*Ella*
Three days passed. Three days we spent hiding in the cave waiting for Granger then running like hell to Granite Rise at his behest. The rest of the time we spent sitting around with no news about what happened in the clearing after Ryatt forced us to leave.
For three days, I’ve gone over every harsh word I’d ever said to him, wondering if I’d been wrong.
We’ve been in Granite Rise for a little over twenty-four hours now. I’ve barely left the house–Amanda’s parents’ house–since we arrived. Hannah continues her endless slumber in a bedroom downstairs, overseen by the occasional healer who dribbles water and broth into her mouth just to keep her alive. She still has that sleepy smile on her face, but her skin has become pale and glassy, and her once bright, tightly curled pale golden hair is now lackluster.
I move away from her bed for what feels like the hundredth time today, my finger curling around the doorknob as I glance at her over my shoulder one last time before I force myself to go to bed. She looks like an old doll–a doll left to rot in an attic, it’s porcelain painted face graying with age.
My heart lurches at the thought of her just wasting away here while I wait, and wait, and wait for help.
Because I can’t do this on my own. These lands are dangerous and unfamiliar. And after hearing Gemma’s tale of how they ended up back in Granite Rise despite their escape from the Magpie and his men?
No way.
My stomach clenches as I leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I lean against it, my eyes blurring with tears.
Hannah’s room used to be a study before it turned into a sick bay. It’s right off the foyer, and from where I stand, I can hear the sounds of the village drifting from beyond the heavy wooden front door and thick glass windows set against stone. These people live peacefully amidst monsters from my darkest nightmares that prowl in the woods that encircle the village.
They know what these monsters are and how to handle them, how to defeat them. I don’t.
I steel my expression and grab one of Amanda’s coats off the rack near the door before stepping outside into the crisp, damp autumn air.
Torchlight guides me back into the village proper. My boots–borrowed from Amanda, my outfit borrowed from her mother, who is thankfully taller than her fox daughter–squelch through muddy puddles as I make my way to the pack house. The villagers pay me no mind. Some glance in my direction, but if they continue to whisper about me, I block the sounds of their voices from my head. I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’m not here to make friends. I can’t get comfortable.
Two of the Alpha’s warriors hold the doors open for me as I walk up the stone steps and into the warmth emanating from the raging fire on the far side of the room. The doors close behind me with an echoing crunch, and then, for the hundredth time today, it’s all eyes on me.
Granger and the few men who’d been with him when he came to find Amanda and I at the cave glance at me but go back to their conversation over plates stacked with meat and potatoes and bread. Amanda sits rigid next to her mother, a beautiful woman with the same golden hair as her daughter. Sage is her name, and she is the Luna here.
“Eat something, my dear,” she says with motherly calm as I sit back down at the chair I’ve exited no less than a dozen times over the last two hours to go back to the house to check on Hannah.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, and it takes all my strength to do so, but Sage slides a fresh plate toward me piled high with roast chicken, green beans, and roasted potatoes. She sets a fork next to the plate, the gleam in her eyes silently telling me she wasn’t asking, and her words had been a command.
Amanda huffs a breath and reaches for a jug of wine in the center of the table, but her mother moves it out of her reach. “Seriously, Mom?”
“Your father is livid, Amanda,” Sage says with remarkable casualness as she pours Amanda a glass of water instead. “You’ve caused quite a scandal.”
“You just want me sober for when he lashes me, don’t you?”
Sage’s mouth quirks in a smile as she pours the very same wine Amanda had been fussing over into my glass. “I want you clear headed when he comes to speak to everyone tonight about pack business, which now pertains to you and our guest.” Her eyes, amber and clear in the soft light coming from the antler chandelier above our heads, flicker to mine.
“Has there been any news about the Alpha King’s whereabouts?” I ask. She knows I’m asking about Ryatt and not his father. None of these people consider Alpha King Kane their ruler. Nope, it’s just Alpha King Ryatt. Or High Alpha, as I heard some of them say. Or just the King of the Rogues.
High Alpha. That’s a new one. I wonder what Isaac would think if anyone called him that.
I fork a piece of chicken into my mouth and resist the urge to sigh with relief. I can’t remember the last time I had a real meal, and soon I’m scraping the plate clean to get every last morsel. Sage takes my plate away to refill it with a second helping when Granger approaches, bowing his head to the Luna.
“Luna Sage,” he says with a nod.
“Sit,” she offers with a wave of the hand to the chair right beside mine.
Amanda narrows her eyes on Granger, who doesn’t give Amanda or her cold look any of his attention as he takes a seat, his back straight and green eyes lighted on the Luna. “I’m taking two of my men back into the forest to scout tonight. I wanted to let you know so that your warriors will be aware of our presence in your territory.”
“There’s no need for any of that. You’re guests here, not warriors. You will use this time to rest and regain your strength.” Sage sets my plate back in front of me then grabs a fresh plate for Granger, stacking it high with what remains of the three roast chickens nestled in the center of the table.
