Curse of Ferreus

30 - Si Vis Pacem

Our luck runs dry as we find the others arranged in a careful display of indifference in the kitchen.

Lachlan is sat at the dining table with documents strewn about him. He appears lost to his work, brows furrowed, and scratches down some notes. Morgan's with him, only she seems entirely focused on rearranging the vials of her healing kit.

They're most definitely avoiding our gazes on purpose, but at least they're not quite so coy as Beau.

The beta is lounged at the island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a nascent smile on his face. Mischief twinkles in his eyes.

"Fun night?" he asks innocently. The others bite their lips and keep their gazes down, fighting a losing battle with their facial features.

I cross my arms as Rowan heads for the kitchen. "I know all the places to cut to make you bleed out slowly and painfully," I remind Beau, my voice like a knife glinting in the dark.

His smile stretches to a grin. "Is this your version of talking dirty, stray?"

The glare I send him is scathing.

Rowan quickly intervenes before I can set his beta on fire through gaze alone. He turns to face them holding a box of cereal, which makes his command seem a little less commanding than I think he's going for. "Get it out of your systems, because we need to figure out what to do about the hunters. Go on. Fawn. You have five seconds."

At once, all three of them explode with exclamations and coos and adoring looks that make me want to recoil but, true to his word, Rowan cuts them off right on time.

"Enough!" he says, making up two bowls and pouring a generous serving of milk in each. "We're not taking questions and if you so much as smirk at us, I'm going to let River rain hellfire on you all and I'll cheer him on. We're focusing on the hunters, and then we can talk about the need to ask permission before entering a bedroom. Understood?"

They're obedient and quiet for a grand total of ten seconds— just long enough for Rowan and me to settle at the table with our breakfast.

"You should've locked the door," Beau quips. "Or put a sock on the handle, or something. A bit of a warning."

To my defence, I'd planned to pack up and leave, last night. There was no way I could've anticipated our conversation turning into... well, that.

"We'll remember for next time," I dismiss, trying fervently to hide a smile as Rowan's controlled exterior cracks and he almost chokes on his cereal.

He composes himself soon enough, but by then the others are already grinning.

I find my gaze drifting to the window and the clearing beyond, distorted behind thick raindrops. In the wash of morning light, it looks deceptively quaint and beautiful, with trees swaying in an idle breeze and birds flitting between branches, hiding from the rain. Streams of eager sunlight filter through the leaves, casting speckled, honeyed beams across the forest floor.

There's no sign of the bodies, and the rain is washing away all the blood.

My appetite is abruptly gone, but I force myself to eat— I'll need energy for whatever comes next.

"What happens now they're dead? How does this work?" I wonder aloud.

Rowan sent some werewolves to claim back their land, last night. I can't even appreciate the weight of Duskland being lifted off my shoulders, because my family are still lurking out there somewhere. They're only dead because I fell into a Haze.

Lachlan stretches back against his seat and tells me, "They brought their strongest, yesterday. No doubt Alessandro had something up his sleeve— and if he didn't wrestle an advantage over you, he would've found another way. I know it probably doesn't seem like it, but you saved our asses. Now they're gone, I doubt the wolves that are left will rally and come looking for revenge. There's still the hunters for them to worry about and, without their leaders, they have no system. No order. We've already had a few find their way here during the night, asking for sanctuary. The rest will flee and find new homes, new packs, new lives."