Текст книги "Mate"

Автор книги: Ali Hazelwood

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

CHAPTER 10

She is braiding her hair. Bends her head forward, sectioning the strands and paying no mind to the world around her. Doesn’t notice him lingering at the door. Her bare nape is there for him to stare at, pink and vulnerable and accessible.

It’s so flagrantly indecent, he must excuse himself.

IT’S MISERY WHO ASKS THE ONLY SENSIBLE QUESTION: “HOW DO you lose a genetic database? I mean, Koen’s temperamental and all that, but even he wouldn’t just misplace– ”

“ ‘Destroyed’ is a better word for it. I believe it was an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”

Juno hesitates just a fraction of a second. “A fire, I think. Twenty years ago.”

I remember what Alex told me. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that the Northwest was divided into different factions?”

“I’m sorry.” Another infinitesimal pause. “I don’t know much about the circumstances.”

I exchange a wordless glance with Misery, who picked up on the same offbeat vibes. “What about my . . . mother?” The word sounds disturbingly odd in my mouth. “Do the Humans have data bases?”

“Nothing as thorough as ours. Their registries are mostly opt-ins, biotech companies that offer personalized screening. That covers a small percentage of the Human population on this continent, but I’ll try.”

I scratch the side of my neck, weighing my options. Taking the temperature. I’m disappointed, more than I thought I’d be. But it’s fine. I don’t need to know—

“Serena, I realize that this is a sensitive question, but . . . Misery mentioned that you do not remember much from your childhood. Is that true?”

I nod.

“Is there anything about your earliest memories that might help us refine our search?”

“Not really, no. I barely . . .”

What’s your name, honey? Do you know how we can get in touch with your parents?

She’ll be in the car for several hours. Let’s make sure she’s not conscious for that.

Are you stupid? I hate the dumb ones. Can she have a different bed, away from mine?

It’s no big deal. Just the desert. Have you not seen a prickly pear before?

I shake my head. “I started linearly encoding my childhood memories when I was seven or eight, but I have some spotty recollection from before. The earliest is being in Paris, a small Human town north of The City. It was April, and I was . . . They estimated my age at about six. I was told that I wandered into the Child Services office with no idea how I got there.” My tone is always detached when I talk about this, because I never feel as though I’m the one who went through it. “No one local knew me, not even when they expanded the radius of their search. I couldn’t remember my own name, and the nurses got tired of calling me ‘the girl.’ One of them named me Serena, after her mother, and . . . Well, it stuck. Two decades, and still going strong.”

“Sadly, not all of us can be named after the literal state of being in agony,” Misery says. Her grin pulls me back into the present.

I return her smile. “A missed opportunity. It pains me to admit how inflated my ego has become, but given the years of cloak-and-dagger surveillance, I assume Humans have thorough files on me.”

“There are none, Serena,” Juno says.

“Well, that’s certainly humbling.”

“We believe they were destroyed by Governor Davenport’s team.” She purses her lips. “That’s okay. For now, at least. If you recall anything else, give Lowe or me a call.”

“Or me.” Misery scowls. “Now that I think about it, Serena, send me your new phone number. So I can keep you updated on Sparkles’s bowel movements, as you requested.”

“I requested cute pictures. Please, stop sending cat turds.”

“Nah.” Her gaze flicks somewhere past my head. “I know it must be symptomatic of either overwork or severe depression, but I’m loving the shipwreck survivor with no access to blades look, Koen.”

I turn around so fast, I nearly pull a muscle. Koen is behind me, standing at the door.

“Be good, Vampyre,” he tells Misery, in that affectionate tone that he uses only with her and Ana. It should be at odds with his usual orneriness but somehow fits him like a glove. And sends odd pangs to my chest. I bet he does care, whether they like him or not.

“I’m never good,” Misery replies, and a beat later I hear the video call being shut down.

“How long have you been here?” I ask him.

He lifts a shoulder. Widens his arms. “What is time?”

“How much did you hear?”

“I don’t know. Everything?”

