Page 145 of Mated to the Wolves

“Brat?” Cadoc kneels before me.

Kirk picks up the discarded paper.

“The hell is this?” Fell joins him, reading it.

Bo brushes the hair back from my face. “A message to shake her up.”

“Or the truth,” Kirk suggests.

“Do you know something, Doc?” The thought makes my chest ache.

“No. I would have told you, Ylva,” Kirk’s voice is sincere.

He cups my face. “I know this hurts to hear, but it feels right given what we’ve learned though, doesn’t it?”

“Why tell us now?” Bo massages my scalp, bringing me back from the memories I’m trapped in.

“Because they know we’ll listen,” Fell crumples the paper. “There’s no use talking if no one will believe you.”

Bo pauses his massage. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

I lean into his touch, and he resumes.

Fell nods. “Powerful people prey on the young and weak. Take away their choices and put them in impossible situations.”

“I want to help you.” I grip Bo’s forearm. “I can’t take any more secrets.”

Fell exhales. “I know.”

“That’s not telling me anything.” I scowl.

“The Oath.” He chokes the words out, face red.

“We still need to look into this.” I point to Fell.

“One crisis at a time, Princess. Let’s survive the weekend first. Priorities.”

I glance at the paper. If someone murdered my family, I will avenge them. Tears blur my vision. Who thought they had the right to steal away lives that didn’t belong to them? I’ll rip them to shreds. Kirk sinks beside me and pulls me into his lap.

“We’re going to make sure they all pay.” Fell vows.

My parents had been like his own once. Unable to hold it together, I break down for the first time since the madness of being mated to them began. When my body is spent, I’m lifted into a pair of strong arms and carried, I welcome the black void of sleep.

Awareness settles over me and I find my astral body back on the craggy volcanic island.

“Your time is coming soon.”

“Nice to see you too.” I rub my eyes. I take in the enormous wolf sitting in the crater a few feet away. Despite the sword wedged into his mouth, his words ring clearly in my mind.

“Your mates have a decision to make.”

“Why aren’t you telling them this?” Fenrir isn’t one to go through channels. He’s always been direct and to the point with me.

He blows air out of his nostrils, ruffling my hair.

“They aren’t ready to travel here.”

I try to get my brain to boot up and work out the mental gymnastics our meetings put me through. He said here like it’s a real destination. Am I astral projecting?

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