This chapter has a trigger warning for references to sexual assault.
There were four of us in the car, and no one was talking. Total silence — for the entire journey back. But it was just a combination of exhaustion and individual contemplation. I was worrying about Fion and whether she was pregnant, Leo was miserable about his parents, and Ollie was working on a new patrol schedule.
Only Rhys was a cause for concern — quietly fuming as his bruises darkened. The injuries were entirely his own fault. He had taken an angry swing at Jace after hearing that I'd been attacked. It had taken seven men to separate them once they had got going, and not without significant damage to both.
We arrived back at camp in decent time, despite the rush-hour traffic on the main roads. I got out of the car and caught my brother's arm before he could slip away. "Rhys?"
"Yeah? Can I go back and kill those shitheads?" he asked immediately.
"Can I help?" Leo added. He had seen the full story through the link, and the anger hadn't stopped rolling back across since.
"No and no. I just want to know where Fion is."
Rhys replied — because of course he knew — with, "Firewood rota. She'll be back in an hour."
I looked to my mate. "Looks like we have some time to kill."
"Yes. We have some time to kill Bradley and Ryan," Rhys interrupted before Leo could open his mouth.
"You know them?" I didn't recall mentioning any names for this exact reason.
A vague nod. "They'll wish I didn't soon enough."
Well, shit. That was more danger than it was worth. I, personally, felt the fire hose had avenged me. I hadn't even considered that my family might want retribution of their own.
"Don't" —I poked his chest— "you" —another poke— "dare." I kept my tone mild but packed with enough force that he would listen.
Rhys caught my hand and tipped his head to the side, a motion that was so purely not wolf that I frowned. He offered me a hollow promise. "I'll think about it."
"I'm not kidding, Rhys. If I wanted them dead, I'd have damn well done it myself. So no one touches them." I finally turned back to my mate. "Now, Leo — you up for a walk?"
"Sure."
I half-expected Rhys to kick up a fuss, but he just stared into empty space. Too distracted to argue as soon as the subject had changed. I would definitely have to keep an eye on him, if only to stop him wrecking our alliance with the packs. Ollie stood silently by, and I hoped my pleading glance conveyed that he should follow Rhys like a lost puppy until his mood improved.
And then it was only a matter of finding where Fion's scent trail began and picking a tree to climb while I waited for her to retrace her steps. I found some low branches and used them to pull myself into a fork. It was strong enough to take both of our weights, as Leo proved when he settled next to me.
We could see camp, but I doubted they could see us. So it was a good vantage point to watch people come and go. I saw the packs of children roaming the tents, playing what looked like hide and seek. I watched the fighters train against each other. I listened to the laughter and the rowdy shouting and remembered a time when I had been a part of it all.
"I don't know your surname," I pointed out after a while. "We've shared a bed, and I don't even know your surname, and it's never mattered because I never needed to."
He nodded. "It's true that we — rogues, I mean — don't really use our second names. Except for the Llewellyns, of course. You lot make sure to boast your heritage at the top of your lungs."
"Hey! We're just proud, that's all."
"Don't I know it," Leo muttered sarcastically.
"So what's your surname?"
"Morgan. Leo Morgan. I turned twenty in August. And I don't think there's anything else you don't know about me."
I had heard of the Morgans. They were a family descended from the Alpha King, not as well-known as some because of their extended time in Australia. He must have been a distant relation of the Llewellyns. Rhys's fourth cousin maybe. All the old werewolf families were interconnected somehow, so that didn't really surprise me as much as it should have.
"There's plenty I don't know. So spill. Tell me everything, no matter how important you think it is," I ordered.
His lips twitched into a small smile. "Everything? Like what-I-ate-for-breakfast everything?"
"Well, obviously," I scoffed. "Food is top priority — at least ninety percent of my life."
"And the other ten percent?"
"Sleep."
He acted genuinely hurt, although it was clearly bullshit. "I don't come into it at all?"
"Sure you do. But only when you bring me food or share my bed," I said with a shrug. "But seriously now — you never talk about yourself. How about you start with why you ran away from home?"
