Page 41 of Soul Fated

I nodded, turning back to the sink. I picked up my plate and squirted it with dish soap.

Rowan took a step closer. “You want me to believe that when you’re hired to kill someone, you double-check before murdering them?”

I stopped mid-scrub and met his eyes. “If you don’t double-check a murder target, what would you double-check?”

Callista stepped between us. “This is a messed up situation. Fighting with each other isn’t going to help."

Rowan's jaw clenched. "I don't like the idea of you being alone with him."

"That's not your decision to make." Callista's eyes narrowed. "I'm not your pup, Rowan."

"Doesn't matter."

I rinsed my plate and set it on the drying rack. "I want to help. If there’s a way to clear her blood from the dagger, I’ll help."

"And then?" Rowan’s voice was low.

I dried my hands on the towel on the counter. “Then I go on my way.”

“With or without the dagger?”

My throat went dry. I forced myself not to look at Callista and opened my mouth, but before I could answer, Rowan's phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and his expression shifted the second he looked at the phone screen. He stalked out of the kitchen.

"Hey, baby.” He paced in the living room, then stopped, his eyes widening.

"What is it?" Jasper stepped past Bill, and Lana was right behind him.

Rowan didn't answer. He kept listening to the voice on the other end of the line, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the phone. Finally, he twisted it away from his mouth. "It's Marissa. She's having her pup, but they're still on the drive home from the campground. We're the closest ones to her."

Jasper's eyes widened. Lana tucked the dagger back into her waistband and covered it with her shirt. But my mind was far from the kitchen.

I was staring at the moon, and my breath clouded in the frigid air.

Twelve years ago.

The night I’d been abandoned by my pack.

I was six years old. It was a clear night, the moon high in the sky, and I stood at the edge of the clearing alone. The cold had seeped into my bones, and even as a young pup, I knew I couldn't stay there. I had to find shelter, food, something to keep me alive.

I trudged through the snow, my boots crunching with each step. I’d been crying, and the snot in my nostrils was turning to ice.

"You look like you've seen better days.” A grizzled man with the lightest eyes I’d ever seen stepped out of the trees. I didn’t have the energy to startle.

He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. We came to a small cabin nestled in the trees. I followed him in, and my life changed forever.

Destin was retired special ops from across the border. He lived off the grid, and he took me in. Fed me. He never once asked about my past, though the fact that I only had one arm probably made it obvious. Over the next few months, he taught me how to survive. How to hunt, fish, and find shelter. How to navigate the forest and mountains. He showed me the plants that were safe to eat and the ones that could kill me.

When I was older, I traveled with him to visit rogues. One night a she-wolf went into labor. I was terrified, but Destin insisted I jump in and help instead of hiding in the corner of the room.

The cabin was small, the air thick with the scent of wood smoke. She lay on a makeshift bed, her mate pacing the floor. Destin guided me through the process, showing me what to look for, when to encourage her to push. It felt like a split second and an eternity, but eventually, a tiny head emerged. Destin worked quickly, and soon, a squalling pup was in his arms.

I’ll never forget the father. How he dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Destin handed him the pup, and he cradled his newborn, his shoulders shaking.

That had been the first time.

Life is precious, Kael. Out here, we have to fight for it every day. Never forget that.

I blinked. “I can do it.”

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