Page 2 of Dawn of the Pack

Roxanne and Dom exchange a glance, and my uncle lowers himself back to his seat with a red face.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Roxanne is the first to speak. “You’re right, of course. We spent so many years making decisions together, I guess it was easy to fall into old ways.”

“Apologies, Lilliana,” Dom adds stiffly.

“Milo and I are going to get some lunch and leave you guys to hash it out. When we come back, we’ll refocus on Derrek.”

Milo and I grab a quick lunch from the kitchen and retreat to my room. But even though I’m mentally exhausted and snuggled up next to him, I can’t seem to sit still.

“What about this one?” Milo is clicking through my Netflix list, just pulling up shows I’ve earmarked to watch and trying to tempt me with some distraction.

“Sure, whatever you want to watch,” I respond vaguely, my eyes gazing, unfocused, out the windows. It’s a beautiful, bright fall afternoon. I imagine the air is crisp and the breeze sharp. A restless energy zips up and down my legs, despite Milo’s calming presence.

“But what do you want to watch, Lily?” A gentle finger tips my chin up and toward Milo, whose intense eyes claim my own.

My head shakes back and forth, shoulders rising as I struggle to pull together a thought. Frustration builds within me, and I sigh heavily. “If I’m honest, I don’t really want to watch tv.” My gaze drifts back to the bright sunlight pouring in through the window. “I think I want to go for a walk.” I know immediately that’s the right choice, and my heart lightens just a smidge. Standing, I move toward my room to find some shoes.

“Okay, a walk sounds great,” Milo replies, also rising.

I freeze in my tracks. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I realize that I’m internally screaming for space, for a moment alone.

Turning slowly, I face him. “I’m sorry, would you mind staying back? I think I just want a little time to myself. I haven’t really gotten time to process everything.”

A muscle flexing in his jaw is Milo’s only reaction, and it’s a moment before he responds. “Are you sure that’s wise? After so many people got on pack lands last night, we don’t know who may have access to this property right now.”

“It’s alright, Dom showed me how to lock down the territory last night. For the time being, no one who is not pack can cross into town, even with the invitation of someone from the pack. They caught most of Jean-Yves’ friends last night, and I kicked the others from the pack so they won’t be able to reenter. It’ll be fine.”

He looks as if he wants to argue, but something, some tell on my face or in my expression, stops him.

I always thought Landon was the one who could read my emotions the most clearly, but perhaps I haven’t given Milo enough credit.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” he concedes with a small smile. “I’ll touch base with Landon and Jared while you’re out. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

I dive for his chest and hug him tightly, breathing in his comforting fragrance. “No, that’s perfect,” I murmur into his shirt. “I won’t be long, promise. I just… need some air.”

Warm arms wrap around my shoulders, and his lips press lightly to the top of my head. “I understand. Just please take your phone with you, just in case.”

Stepping back with a grin, I hold the device up. “Never leave home without it!”

It only takes me a few minutes to get appropriately dressed for the weather and slip outside. The icy breeze is refreshing, biting at my cheeks and carrying a fragrance of fresh pine and burning leaves. My feet steer toward the path that leads back to the greenhouses, and my spirits lift immediately. I draw in a deep lungful of the chilly air, wrapping my scarf closer around my neck, and try to breathe out the stress one exhale at a time. Finally free of prying eyes and concerned gazes, the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

Walking gets my blood pumping and shakes out the stiff feeling of being cooped up and frustrated, but it doesn’t entirely solve my problem.

Derrek. The pain I’ve felt since Nielsen took him away has changed from a sharp, stabbing sensation to a deep throbbing wound in my heart that feels as though it keeps bleeding. I’ve ignored it for a few moments at a time, only to be surprised by a searing pang shortly thereafter. It’s been all but impossible to focus on making plans when I’m actively working to suppress the agony of my mate being ripped from my fingers.

I haven’t told anyone what he truly means to me. How would I even begin to explain that this man, who is half warlock and half wolf from our enemy pack, is apparently my fated mate? For generations of Harridan alphas, there have been three fated mates from the same families. Ever since the split. And the biases of these people—my people—run so deeply, I don’t even know if they’d accept it coming from me, the alpha.

Not to mention my other three fated. They grew up together, practically brothers, for their entire lives. And they’ve never liked Derrek. Their inherent mistrust was seemingly vindicated when he turned out to be part of the Montrose pack. His rescue last night earned him grudging acceptance, but something told me they were a long way from calling him brother.

A guilty feeling temporarily replaces the ache in my chest. At least I understand now why I was so impossibly attracted to Derrek despite having my three fated. It’s hard to wrap my head around why I didn’t recognize it for what it was; there could be many reasons to explain why my connection to him had felt so different from the others. Probably a whole ton of mystical wolf crap I will never understand. But my mind churns over what Mr. Carson told me, and everything I learned from Roxanne.

Prior to the split, the Harridan alphas would take several mates from the existing eight key families, as many as they felt the connection to. It was only after the split that it was just three mates, because the bulk of the other four families splintered off. There has to be some connection with them still; this group of families had been together for centuries as a pack.

And since they never interacted again after my great great aunt—or was it three greats?—died because of the curse, there was no way of knowing if the subsequent alphas would have claimed anyone from Montrose as a mate.

So it’s not surprising this has never come up before, but I’m still uncertain about what to do with it, or what it means.

My feet follow the path to the midnight gathering place, seemingly of their own volition, while my brain works over thornier problems.

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