Blake
The leggy blonde werewolf led Blake through the large house. Though perhaps house was the wrong word. It felt more like an old woodland manor she'd find in some kind of ghost story. The Alpha had just driven up to it, appearing next to the house as if it had materialized through mist and trees by means of magic.
In truth, it had been a little back dirt road that had led them here and Blake didn't even know where they'd passed through the wall. Wherever it was, it wasn't the hole that she'd entered the pack from before nor was it the spot that Red had escorted her through.
Blake had committed the route to memory, just as surely as she was memorizing the house now. There were no other wolves in sight – just the blonde, who Blake had met previously and remembered that her name was Monroe, and the pretty dark-skinned woman who'd accompanied her. Blake knew enough about the second woman, had stared at her photo, memorizing the kind-looking features next to the Alpha's rough scowl the night before the attack eleven weeks ago. The Luna. The Alpha's mate.
A soulmate, if Red was to be believed.
Just as he thought that she was to him.
If it were true, she'd thought that maybe she'd feel something when she'd seen him. Had wondered if now that he'd put a name on it, Blake would be able to feel a bond between them.
But Blake had stepped out of that car and seen him standing on the deck of the house and felt nothing. Not an inclination towards him, no innate draw that told her that he was supposed to be the other half of her soul. A bit of relief, sure. Though that mostly came from having a somewhat familiar face in the crowd. Being near a person she knew had a reason not to kill her. Someone who might even protect her now that she'd willingly walked back into the wolf den.
Of course, there was no one to protect her now as the blonde paraded her through the house. One swipe of those claws across Blake's throat and she'd be down and dying on the floor faster than Red could reach her from wherever it was that he'd disappeared off to.
"So Blake," Monroe said as they entered into a grand foyer, her blue eyes flicking over Blake's frame. "Long time, no see."
"Well, time sure does fly by pretty fast when you're not rotting in an underground prison."
A tense pause before Monroe steadied herself with a breath and plastered a pleasant smile on her face. "What's home for you? Where'd you head after Red sent you off into the wilderness?"
Blake glanced around the house, ignoring the easy tone of the werewolf as she took in her surroundings. There was a long hallway down one side of it, branching off into a variety of rooms. The nearest open door exposed a large open-concept kitchen, housing what appeared to be state-of-the-art equipment like the kind Blake saw on television. Nothing like her ramshackle little house. Beyond that was a series of closed doors but to her left, there was a large staircase.
It was this that the wolves angled towards and as they began to climb, Blake replied smoothly, "Seattle. Didn't make it all the way there, though. I was a bit concerned that I might be followed so I took the scenic route before I changed my mind and turned back. I'm sure you can imagine why I didn't head straight home."
The blonde offered her a wicked grin, the kind of smile that Blake herself had perfected over the years. "You mean you didn't trust that we wouldn't try and track you down?"
The dark-skinned female didn't smile at the dry tone of her friend. She turned to Blake and met her gaze with earnest and steady brown eyes. "We didn't try to follow you. We wouldn't do that to Red."
"I would've followed you if the roles had been reversed," Blake said bluntly, stopping her ascent to level them both with a cool stare. "If I'd deemed you a threat to my people. Don't feel bad about protecting your pack and don't try to play nice because I'm Red's—whatever. I'm a big girl. I can handle the fact that you're werewolves and probably would have preferred to see me in the ground. Let's not tiptoe around the human-wolf dynamic here."
Both of the females raised their brows at her candour but it was Monroe who resumed the climb and said, "I think you and I are going to get along surprisingly well here."
The grin she offered Blake was a little less hard this time. More understanding, as if Blake were a book she was reading and she'd just found something vital.
"Goodie." Blake glanced at the Luna and said, "I already know her name but not yours. Care to share?."
"Lucy," the Luna said to Blake. "I believe you met my Mate already. Henry."
"Nice guy," Blake responded. "A little rough around the edges but easy on the eyes. Good choice."
"Yes," Lucy murmured, a hint of wry humour entering her tone. "The only reasons I've stayed with him are his abs and chiselled jawline."
Blake's lip twitched. Perhaps Monroe hadn't been wrong because Blake could see herself getting along with these two. Their mates not as much but these women – they almost reminded Blake of herself. Dry humour, bluntness, a hint of arrogance coming from the blonde.
At the very least, it would be easy to feel comfortable around them. No, not comfortable. Never comfortable in the heart of a werewolf pack but as close to it as she could be under the circumstances. Hopefully enough so that the Alpha didn't notice that Blake was there not to help but sabotage from within.
"You know, I was curious. Did your parents seriously name you after Marilyn Monroe?"