Leo sighed, resigned to answering my endless questions. "That's an easy one. My parents were pretentious assholes, and I got sick of playing along nicely. When the last of my siblings left home, I was nine. Decided there wasn't anything worth staying for and just upped and left, I guess."
"Then you met Rhodric?"
"No. He was raiding New Dawn at the time, but it was Bran who found me, a few miles from the territory. Found me and kicked my arse before deciding to harbour a runaway."
"But he must have been—"
"Thirteen," Leo agreed. "Just a kid. Rhys was ... six, I think? But they asked Rhodric if I could stay ... and well, he never said no to those two. And so here I am. If my parents did try looking for me, they can't have tried very hard."
We sat in silence for a few heartbeats, watching the sun set over the horizon. The glow it cast turned the snow orange and yellow for miles around, and I could just enjoy the colours for a while. Then my attention snapped loose and began to wander again. Despite the growing darkness, those kids were still playing. I even thought I recognised Sammy running with the human girls.
Inevitably, my thoughts eventually returned to Leo. With my wolf's enthusiastic approval, I kissed him without warning for the second time that day. He leant back and tried to pull me onto his lap, which might have worked had we been on the ground. But we were in a tree, and all he accomplished was losing his balance and landing on the compact snow below us like a starfish. For a moment he lay completely still, worrying me half to death.
"I'm alright!" he shouted abruptly and I burst out laughing. "And it's not funny!"
Yet Leo was trying to hide his own smile. He picked himself up and shook the snow out of his coat, while I still howled with laughter. Staying balanced was not a priority, so the first snowball he threw made me wobble on the branch, and the second knocked me off. Then it was his turn to laugh.
I gathered a handful of snow and jumped onto his back, because frankly, I couldn't reach from the ground. Then I ensured that every frozen drop ended up down the back of his shirt. Only, I obviously hadn't thought it through because when Leo felt the ice on his skin, he fell over backwards. And landed directly on me.
The majority of his weight hit my chest, while a tree root bruised my back. We both groaned and rolled apart. While I lay still to catch my breath, he desperately tried to free the snow from his shirt.
"Jackass," I snorted.
"Right back at you," he muttered. "Come on — let's go inside before I die of pneumonia."
I grinned at him. "Don't be so melodramatic. It'll just be cold water by now."
"I know. I can feel it," Leo grumbled.
A familiar scent caught my attention. My sister was nearby, and getting closer by the second. "You go get warmed up. I need to talk to Fion."
"Okay. See you at supper."
He left without a fuss or asking any questions — one of the many reasons I loved him. I watched him disappear into the undergrowth before picking out a well-trodden path to Fion. She had an armful of firewood and a basket strapped to her shoulders. I collected a few twigs for the ruse of helping her fill it. This could not look like what it really was: an ambush.
"Hi," she greeted me.
"Hey," I replied, trying my damned best to sound normal.
But her eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"
"I just..." Ruse over. That hadn't lasted long. I sighed. "I think you know."
"If you're hinting at what happened earlier, it was just something I ate. There's nothing to worry about."
Such an obvious lie — so damnably obvious. I just stared at her without speaking. There weren't any words to ask the question I needed to.
"Nothing to worry about," Fion repeated, as if she was trying to convince herself.
"Then I'm sure you'll have no problem looking me in the eyes while you say that," I suggested quietly. It would be easiest if we had this conversation fast, for the sake of keeping my wolf under control. Hulking out wouldn't help either of us.
She tried — very hard, too. But every time our eyes met, hers shied away again. To look at the floor, the sky, anything except me. "Skye..."
"Fion."
"Skye."
I had been right. My worst, most horrible suspicion was correct. She didn't even have to say it, because our relationship ran deeper than words. Even if I hadn't been able to read her face like a book, the mind-link was wide open and swirling with fear and frustration and above all else, pain.
She choked on a sob, and out of everything, that scared me the most. Fion had always looked after me, not the other way around. I didn't think I'd ever seen her cry before. Then her fingers instinctively went to the tooth marks on her neck, and anger blended with my uncertainty.
What would she do, if it was me? Well, that was easy. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a hug while she cried.