Granger, who’s already eaten, I’m sure, doesn’t protest when she sets the plate in front of him and motions with her hand for him to eat.
“I know you’re looking for your king, but we already have warriors out patrolling for any signs of him and the rest of your party.”
Granger swallows, the column of his throat straining with the effort, like he’s holding back what he truly wants to say. “Yes, Luna. Thank you.”
I let out my breath and pick at my second helping, suddenly not as hungry as I’d thought.
Granger takes a bite of chicken and glances at Amanda. “How is your friend doing?”
“Who, Gemma?” she asks coldly, eliciting a glare from her mother. “She’s fine. About as fine as you can be after having a chunk of your leg bitten off by a hellhound.”
I blanch, setting down my fork. Granger, to his credit, actually looks surprised. “What?”
“Did you not hear?” Amanda asks. “It’s been all anyone can talk about. I guess you wouldn’t have known, given you’ve spent the entire day in here, pouring over my father’s maps.”
“Amanda, that is enough,” Sage says sharply, but Amanda ignores her completely.
“A hellhound?” Granger’s voice is suddenly low and gravelly, laced with a hint of warning. “You’re sure?” He looks to Sage then, and the Luna nods.
I’ve already heard the recounting of Gemma’s attack and how they ended up back in Granite Rise. I’m shocked Granger hadn’t been told, but why would he? We’re just guests, as the Luna has said a dozen times already. It’s plain and simple. Even Granger, who is by all accounts the Beta to their Alpha King, isn’t privy to their pack's business.
“They got close to the lands of the witches but the witches sent their hellhounds out to intercept them, to push them back. Gemma tried to plead her case to one of the hounds, but he attacked her. She barely got free of it before the beasts were called back by the witches who control them.” Amanda sighs heavily, her eyes landing on mine. “We are not welcome in the witches’ lands, that’s clear.”
“But Hannah–” I begin, but Granger cuts me off.
“What reason would the witches have to push anyone from this pack out of their territory? I thought the Rogueland packs were on good terms with the witches?” he asks.
Rogueland, that’s a new term too. I categorize it in the mental sheet of notes I’ve started taking on this place and its people, building a mental map of the land, the allies, and enemies within it.
“They’re nervous about something,” Sage says under her breath as she refills her glass of wine. Her eyes lift from the wine glass to meet mine.
I look away, my mouth drying out around the bite of roasted potatoes I’d just taken.
Granger opened his mouth to say something but was quickly silenced by the door to the massive pack house opening and the Alpha of Granite Rise entering the space, followed by his many sons, and several pack members. The Luna rises from her seat at one of the long tables and smiles at her husband, her eyes dropping to the floor as he walks toward the rustic throne at the head of the room.
More and more people file in. Men, women, and children. I realize that this isn’t going to be the kind of meeting Amanda and I witnessed my first day here in this realm–no.
The entire pack–the entire village–has been called to attention.
The Alpha sits, so everyone else quickly finds seats. Sage leaves her spot at the head of the table we occupy to sit next to her husband near his throne, but Amanda stays behind, eyes on her mother’s abandoned glass of wine. Granger shifts beside me to look at the Alpha. I feel him lean closer to me, one of his hands resting on the top of my chair. “I need you to try to mind-link with Ryatt.”
I bristle then turn to look at him. “No.”
Granger’s nostril flare. “None of us have been able to get in contact with him or the rest of the men.”
“Why do you think it would be any different for me?”
“Your mate bond.”
I narrow my eyes at him and turn back to the Alpha, who is rattling on about pack business that in no way, shape, or form pertains to me and Granger. Behind me, Granger lets out his breath. “Please, Ella. Something isn’t right.”
“There’s a lot that isn’t right,” I whisper coldly. “My friend Hannah, for one, is barely alive and in a coma–”
“The witches likely smelled you on Hannah, and that’s why they sent their hellhounds after Gemma and the other wolves who were assisting her.”
“I don’t even know what a hellhound is–”
“You will if you try to cross into their territory alone. I know that’s what you’re planning to do. You can’t do it without Ryatt, and we’re in a world of hurt if anything has happened to him.”
I glance at Granger over my shoulder, seeing the desperation clouding his eyes, a rare glimpse of emotion he must keep buried deep, deep down. “I’ve tried,” I admit, and turn back to the Alpha.
Granger leans back, surrendering to the cold, hard truth. I had, in fact, tried. I sent my words through the bond, apologizing, frantic and just as desperate as the look in Granger’s eyes. I shouldn’t feel like this for Ryatt. I know it’s just the mate bond talking, but if anything were to happen to him…
Shouts ring through the room as the doors fly open, and several figures burst into the room. I stand, unable to see over the sea of people between us and the door.
Ryatt, bloodied and beaten to a near pulp, holds up Thorne with an arm around his middle. “I need an audience with the Alpha, immediately,” he says, before he collapses onto the cold stone floor.