Chapter 195

[ 1,479 words ]

Sage

If you ever told me I’d be living in a shifter pack waiting for my son to finish scent training, then I would have told you to lay off the vicadins.

But, in this rapid turn of events, not only do I find myself living here, I find that I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would.

“I always get so anxious when they take them out into the woods for scenting,” Miranda says, bouncing a little on her toes.

She is a submissive and generally more prone to worry than most people.

I pat her arm, hoping to reassure her. “They will be fine. The enforcers will keep them safe, and this is what they’re training for: to learn to keep themselves safe.”

“You’re right, I’m just getting myself wound up.”

“That’s completely normal. You just got Ashlynn back; it’s normal to still be affected by everything.”

Lord knows I am. I’m just better and shoving that linky feeling down and carrying on.

I’m an expert at it.

We get the first wave of kids breaking through the tree lines, all with blindfolds tied around them.

Dante is among the group, towering over his age mate by at least a head.

Another group follows, and I see Ashlynn among them.

I look over at Miranda. “You see. She did good.”

IIya strolls out of the woods, calling out to the children. “Blindfolds off.” The juveniles take off their blindfolds. “Congratulations. You passed your first test. But don’t get cocky; this is the easiest one you’ll have.”

Sigrid joins him. “Dismissed. And don’t cause trouble for your parents.”

Dante finds me quickly pairing up with Ashlynn as they head to us.

“Good job, you two,” I say. “I have some pastries ready at the house if you guys want them.”

“I would never say no to your croissants,” Ashlyn says.

“We’ll have to eat and run tho because we’re heading over to Jessie’s to hang out,” Dante says.

I raise my brow, doing my best to ignore IIya making his way towards us. “Oh, you are, are you?”

Dante flushes. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, of course.”

It’s hard on my facade, and I crumble like a tower of cards. “Just be back before dark.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Um, but first we should get those croissants.”

“Are you feeding students sugar again?” IIya asks with his signature stoic look.

Miranda looks between me and IIya but thankfully keeps any thoughts she has to herself.

“You’re off duty, so any hyperactivity is left for the parents to deal with,” I say.

Miranda gives me a look like we are going to talk about that later before kissing Ashlynn and excusing herself.

IIya has been around more than he hasn’t. So far, Dante hasn’t mentioned anything.

We get to the house, and I load them up with the hoard of baked goods, mostly recipes I’m working on, and send them on their way.

So far, IIya and I haven’t spoken about what he said.

He hasn’t really tried anything either.

He’s just sort of …taken up space.

Like now, when he takes a seat at the island instead of heading out.

“You didn’t go to the cafe today.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m having the floors deep cleaned.”

Without realizing what I’m doing, I make him a cup of coffee and set it down in front of him.

“Did you think about what I said?” he asks, looking at me over the rim of his cup.

I blink. “Was I supposed to?”

“It would be helpful to know what’s stopping you?”

“Stopping me? From what?”

The cup is placed down on the counter without a sound. Not menacing, but pointed. “From accepting my claim on you?”

My pulse spikes. He says it like it’s a fact, an immovable, irrefutable element of existence.

“What claim? You said you were attracted—”

“Wanted you,” he corrects. “I want you. Is that not a claim?”

He stands, and I hold my stance, my natural inclination to fight taking over. “I…what the hell are you talking about?”

“A claim. Where we are together in a relationship, and no other male is allowed to have you.”

“You don’t even know me,” I say.

“I’ll get to know you,” he retorts.

“I don’t date.” Which is true. I don’t.

“Call it whatever you want. I don’t care,” he says, stepping around the table and coming closer.

I hold up my hand. “Okay, stop. Let’s just slow all of this down for a moment. Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t just come up to me and decide we’re going to be together. What if I don’t want you?”

“Do you?” he asks.

Put on the spot, I temporarily freeze.

Sure, IIya isn’t ugly by any means, and sleeping with him won’t exactly be a hardship. But to want something more than his body isn’t something I’ve considered.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t really do relationships, and I haven’t…” Ugh, this is so uncomfortable, but I can tell he isn’t going to let it go. “I haven’t even been with a man who isn’t human since Lorenzo.”

IIya’s eyes flash wolf, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much emotion in his eyes. “So, let me be your last.”

My legs root to the spot. I watch his large hand come up, feel the brush of his hard knuckles along my cheek. The touch is as exploratory as it is filled with wonder and curiosity.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper.

“Neither do I. But I don’t need to. Not right now. Not when my wolf is telling me he wants you; he needs you just as badly as I do.”

“Dante—”

“Will be fine. I won’t rush you. We’ll move at your pace. I just want your understanding that we are something, and that the goal is to be a part of each other’s lives.”

Damn, he’s smooth for a man that doesn’t say much.

He crowds my space, and suddenly I wish I had some type of flight response because the heady haziness in my mind is disrupting my thoughts. The closer he is, the more it clouds me.

My head tilts up so I can keep the connection of our eyes.

“I need time to think.”

“Take all the time—”

A sharp crack splits through the air, thundering across the ground. Instinct and experience have me ignoring the defining hum in my ears and reaching for my firearm hidden beneath that kitchen table.

A bomb.

Someone set off a fucking bomb on the property.

I run to the door, only a step behind IIya.

Another crack blasts through the air, and I watch as homes crumble to the ground.

“Stay inside,” IIya shouts, moving towards the blast.

As if.

I disregard him, and as I get closer to the chaos, I realize that the explosion is in the area where all the juveniles are.

People are running in the opposite direction, some cradling burn wounds.

The air becomes thick with soot and smoke. Spits of fire lick the grass and the broken-off pieces of wood from cabins.

Fuck, I hope no one was inside.

I watch the gathering of people; it is almost impossible to make out who’s coming and who is going.

A knowing pulls at my mind, and I make a beeline for the woods behind it.

Memories of dark tactics and the inhumanity of war drive me to the vilest possibilities, and I feel the part of me that is human shut down.

The smell of burning flesh reaches me along with shouts.

Elliot orders people to get inside the safe house, and Sigrid directs the enforcers while his mate, Kiara, leads the medical teams.

I move around the trees, keeping my footsteps silent, even.

I stop on instinct and listen.

Blocking out the voices of my pack, I turn towards the forest.

Second go by, and my training is the only thing keeping me where I am.

There is a snap, followed by a muffled shuffling that is too careful to be natural.

I hold my position, giving whoever it is the opportunity to give away their location.

Another crinkle to the left. And another.

Moving away from the pack.

There is a muted cry, a cry too soft, too young.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

“Shut up, you brat,” a harsh voice hisses.

I’ve heard enough.

I twist and steel myself for whatever I’m about to see.

A male moves away from me, holding an infant in his arms while another holds a toddler punishingly tight, his meaty hand over her mouth.

I doubt they’re the only ones in the woods, but I can’t run back for reinforcement.

I do the only thing I can.

I take a shot.

In seconds, the man holding the toddler falls to the ground backwards.

I know the shot will be enough to alert someone to my presence; I just have to hold ground until then.

The toddler goes with him, screaming as she falls on top of him. The other man whirls around.

I run out into the open, aiming at him as he goes to snatch the girl.

“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” I warn, stepping closer to the distraught girl.

“Now’s that funny,” a voice says from behind me, “I was just about to tell you the same thing.”

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