"You didn't tell anyone?" I mumbled into her shoulder.
She shook her head miserably. "There was no one there to tell. I was alone, so I dealt with it alone. And afterwards ... I guess it was just easier to pretend it had never happened."
Goddess, I had been so stupid. She had tried to tell me in that cellar, and I hadn't had a clue. The shame of it all was overwhelming. Because I had failed her, and I'd been a shitty friend. In that moment though, I was far more worried about Fion than my own feelings.
"Brandon really went that far?" I asked, although it wasn't a question. "I knew he was messed up, but this is just above and beyond anything—"
That turned out to be a difficult subject. Fion dried her eyes with a sleeve and stood at arm's length. Somehow, that was worse. Somehow, watching her hide the tears from me was harder.
"I never said no, Skye," she said suddenly. "I never..."
"But he knew you didn't want to?" I checked.
"Oh, he knew. I tried fighting at first. But he was so much stronger — I don't think he really cared." Her voice was so hollow, so empty. But through the link came everything that she was trying so desperately to keep hidden.
"I'm really sorry," I told her. "I should've killed him sooner. I should've—"
Fion cut me off with one of her trademark shut-up looks. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. You were the one who risked your life to kill him."
"Yeah, but—"
"Skye! Stop it. I knew you'd do this. And Rhys too— Oh. Right. Speaking of him, I need you to promise me something."
"Anything," I said stupidly, without even waiting to discover the enormity of her request ... and so let myself in for weeks of pain and deceit.
"Don't tell him."
"What do you mean? If you're pregnant he's going to find out," I pointed out. It really was impossible to keep hidden, especially with our superior sense of smell. Shifters were able to sniff out pregnant women by the second month.
"No, not that. Don't tell him about Brandon," Fion explained desperately. "Please."
I didn't really understand what she was getting at — it seemed such a strange request. "You'd rather let him think you slept with a nameless guy than explain what happened?""
She nodded. "That's exactly what I want."
"Don't you realise how much that is going to kill him? He loves you — did you know that? And I'm not talking about as a sister."
"Of course I know," Fion sighed. "And that's exactly why you can't tell him."
"Okay ... you're going to have to explain, because I'm beyond lost."
"Other than the obvious — that he'd blame himself? I think there's a part of Rhys that still remembers Brandon as his big brother. I don't want to ruin that memory. And he thinks he has to look after me — look after both of us. Rhodric told him to, you know. Just ... just trust me." She gave me that desperate look again.
And idiot that I was, I caved. "Alright. I promise."
"Thank you. I know it isn't an easy thing to ask." Fion cast her gaze downwards then, fiddling with something in her pocket. "Do you think you could stay with me? I didn't want to do it on my own."
"What, here?" I asked.
"I'd rather not do it in camp"
I inclined my head in agreement. There wasn't much privacy amongst the tents. And besides, I didn't want word getting around before Fion was ready to tell anyone. She withdrew her hand, and I caught a glimpse of a device which looked like an electric thermometer and let out a low whistle. It was a far fancier pregnancy test than I'd ever seen before.
"Dang," I said appreciatively. "Where in hell did you find that?"
"Sophie smuggled it in with the last supply run. She didn't ask any questions, but I'm sure she suspects..."
I nodded along carelessly. "That's fine. I can have a word with her."
What I didn't add was that I was sure Sophie hated me for her mate's death. A word from me would hinder rather than help. But right then we had other things to worry about. Fion even offered a small smile of thanks before she ducked behind a tree.
I stood there alone for the thirty seconds it took her to finish the test, wondering exactly what had gone wrong. How it had all fallen apart since my childhood. It felt so long ago — those happy weekends at the cabin and raiding just to wind up the packs. But in reality, just weeks had passed. Not even a month.
Fion returned, and we stood together wordlessly while the pregnancy test did its thing. In truth, I already knew what it was going to say. We both did. Even so, for those few minutes, we could hope futilely for a different outcome. I could pretend that everything would be okay.
Then a beep cut the silence and the tiny screen showed two bars.
I was going to be an auntie. My only thought was shit.