I frown. “Pretty sure being Alpha of this pack doesn’t give you a pass to eavesdrop on people.”

“Pretty sure being Alpha of this pack gives me a pass to run people through the paper shredder and make dinosaur-shaped nuggies out of what’s left.”

He may have just threatened to macerate me, but at least he’s funny about it. “You heard the plot twist, then?”

“Which one?”

“I might be part of your pack.” He stares, unreadable, until I continue. “We could be related. I could be your cousin.”

He scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“I have a cousin. Looking at her does not feel like looking at you.”

I glance down, hot all of a sudden. Hang on. Am I flattered? None of what he just said could be construed as nice.

“Come on.” He directs me with his head. “We’re leaving.”

“For where? You’re not taking me back to the Southwest, right?” I ask as I rise.

“We’ll see.”

“Koen.” I hurry down the stairs after him. “You said that if I told you the truth, you’d go along with my plan.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.” I fist my hand in his flannel. It looks like yesterday’s, but green, and without Vampyre blood. “Please,” I say when he graces me with his gaze. He’s standing in my space. Or maybe I’m in his. “Let me come to the Den with you. For all we know, it’s where I was born.”

“You wanna be my cousin that bad, huh?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, being all secretive and mastermind– y is not really as charming as you– ”

“Relax. I’m not taking you back to the Southwest.” He must know that I’m this close to hugging him, because he leans closer and orders, “Dial it down.”

“What?”

“That look– like I’m about to take you to the shelter to pick out a new kitten. It’s not going to be fun. I won’t put you up in another isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere.”

“Where are we going, then?”

“You said you want to be bait.” His smile is anything but pleased. “Time to put you on a hook, killer.”

“YOU NEED TO EAT,” HE SAYS ONCE THE CAR IS OUT OF THE driveway.

I stare up at the hemlock-spruces that line the road, nose pressed against the cool glass, and murmur, “I’m good.”

The thing about this place is: the farther north we push, the more beautiful it gets. Dramatic. A little mysterious. Lush and rich. I spot a million shades of green. Everything towers. Endless jutting trees, spongy moss, water flowing always, everywhere, vibrant and otherworldly and so alive, it makes me feel alive, too.

“You’re lots of things, and good is not one of them.”

I glance at Koen, who’s not unlike the landscape: outdoorsy and remote and moody. Wild and overcast. “Must be nice,” I muse.

“What?”

“Being you. Knowing everything.”

“It is, yeah,” he agrees.

“Any other unfulfilled strata in my pyramid of need that I should know about?”

“You’re sleep deprived. A little dehydrated. But the hunger is what concerns me the most.”

“I told you. My appetite has been– ”

“Low. That’s fine. We’ll find something you can keep down.”

Behaviors like this used to be an instant date-ender– Yeah, you do want another drink; I promise you’ll love this movie; You need someone who really gets you, babe, let me take care of you. But with Koen, they don’t really faze me. Maybe it’s because with my exes it felt like posturing, little kids playing dress– up. Koen, though, takes care of thousands of people. His job, his vocation, the mission statement of his entire life is to figure out what the Weres in his territory need. It’s not so far-fetched that he could take on one more person. Even if I might just be the most burdensome yet.

“Are we ever going back to the cabin where I was staying?”

“No. It’s hours away.” He scowls. “Why? Want to bring flowers to Bob’s grave?”

“First of all, you left Bob’s corpse in the very place where it dropped. He’s probably been eaten by the beavers.”

“Eh. Beavers are discerning.”

“Secondly, no. It’s just, all my stuff is there.”

“Your what?”

“My clothes.”

“I’m sure we can buy you a new burlap sack.”

“Okay, well . . . Thank you. But I have other stuff there that I can’t replace.”

“Like what?”

I quickly cast around for a good answer. The infamous sat phone? My sports drinks? Neither is worth driving hours for. Maybe the strong painkillers that Dr. Henshaw gave me for when things get really bad, Serena. And they will. But I cannot tell Koen about them, just like I cannot tell him what I really want to go back for.

