom. "I would've told Darius you were all coming, but he's not answering my calls."

That has me perking up. "You think he's in trouble?"

"Difficult to say," he returns, falling onto the sofa with a sigh. "He's... well, it takes a lot for him to ask for help. He doesn't want to seem weak or incapable, so I'm guessing he's too focused on his own pack to check in with reinforcements. Even still, I'd like to get over there soon. I grew up with that pack and I... I don't like the thought of them in danger."

Rowan nods thoughtfully. "Of course not. We can set off now, if you'd like."

Matteo's gaze flickers to Kay and back and his lips twitch with a little smile. "You're asking me to invoke their wrath, aren't you?"

Rowan gives a helpless shrug. "Hey, they're not my fated."

Besides, I muse, Rowan has already faced enough wrath waking me up.

As Matteo sets about trying to wake Kay up, and as Lachlan and Rowan begin to pack for a hasty retreat, I finish off the food and take my backpack and knife into the bathroom to get ready and freshen up.

Once I'm dressed, I study my reflection. Dark, tousled hair obscuring piercing silver eyes; lithe form concealed behind casual clothes; lichtenberg figures proclaiming my abandoned legacy hidden away. I don't want to appear threatening from the outset and give these unfamiliar wolves a reason to attack, but there's only so much I can tone down the general aura of danger that clings to me like a second skin. Perhaps another hunter would manage it — that inconspicuous look — but chained to the Ferreus name, my heritage demands I stick out as a threat. I might as well have a warning sign stamped on my forehead: dangerous, approach at your own risk.

Just as I cannot change my eyes or tear the markings from my skin, I cannot help the desire for a weapon close by. I tuck the knife against my ankle, hidden beneath my jeans but there, pressed comfortingly against me, ready and willing if I need it.

When I emerge, bag slung over my shoulder, I find Matteo has been successful in his mission to wake Kay, who hasn't murdered him yet but looks sorely tempted. I know the expression well. They sit with crossed arms, blinking blearily, a vague scowl settled over their soft features even as humour sparkles in their emerald eyes.

Not ten minutes later, after Rowan has wrangled the others into getting ready, we're leaving the motel behind in favour of Matteo's car. He wanders ahead and Kay walks with a bounce to their step at his side, demanding details on the pack.

Lachlan stifles a yawn and catches my and Rowan's gazes. "You ready for this?"

I roll my shoulders as though in preparation for a brutal fight and my awareness flickers briefly down to the assuring knife tucked against my ankle. "As I'll ever be."

A smile touches Rowan's lips as he regards me. "You realise this whole hunting hunters thing is becoming a habit of ours, right?"

"Would you rather I went back to the old habits?" I quip.

"Definitely not," he returns with a laugh.

"Given you're stuck in a car with the likes of us for hours on end, I'm surprised you haven't already snapped and threatened to kill us all," Lachlan muses with an easy grin, wandering ahead and adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

Lightly, I roll my eyes and follow after him with Rowan at my side. "There's still time."