Butterfly in the Sky (BOOK 1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"I can't believe Timothy has us all the way in Canada," Stefan Keen grimaces, his body swaying with the van as it drives over every bump and groove in the road. "Fucking Canada of all places."

The man next to him, Oggy Forps, shrugs and leans against the seat. "He's fucking mental. And why the hell is he taking orders from some chick. We don't even know her and I bet he lied about her being some type of hunter."

Stefan scoffs. "Don't even get me started on the bossy bitch. Aye, she makes me want to drill my head into the ground like an ostrich."

The two laugh, mumbling about how crazy each would look with their heads in the ground. The other passengers refrain from humoring them, discouraged looks on their faces. Normal clothes clad their body, making it seem as if they're going on a fun weekend road trip. It's far from that though.

The van becomes quiet as Stefan and Oggy stop talking. A chill now encompasses the atmosphere, sadness seeping out of every single warrior in the van. Stiff shoulders slump every once in a while, discouraged glances being made often. Hands are restless as they push through thick and thin locks of hair. None of them look the least bit happy or excited.

Not when they're on their way to capture their alpha.

"No," I whisper, finally realizing that this is not good. These are warriors from my pack and they're coming to retrieve us.

How can they possibly be here so fast? It's impossible when I was just a fly on the wall for Ameri and Timothy's conversation. This would mean they've had the plan to come here for a while. That's not right because they couldn't know about Canada.

Dream, I'm dreaming. Squeezing the skin of my arm between two fingers, I wait for my body to be pulled to consciousness. Shutting my eyes, I stand by for the familiarity of waking up. I've only passed out about a thousand times now, so this should be the easy part. But when I open my eyes, I'm still in the van. My body still shakes and slides from the movement.

"Wake up!" I shriek. "Just wake up."

Closing my eyes again, I take deep breaths. Approaching this with a calm head is what I need to do. Panicking won't get me anywhere and I can feel my passageways starting to constrict.

"Wake up." My tone is softer this time, more of a plea for my subconscious to comply and give me this one wish.

When I open my eyes, I'm laying on Cytherea's couch. Two mates sit in front of me, their gazes guilty as they stare away from each other. Rory twiddles his thumbs then lifts a hand to wipe at a stray tear. Alexei sits calm and still, but I notice how tense she is. Her hands are clenched in her lap, veins peeking through.

As I sit up, their heads move in my direction. Rory's eyes are even more red than I thought and his face is slick with tears. He's the first to come over to me, his hands pressed together in a pleading gesture. Sitting himself on the couch, he lays down, forcing his head into my lap. His face presses into my stomach, causing his nose to slightly tickle me as he burrows against me.

I press a hand to his head, brushing his hair away. "It's not your fault," I start, "it's neither of your faults."

Alexei scoffs and shakes her head. Crossing her arms, she cautiously makes her way over to me. I'd have to be blind to not notice her hesitance to come over. She stops in front of me and her next actions surprise me completely. Taking my face into her hands, she kisses me. It's like she sucks the air out of my body, out of my being. Our affection has been limited because of the situation we're in, but this couldn't have happened at a more perfect time.

"Don't," Alexei pauses, pulling her face away from mine. "Don't do that again."

Giddiness seeps from my pores and I giggle at her command. "It's normal now, isn't it? All I ever do is faint, I think that's what I do most of the time."