So I lie. “My plushie.”

“Your plushie.”

“Yeah. Ana gave it to me.”

“Did she, now?”

“She bought it for me with her monthly allowance.” Which is nearly as high as my salary used to be. Misery is not strict with that child. “I sleep with it every night.”

He looks at me like he’s considering laying down a tarp and butchering me on it.

“It’s important to me,” I continue weakly. “What? You don’t believe that a family can be a girl and her pink stuffed penguin?”

“I emphatically do not.”

“You’re so bigoted.”

“Glad you finally noticed.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. I perform a huge, dramatic yawn and let my head fall sideways against the window, pretending to take a nap. His snort spells out how little I’m fooling him, but I don’t care. As much as I’d love to stab him, his scent is safe and warm, as shrouding and all-consuming as the Douglas fir.

I try to forget the cabin– above all, I try not to think about the letters I stuffed at the bottom of the dresser. And after a while, I sink into the first restful sleep I’ve had in a long time.

CHAPTER 11

Unknown number: You are now officially in charge of my sister, so be aware that if she gets so much as a skinned knee, I will fuck up your life. I will steal your identity and ruin your credit score. I will plant evidence of white-collar crimes on your computer. I will take control of your webcam and film you while you’re picking your nose. I will hack your pack directory and impersonate you and send everyone emails about how much you’d love for them to come over and snuggle with you. I will sell your information to the dark web and clone your credit cards and make donations to pro-cancer charities in your name and if you ever buy a smart car

Unknown number: sssli999f

Unknown number: lgi64ssss99f

Unknown number:

Unknown number: 00kk9—

Unknown number: Sorry. Ana stole my phone. Where was I?

THE COARSE CARESS OF A PALM AGAINST MY CHEEK WAKES ME up, a strand of hair tucked behind my ear. My eyes flutter open and search for the dashboard clock. I napped for over three hours.

“Holy shit.”

“Told you. Sleep deprived.” Koen’s hand is gripping my headrest, so far from my face, I must have dreamed of his touch. Which is on-brand for my recent maelstrom of psychosexual neuroses. The fact that my stomach is not twisting and turning, even though I’ve been abhorring all forms of physical contact, is proof of it.

“Where are we?” I ask, sliding out of the car. A few hundred feet from us, past the evergreen shrubbery peppering the shoreline and a sandy beach that looks untouched by man, there’s a lake. Or . . .

I inhale once, deeply. Again. Salt. Sea. “Is that a river? The coast?”

“An estuary. If you follow the shore all the way north to the end of the inlet, that’s where the ocean starts. Follow me.”

He walks uphill, opposite to the water. I linger for a moment, listening to the seagulls soaring overhead and squinting at the splashes of the dolphins– no, seals– in the distance. Then I hurry after him. “Are we in the Den?”

“Yes. Olympia, Humans call it.”

I glance around, taking advantage of the slight elevation of the terrain. We’re on top of a rolling hill, and below us is what looks like– no, it is a city. It sprawls for miles, gently following the curves of the river, spilling farther inland. There are clusters of buildings, roads, electric poles, bridges. It could house thousands and thousands of people. But it’s also disarmingly . . .

“Horizontal,” I murmur.

Koen’s expression is quizzical.

“So different from Human cities. There isn’t a single high-rise. And it’s also . . .” The marine breeze flows through my hair. Strands stick to my lips. “A little ghostly? There are so many houses but few cars and so few people walking around . . . Oh.” I flush. It’s not that there aren’t many people. “Are they . . .” I bite my tongue, because of course the wolves milling around at the edge of the forest are Weres. Simple animals are never that large, nor do they have such all-seeing expressions. Above all, they wouldn’t join a chorus of howls after spotting Koen.

Which, judging by his reaction, is a typical welcome home. He lifts his hand in greeting, a small smile on his lips, and leads me to a cabin right at the outskirts of the woods.