"I get that a lot and the blonde hair doesn't help," Monroe said with a snort. "But no. My parents named me after Vaughn Monroe. My dad loves the Big Band era of music and Monroe was a singer and bandleader."
"Oh."
Monroe led them down the hallway to the left, all the way to the end where there was a small rectangular window facing out into the front yard. The car she'd ridden in to get here was still sitting on the grass but Red and Henry had disappeared.
Lucy jerked her head towards one of the closed doors. The wood was a rich chestnut brown, the handle the colour of gold. "This one's yours."
She opened the door, exposing a neat and clean room that reminded Blake of a hotel except it was nicer than any she'd ever stayed in before. Three of the walls were a warm cream, the exception being the one that the bed rested against. It was a jade green that accentuated the gold and brown tones of the room furnishings. There was a desk and an armchair and even a small flat-screen television mounted on the wall across from the bed.
One of the cream walls featured three large windows and the light coming into the room was so soft and natural that it took Blake a moment to realize that no one had turned on the overhead light when they'd entered. She could see the forest beyond – the trees thick and dense – and in the distance were mountains.
Beautiful.
The word rose in her unexpectedly and yet it was true. This place with the sprawling expanse of the forest – it was beautiful.
Some unknown, deeply buried part of Blake settled at that view. The call of the wild that raged in her heart, her soul, quieted as she watched wind whisper through the trees, birds flying above, the clouds floating by.
And then she remembered that she'd bled in that forest. Had nearly died in it. Her arm had almost been ripped from her body amongst those towering trees.
A beautiful place, yes. But also a savage, untameable one.
"Gotta say," Blake murmured, "Your house is nicer than I anticipated. No offence but when I was rotting in that jail of yours, I kind of hoped that you actually lived in a cave."
Lucy laughed, her narrow face alighting with mirth. "We're werewolves, not animals. I might grow claws and fangs but I like my dresses and jewelry just as much as any girl."
"Not me." Blake took a few more steps into the room, surveying her surroundings before dropping her bag at the foot of the bed and turning to face the two werewolves, still lingering in the doorway. "I hate jewelry. I only own a couple of pieces and they're all for sentimental value more than anything."
It wasn't a lie. Blake's jewelry had, at one point, belonged to her mother. Rose Montgomery had exceptional taste, her necklaces and rings and earrings were all timeless and classic pieces. They were sitting in a box on Blake's desk back home in Beare Lake, though she rarely wore them even when she was there. Like the few items of clothing and baseball trading cards that had belonged to her father, Galan. Kept and preserved as mementos more than anything else. Just those items and a few photo albums. That was all that remained of Blake's parents.
Because of females in front of her – their kind.
Blake swallowed the hate down, forced it to a place inside of her where it was concealed in a neat little box. Not to be seen or scented.
"I already know that you're the Luna," Blake said as she nodded to Lucy, watching as she stiffened in surprise, before turning to Monroe. "And you're the Beta? What does that mean exactly?"
"It means that Henry and Lucy are the two people you really don't want to piss off," Monroe said. "As they have the authority to rip your throat out whenever they want. Me, I have to ask for permission before I can do that."
"You're hilarious," Blake replied flatly and Monroe grinned, all teeth. "Gotta say, I'm surprised to see a female Beta wolf. Thought it was all dudes who got that role."
"I'm surprised that a hunter like you even knows to be surprised by that. I didn't know that you hunters were aware of our pack dynamics beyond an Alpha wolf."
"We do our homework. Though my homework told me that it was the sourwolf from earlier who was the Beta of this pack."
Some of the lightness faded from Monroe's face as a hunt of a growl appeared in her lilting voice. "If by sourwolf you mean Toby, then you should know that he is my mate."
Blake snorted. "Lucky you. Anyway, how many of you are in this pack?"
Lucy shrugged noncommittally. "About seven hundred or so. About a third are children and elders and there's a smattering of people who live off-territory as well."
Seven hundred. And the hunters had come in with a force of a measly fifty-three. No wonder they'd had their assess handed to them so soundly.
Slowly, Blake sat on the edge of the bed. She fought to control her expression to prevent these wolves from realizing how small she felt. How outnumbered. "Does this place have a name? I've just been calling you the Colorado pack-from-hell."
"Sanguis Ridge," Lucy cut in before Monroe could formulate a response. The other woman was opening her mouth as if she were going to snap back a retort. "That's our name."
Blake committed it to memory as she turned her eyes to the Luna. "Sanguis – that's Latin for blood. I'm sure I don't want to know why you call yourselves Blood Ridge. Though, I bet it's a fascinating story. Good for campfires."
