At the alpha's words, the talk and laughter die.
Monty stands. "Dane? What do you mean, 'a fire?' What happened?"
The alpha doesn't answer, but stands with his hand over his mouth, staring at the ground.
"Dane!" Monty shouts, slamming his hand on the table and making the dishware rattle. "Tell us!"
Everyone startles, and the twins begin to cry.
Unaccustomed to the ways of small children, I do my best to shush them, fearful I'll be blamed for their distress.
The alpha takes a breath, lets his hand drop, and looks up at us all, amber eyes flashing in the dark.
"It's the house. Freya said the house burned to the ground."
"When?" someone asks.
"Last night, sometime. Freya said Sasha drove out there this morning and... found it in ashes."
"And Mom and Dad?" Monty asks.
The alpha hesitates, but answers without heat. "Freya said there's no sign of them. But if they were inside..."
"No."
Noah, the smaller Hunter, rises from his seat.
"No, Dane. You're their 'next.' If they were... Well, you'd know. You'd feel it." His expression wavers. "Wouldn't you?"
Dane shakes his head. "I don't know, Noah. I've been distracted lately, and... Gods, I don't know."
He covers his face with his hands, and his Fae mate touches his arm, offering gentle strength and support.
Meanwhile, the twins continue to whimper, their strange, mismatched eyes shining with uncertain tears, and I sing to them softly under my breath, hoping to distract them from their parents' distress.
"Down in the meadow, the foxes play,
And if they catch you, they'll take you away.
Little one, little one, cry no more;
the foxes are listening at the door."
It was something my mother would sing to me, I recall, but there's little comfort in the memory. The melody is sweet, though, and with no understanding of the ominous words, the twins quiet at the sound of my voice, turning their bright-eyed attention on me.
I sing as much to soothe myself as to comfort them; for at the news of a fire, my heart nearly froze with fear.
I try to tell myself that it could be an accident — that houses burn — but I know better, and alpha wolves don't just disappear.
The Hunter siblings and their friends continue to speak in low voices, expressing dismay, sympathy and grief. Even if their alphas are unharmed, they've lost their childhood home and everything in it.
"We have to go there," Noah states with quiet composure. "Ambrose and I can—"
"No," Dane interrupts, "I can't leave my territory unguarded. Especially now." He glances at me, and I wonder if the same dark thought that had entered my mind has also visited him. "I need some time to think. Let's all go home for now. Tomorrow... Tomorrow we'll decide what to do."
No one argues, and one by one the guests thank Grace and Chloe for the wonderful meal, and depart in a somber mood.
Monty stays behind to help with the clean-up, and I help as well, carrying dishes inside to the kitchen and drying the ones Grace washes.
No one says much until it's time to leave; then Grace packs up some leftovers for us, and with a final round of hugs (in which I'm somewhat awkwardly included) we depart.
At home, Monty goes about in a kind of daze, putting things away and preparing for sleep. I follow and do the same, not knowing how to comfort him. He's so absorbed in his thoughts, it's as if he's forgotten I'm here; and when he crawls into bed and turns out the light, I'm left standing stuck in uncertainty.
He'd insisted I take his bed while he'd slept on the couch; Even after claiming me, he'd only spent the one night at my side, not even touching me. I belonged to him now, body and soul, but he still treated me as a guest.
But now he'd retaken his bed, and he hadn't invited me to join him in it.
The couch would do. It might be cold and lonely, but it wasn't as if I hadn't spent many nights locked out-of-doors before — even in the snows of winter.
I've barely taken a step in that direction, though, when something makes me stop.
I know he doesn't believe his claim on me is more than words, but I also know better. I feel it in the little tug behind my ribs; I'd felt the same thing with Ferrault.
The difference is that while Ferrault's claim had disgusted me — chains forged in violence and violation — Monty's does not.
Monty's claim is gentle, warm, and soft. It demands nothing, but makes me want to go to him, to offer what I can, and to give him what he needs.
Right now, what it's telling me he needs is comfort.
Quiet and careful, I slip into bed at his side and curl against his back.
He turns halfway towards me.
"Oh, Kit... I'm sorry. I'm so wrapped in thoughts, I don't know what I'm doing."
He sits up, no doubt to cede his bed and return to the couch, but I catch at the hem of his shirt.
"I don't mind, if you don't mind," I say.
He hesitates, but then lies back down. "I don't mind."
In the darkness, I smile as I press into his warmth once more. Despite the worry and anxiety, another feeling rests in my heart — unfamiliar and strange, but welcome and precious, too.
This is home.
It's not this house, though; it's not a place at all.
It's the man at my side.
Even as this knowing comes to settle in my soul, a new fear flickers to life, smoldering like a spark in tinder; and as I fall asleep, memory melds into dream.
~ ☾ ~
"A dire? I thought they were extinct."