“Third quarter’s not even over yet.” He must notice my confusion, and continues, “The pull of the moon is still strong enough that over half of the Northwest can easily maintain wolf form. Give it a week and you’ll see plenty of ‘people walking around.’ ”

I climb the steps that lead up to the wraparound porch, a little embarrassed by the mockery in his voice, and admire the log exterior and tall windows. It’s pretty. Rustic. The door is unlocked, and Koen opens it without knocking or announcing himself. Must belong to someone he’s close to– a friend or a second or a girlfriend.

Does he? Have a girlfriend? Is that why he was so dismissive, when—

“Why do you smell so worried all of a sudden?” he asks, ushering me inside.

“Nothing.” I take a few hesitant steps, wondering if I’ll be mistaken for a home-wrecking intruder and deboned. What a way to go that would be. But I doubt it’ll be mine, because with my first deep breath, I know who the cabin belongs to.

“You live here,” I tell Koen. Accusingly. His scent is everywhere. It coats every object in a blanket of good and calm and safe and– did I mention good? I feel it stick to my nostrils and the roof of my mouth. It’s like he took off his shirt and gave me permission to lick his skin, and—

What the hell? No.

“This is your house,” I repeat– less reproachful, more sullen.

“Yup.”

“The door was unlocked. And you were out of town.”

“I’m the Alpha of the pack, Serena.”

Fair enough. The likelihood of his space being invaded without an invitation is probably lower than someone gifting him a pet hippopotamus. Plus, there wouldn’t be much to steal. This place is not like Lowe’s house– large, crowded, and cluttered, an obvious labor of love. Koen’s decor style of choice seems to be I was going to hang a picture or two but got distracted, my bad.

The door opens into a single large room– kitchen on the left, living area on the right. He’s clearly not much for knickknacks and ornaments, but judging from the shelves full of books, he likes to read. On the coffee table, I spot a laptop. Some additional furniture, sparse but beautifully handcrafted. A couch. A hallway that’ll likely lead to the bedrooms, and . . . that’s about it. No TV. No stereo system. The appliances in the kitchen are the kind that would fetch less than the shipping cost on eBay. The fridge is an older model, not much taller than me. “Did you make this?” I ask, tracing the woodgrain of the beautiful cherry table.

“A while ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Shop’s in the back.”

“So you do chop firewood.”

“I work wood. Not the same thing.”

Lumberjack, I mouth to myself. “You don’t spend much time here, do you?”

“Not lately, no. Just write me a list and I’ll get you what you need.”

Which is when my heart stops. Because I understand why he brought me here.

I need the mother of all escape plans. “I can’t stay at your house,” I say, calm. Reasonable. I’m an adult. I’m not panicking.

“Why?”

“Because.” I attempt a playful smile. “I’m a kleptomaniac. I’d steal your razors and shaving gel– and clearly, you’re in dire need of them.”

“Serena.”

“Not to mention, I snoop around. You’d have to hide all your porn magazines.”

“I have Wi– Fi, killer.”

“Well, turning on incognito browsing is a pain.”

He folds his arms. “It’s good that you’re funny. Next time someone tries to saw you open to study your half-Human gut microbiome, you can shoo them away with a jab at their masturbation habits.” He strides down the hall, and I run after him.

“Koen, seriously.” We pass a bedroom that smells so ruinously mouthwatering, it has to be his. Enter another. “I don’t think this place is a good fit for me.”

He opens the cabinet in the en suite to inspect its contents. “Because . . . ?”

“Well, this is not really an isolated area, and I haven’t learned how to tune out sounds yet.”

“Poor baby Were.” He turns to me. Suddenly, I see compassion in his eyes. “In that case, we’ll find a place where you can be alone in the middle of nowhere.”

My heart soars. “Really?”

“No,” he says mildly. “Fuck that. You’ll stay where I put you.”

I slump.

Koen is not a defenseless child, or a Vampyre who passes out in the brightest hours of the day. I’m sure that if I have a violent sleep-walking episode, I’ll get exactly what I deserve. But what if he’s the one asleep? Not to mention, he can be highly perceptive– and that meshes poorly with my secrets.