Lucy cocked her head to the side and regarded Blake for a moment, those brown eyes assessing. "You're not what I expected. After knowing that you sat in near-silence for weeks on end, I was almost positive that we were in for more of the same. But if you keep running your mouth then I'm sure you'll fit in just fine with us."
"Yes, well I tend to be more willing to talk when I'm in a place on my own terms and not shoved into a jail cell. Besides," Blake added with a wave of her hand, "it'd be pointless to come back here with the intent to help Red with his investigation if I wasn't planning on saying anything the entire time."
"Speaking of," Monroe cut in and now there was a fierceness in her eyes that extended beyond the love of her partner and her home. It was almost sibling-like. A resolute devotion to someone who was as close as blood. "Don't hurt him."
"I'm surprised that you think I could."
Her eyes and tone darkened when she added, "There are different ways to hurt people. Red is a good male and he's the only reason that you're still alive. Whether you recognize it or not, you owe him for that."
Lucy and Monroe shared a look before they pushed off from the door. "We'll give you a few minutes to unpack," Lucy said and it was not a suggestion but a command when she added, "Find us downstairs when you're done."
"Will do."
Blake watched them go, knowing full well that they were monitoring her as they went. Their damned hearing probably meant that she would never have a moment alone in this house. Not like they'd ever trust her enough to give her a moment alone.
Still, as they disappeared from the doorway, Blake felt her shoulders slump just slightly. Releasing some of the tension that she couldn't quite release in the presence of a werewolf.
She got to work unpacking her things, shoving items of clothing into the drawers and the closet. As Blake placed her things into their temporary new home, she checked the room for audio bugs and hidden cameras but found none. She supposed that with their superhuman hearing, werewolves had no need for secret audio devices. And they were probably too overconfident in their capabilities to subdue her that they didn't give a shit about monitoring her whereabouts with a camera.
Idiots.
Blake emptied most of the pack but not all of it. Certainly not all. It remained half-full but looked deflated enough that they would assume it was empty. Hopefully, it would make these wolves think that she was settling here, make her seem trustworthy and as if she weren't planning on running at the first sign of trouble.
Which, if the looks Toby had been given her were any indication, was sure to arise soon. Something about that wolf, in particular, unsettled her. Perhaps it had been the murderous glint in his eyes. The one that told her he'd be more than happy to rip her throat out.
He was one she'd be keeping a firm watch on. Really, the only wolf she somewhat trusted not to kill her was Red. And as Monroe had said, Blake already owed him for that. Blake only hoped that she wouldn't need to owe him more than one life debt before it was time for her to get the hell out of here.
Blake didn't have much else to unpack aside from her clothes and personal hygiene belongings. A small first-aid kit, a few power bars, a now-empty water bottle, and a near-blank journal – only the first half-dozen pages filled with what she knew of the Sanguis Ridge pack and its inhabitants thus far. All of it had been carefully vetted by Henry and Toby before they'd left Denver.
But there had been one place that they hadn't thought to check.
She'd been wearing sneakers when they'd picked her up in the city but stuffed into the bag was another pair of shoes. A pair of simple black ankle boots that she'd packed with delicate care. Because the heels on the boots had been hollowed out and when removed properly, exposed a little hiding place.
In one boot, she'd hidden an old flip phone. Nothing fancy or sophisticated but it would do the job of connecting Blake to her people on the outside. Malachi had devised a schedule of check-ins every twenty-four hours unless Blake specified otherwise. He'd made her swear to keep to that schedule moments before giving her a few weapons to hide on her person that he'd hoped the wolves wouldn't notice.
And they hadn't. Not the ring on her right hand that hid a little silver spike or the syringes disguised as pens in her purse that contained vials of wolfsbane that she could inject into an attacking wolf to knock them off their feet. Not enough to kill them unfortunately but would hopefully grant her enough time to get away – at least until the paralytic wore off and they began tracking her down.
They were small things and wouldn't protect her from an entire pack of wolves, but they made Blake feel a little safer. At least now she wouldn't be completely fucked in a fight.
It was the phone that Blake lingered on. She pulled it out, her eyes darting to the open door and the hallway beyond. She didn't dare close it – not when a squeaky hinge or latch could give away the fact that she wanted privacy. Blake wanted to be careful not to arouse suspicion. She wanted them to trust her.
Even if it went against every cell in her body to stomach the thought of trusting them.
By now, Blake was sure that Josh was growing worried. Knew that Hix and Mick were waiting on her confirmation. So she flipped the phone open and turned it on. When the screen lit up, she typed a quick text and sent it out to three recipients: Josh, Hix, and Malachi.
I'm in.