Selene stalks back and forth before the windows, her long blond hair catching the light as she turns.
"They are," alpha Obadiah answers. "Whatever this 'Ferrault' is making himself out to be, it's something else. But he can call it what he wants — the effect is the same."
"I've never seen a Wolf that size," Selene agrees, "and his 'alpha'..."
She shudders, hugging herself.
"Keep your legs crossed," Obadiah sneers. "He wants the fox. I wonder how he learned we had one?"
"I told him nothing," Selene snaps. "Kit showed himself, that's how."
I huddle closer to the outer wall, where I'm crouching beneath the open window in fox form, listening.
"No, I don't think so," my uncle returns, thoughtfully. "I think Ferrault tracked him here. Too bad; it's a shame to lose him just as he's coming ripe, but we can't risk the alliance. We don't want a dire — of whatever variety — as our enemy."
"What do you think he wants with him?" Selene asks.
Obadiah sniffs. "Don't be naïve."
"Hah! Hardly. You think after that cock-up with Hunter, I could be naïve? You're the one who arranged a marriage with a—"
"Don't disgrace yourself, Selene — more than you already have," Obadiah cuts in. "Think about it. If you hadn't botched your chance to kill that Fae, how strong you'd be now? How do you think Ferrault can claim the title of 'dire,' and how he's gained so much power so fast?"
"The Hunt? But that's—"
"Forbidden, yes. It wasn't always so. In the past, the Hunt is how an alpha rose; how he became great. To consume a heart of power is to take that power for one's own. Now, thanks to Wolves like the Hunters and their 'laws,' our kind grow soft. Vulnerable. Ferrault is an example of what we could be if we weren't afraid to embrace our natural rights. It's what we planned for Kit, anyway."
"You think he'll share?"
"He might — with a mate, perhaps. It's an exchange of power, after all."
"Hmm. 'Dire Selene.' I like the sound of it." She laughs.
"Nothing's settled yet; we must tread with care. We're stronger than most packs, but hardly invulnerable. There used to be half a dozen packs up north, led by at least as many alphas. Now there's just Ferrault."
"As you say, Uncle," Selene concedes. "But what shall we tell Kit?"
"The truth," Obadiah replies. "He belongs to Dire Ferrault now, and the dire may do with him as he sees fit..."
~ ☾ ~
I wake in a cold sweat.
I'd understood so little of what I'd overheard, then; even now, it was only beginning to make sense.
~ ☾ ~
"My dad's clan protected this land for a long time before Wolves showed up," the bear-man says gruffly. "We can take care of it for a few days while you're gone. Sammy too, of course."
We've reconvened for a meeting at the dragon's house, and sit gathered in a large room, where early morning sunlight streams through tall windows and into gilded motes of dust.
"I'll stay as well," Ambrose offers. "With a dragon, a demon, and a bear guarding it, I doubt anyone would dare set foot in your territory uninvited."
"Maybe I should stay, too," Julian suggests. "With the twins, traveling could be—"
"No," Dane growls. "I'm not letting you — or them — out of my sight. You come."
He puts authority in his voice, and any Wolf would submit at once, but the Fae seems unaffected.
He scowls and seems about to argue, but the alpha sighs and speaks again in a gentler tone.
"Please, Julian. I need you with me. Please."
The other man's expression softens. "Well, alright. I guess if you put it that way."
The alpha looks between Monty and his smaller brother. "No matter how well-guarded, I need a Wolf to stay here, to maintain the presence of the pack. Volunteers?"
"I'll stay," Noah says. "It's my right, as your second. If you'll allow me, that is."
Dane turns to Monty. "Noah has seniority, but you're elder, Monty. Do you object?"
Monty shakes his head. "Of course not. My place is at your side, brother."
At his words, fear shoots through me again, and I drop to my knees at Monty's side. I hadn't registered the full danger before, but now it strikes me hard. I can't decide which terrifies me more — the thought of being left behind, or of being taken into territory that may very well be under attack by the Wolf I dread more than death itself.
If it even is him behind this.
Maybe it's just a fire, I remind myself.
Accidents happen.
Houses burn.
Even alphas...
I don't allow myself to finish the thought, and instead choose the only course I can bear. Besides, if it is Ferrault, I know what he wants, and I can always give it to him.
"Please... Please don't leave me," I say, keeping my head bowed even as I cling to the fabric of Monty's trouser-leg. "Please take me with you."
A hand settles gently on my head, and Monty kneels at my side. "As long as you want to stay with me, you go where I go. You're my responsibility, remember?"
I look up at him.
His handsome face is earnest and open, his dark eyes narrowed with concern.
Then it hits me: what I fear isn't being left behind, or being taken into danger, or even the Hunters rejecting me.
What I really fear is that Monty will understand, and instead of kindness and concern, he'll look at me with revilement and hate.
And I wouldn't blame him one bit if he did.