I need to be isolated to properly rot in my dysfunctions. “Thing is,” I try again, “I really like living alone.”

“Maybe you had shitty roommates,” he says casually, opening a closet. He grabs a set of fresh sheets and lifts them to his nose. They must pass muster, because he drops them on the mattress. “I, on the other hand, am a fucking delight.”

I watch him unearth several pillows. “Does it not bother your back, Koen?”

“You mean, the supermassive weight of my ego? No, it does not.”

“Oh, come on. How did you know– ”

“You’re gonna have to come up with more creative insults than that, Serena.” On the way to the bed, he taps my nose with two fingers and starts unfolding one of the pillowcases.

I take a deep, bolstering breath. “I really wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Pretty fucking late to worry about that,” he says distractedly, continuing to make the bed.

“Well.” I scowl. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask to be a hybrid hunted by every single species.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t ask to be my mate, either.” He stops mid fitting a bottom sheet to look me square in the eye. “However, you did ask me to take you in and use you to lure Vampyres away from Ana. That was your mistake.” His mouth curls in a small, sardonic smile. “I won’t be sleeping in the cabin with you, if that’s what worries you.”

I flush. “No, that’s not what– Wait. Where will you be sleeping?”

“Outside,” he says, like I deserve to take remedial Were classes just for asking.

“You sleep outside.”

“Yes.”

“In the great outdoors.”

“Yup.”

“Every night.”

A brief pause. “Not every night.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Just every night in which I have time to sleep.”

“You mean that you don’t sleep every– You know, don’t answer that.” And I used to think that my job was stressful. “Did you just never outgrow your backyard camping phase– Oh. You sleep in wolf form.”

“Like God intended,” he says, with the tone of someone whose opinion of God’s will is that it’s secondary to his own. Rationally, I know that Koen wasn’t born with a pack to boss around. There must have been a time in his life in which people surrounding him would not have thrown themselves under a banana car just because he snapped his fingers at them.

And yet I can’t picture it. “I can’t stay with you, Koen. I need to be on my own.”

“Do you need to, or do you want to?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. You’ll do what I say anyway.”

I close my eyes. “Maybe I should just go back to Lowe and Misery– ”

“Who, notoriously, have nothing and no one more important than you to worry about,” he drawls.

I press my lips together.

“Word of advice, killer?” he murmurs. “Stubborn and stupid is just a couple letters’ difference.”

“You’re not the best speller, are you?”

A smile pulls at the edge of his mouth– and then mine. We share a long look, equally frustrated and amused by each other. A weird string strains between us, tugging at me, reminding me that I like him, I liked him from the start, I don’t want to fight with him.

Maybe I could tell him. He would understand, I think. He’s gruff and abrasive, a little mean, but also aware of cumbersome stuff like duty, responsibility, love. He wouldn’t judge me for doing what I needed to do. Maybe he’d help me through my last few months. Maybe I wouldn’t be so alone.

That just sounds . . . good. So good, I nearly say, Koen, I need you to know something.

But he would never keep a secret that big. And then Misery and Lowe and Ana would know, and I want better for them.

So I ask, in my most hard-ass tone, “What do I have to do to get you to let me stay on my own?”

He pauses, staring at me in that serious, uncompromising way I should be afraid of. “You want to be on your own?”

I nod, eager.

“Okay.” He drops the pillow. Flicks his fingers for me to follow. “I’ll allow it. If you prove to me that you can handle it.”

DURING THE TEN-MINUTE DRIVE, I EXPERIENCE MOUNTAINS OF RELIEF, picturing Koen dropping me off at a quaint little cottage after proof that, at long last, I have acquired the ability to plug a charger into a socket.

I should have expected something more like me on a gym mat. Wearing borrowed shorts and a white tee. Standing in front of a tall blond woman who looks like an underwear model tough enough to survive an extinction-level event. She’s inscrutable in a pants-pissing way.

“This is Brenna,” Koen says, much closer to her than he is to me. I don’t know why I notice, or why it makes my belly heavy. “One of my seconds. She manages this gym and trains most younger members of the pack in hand– to– hand combat.” They exchange a small smile. Clearly, they go way back. “Serena here said that if she’s expecting an attack, she can fend for herself.”

“Would you like me to prove her wrong?” Brenna sounds bored. I doubt she thinks much of me. Then again, do I think much of me?

“I need to make sure she won’t die on my watch. Lowe’s mate likes her,” he adds.

“You do have a soft spot for Lowe,” Brenna agrees, like it’s his fatal flaw.

“This is unnecessary,” I say. “For one, regular Weres are much stronger than Vampyres. And in a scenario in which I live alone, I would have weapons.”

“I don’t mind if she uses a weapon,” Brenna offers, challenge shimmering in her eyes.

“Well, she can’t. And highly trained Vampyres defeat Weres in combat all the time.” He gestures toward me with a small flourish. “Show me that you can be the last one standing in hand– to– hand, and I’ll let you live wherever the hell you want. Okay?”

I can tell he expects more protests. So I smile sweetly. “Okay.” And add, under my breath, “Alpha.” His jaw twitches like he did not like that, but I must be in the mood to taunt him. “You didn’t have to take me all the way here. You could have sparred with me yourself.” I tilt my head. “Unless you’re afraid of me?”

His expression flattens. “Sure. I’m afraid. It’s not that I have better shit to do than to wrestle spoiled little girls who love wasting my time.”

My stomach drops. It’s unnecessarily mean, the way Koen holds my eyes for a beat, as if to savor the hurt in them. Then he fondly clasps Brenna’s shoulder, whispers something in her ear that has her smirking, and settles on the bench farthest away.

I hate him.

“Ready to start whenever you are,” Brenna says once he’s out of earshot.

I hate her, too. By extension. Which is unfair, but it does fuel me.

Misery and I have taken a lot of self-defense, and I have some moves tucked away. Not sure how they’ll play out after months of poor sleep hygiene, a diet mostly made of stomach acids, and my current condom full of chicken stock level of fitness, but I don’t care.

Brenna expects nothing from me, and I can use it to my advantage.

“I didn’t think Weres went to the gym,” I tell her with a small smile.

“Weres do everything Humans do. But better.”

So maybe I don’t hate her. Maybe I sort of like her. It’s Misery’s fault if I have a thing for tall blondes who use fuck off humor to shield their true selves. I’ll write my sister a strongly worded email of condemnation.

But there’s something I need to know, and I decide not to hem and haw over it. “You and Koen . . . ?”

“Yup.” Light on her feet, she moves closer. We start circling each other.

“Cool.” She throws a jab at my torso. I hop back and dodge it. For some reason, my chest hurts anyway. “How, um, long have you been together?”

“We no longer are.”

Oh.

I evade a few more punches and try a low attack, but she gets me with a leg kick. I fall on my ass but manage to roll back up before she can . . . I don’t know. When does this stop? Pinfall? Knockout? First blood? She’s not going to kill me, right? “You didn’t break up because of the mate thing, right?” I ask, already panting a little.

“As if. You’re not the hub of reality.” She snorts. “It was a million years ago, and there was no breaking up. The fucking ground was falling from under our feet.” She aims a cross at my head, which I barely slip. I counter with a jab to her ribs, quickly followed by a light kick.

I land both. And they must hurt– if not her flesh, her pride. Brenna glares, and that’s when she begins to fight in earnest. I half expect the way she grabs my shoulders, and even her knee to my stomach. I block the latter, but she takes me down with a body lock that . . .

Fucking ouch.

“Listen.” She pins me to the mat. Holds me down as she whispers right against my face. “I’m not some jealous woman quivering at the sight of a pretty trophy girlfriend. But you know nothing. Things could get real tough here in the Northwest. Koen could use an adult, instead of a cute little ball and chain combo that only slows him down.”

Hard not to take what she’s saying personally when, if the mood were to strike, she could easily choke me. “I may be ignorant of Were and Northwest customs, but in my defense, people haven’t been forthcoming with information– ”

“What do you wanna know? Ask away, ’cause I’m not going to baby you. Your weird hybrid shit and that rosy-cheeked, wide-eyed look, they’re not adorable to me. I was thrown in the deep end when I was a decade younger than you are now, and no one tossed me a rope, not even a damn stick, and I’m stronger for it. You’d benefit from fewer gloves and rougher– ”

I jerk my hips and push against her neck, creating enough space to flip us around. I twist her hand, pull it under my armpit, and lock her in an armbar. “Why was the Northwest divided?” I ask. Since she’s so eager to talk, I’d rather it be about something that isn’t me.

“That’s a much smarter question than I expected from you,” she chokes out, failing to free herself.

“Yeah, well. I used to think of myself as a smart person.”

“Used to?”

“Not realizing what species I was for the better part of two decades had me reassessing,” I huff.

“That must fuck you up real good, huh? I don’t envy you.”

“Why? It’s been so fun.” I think she might be chuckling. I strengthen my grip and ask, “When did the pack split?”

“Forty years ago. Little less.”

“Why?”

“A disagreement between the former Alpha and the Assembly. The huddles separated and became self-governing. The Alpha remained in control of the core. The five huddles made for about half of the population, so it was an even split.”

“Were the huddles and the core at war with each other?”

“What? No.” More breathless laughter. “We interacted constantly. I was born in the Moon Craters huddle, but my mom was working in the Den when I was five or so. Koen and I learned to read at the same school.”

“So what happened that made the core and the huddles reunite?”

“Outsiders tried to destroy us. The Northwest’s strength comes from its unity.”

I must have gotten too engrossed in the conversation, because Brenna frees herself. We both shoot to our feet, and then it’s a flurry of hooks and push kicks. She tries to corner me, but I move laterally. I strike her with my elbow and aim at her knee, but she’s no longer underestimating me, and that’s a shame.

“Was it Humans?” I ask. “The threat, I mean.”

“Isn’t it always?” She tries an inside trip. I attempt a clinch. We both fail. “There’s so fucking many of you, it’s no surprise you’re involved in everything.”

I step back. Gain space. Reset the fight. I can feel the beginnings of bruises blooming under my skin. “How did Koen reunite the pack?”

“He cleaned up. Made promises. Took on and won countless challenges.” She moves forward. Throws a body shot that I slow down with hits to her chest. “I lost my parents and my infant sister in the span of hours. Do you think I gave a shit about a breakup?” Her strikes become more forceful, and I can no longer parry them. She dives in, shoulders against my abdomen, and forces me to the floor again.

“Fuck.” I try to squirm away, but she’s heavy on top of me.

“The worst part is . . .” We’re both breathing heavily. Her blue eyes bore into mine as she tries to set up an armbar, this time on me. “I wouldn’t have wished this on him.”

“This?” I choke out.

“You.”

My heart drops, even though there’s no cattiness in the word. She’s just sorry, I think. Sorry for Koen, for the way he’s saddled with me, and I’m almost curious enough to ask her why. Brenna, what specifically about me is not full-package material? Because we’re positively besieged by choices here. Is it the fact that I’m a hybrid? That I don’t know how to be a proper Were? That there’s a bounty over my head? That I grew up with a Vampyre? That I’m unemployed? A snort of a laugh hiccups out of me. Honestly, it’s genuinely amusing, how poor a fit I am for the Alpha of this pack.

Brenna is less than entertained. “I don’t want to be unfair. Your life has been hard. But I hope you will leave soon, Serena. I appreciate that you’re trying to protect Lowe’s sister, but I hope you’ll know better than to stick around once this is over.”

It would be so easy to snap back, if she was being deliberately rude. But she’s obviously in pain. And too distracted to notice her slackening grip and the opening she’s giving me. I rip my arm free, shift our positions, and swing my legs over her body. Putting pressure on the joint of her elbow, I watch her thrash for a few seconds.