Page 55 of Savage Hope

Fuck.

I need a distraction.

“Is everyone here?”

I turn to Asher, silently thanking him for pulling me from my thoughts before casting my gaze over the gathering just a few steps away. Here I am, lamenting the missed opportunity forpussy, even though I don’t do virgins, when I should be focused on my pack and what they need from me.

Straightening my demeanor, I nod, but I’m sure it’s more to myself than to him. “Yeah.”

“Then let's go,” he murmurs, as straight to the point as ever.

One day, Asher will have a story to tell. Someday, he’ll talk about something that isn’t a heaping of inconsequential shit that doesn't even matter. One day. Not today, though, not ever so far in his life. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever met anybody as blunt as him, but I like a man of few words.

When he does speak, his words hold weight and, in that, speak volumes.

I know what other word spoke volumes.

Virgin.

Fuck.

Rolling my shoulders back, I crack my neck from side to side and turn toward the gathering of wolves. “Thank you all for coming tonight,” I state, hating that we're here at all, but we can't control that part. All we can control is what comes next. “I hate to address everybody under such difficult circumstances, but it's vital that we take time to recoup, not only as the wolves of this academy and for the strength of our pack, but for Veronica.”

I spy Minnie standing shoulder to shoulder with Wylder, Tatum holding back a step, and my gut lurches. Between Tatum and Minnie, the loss of Veronica isn’t going well. That’s the thing with wolves; we grow an attachment. Even after a day, it seems.

“She was here for a matter of days, if I can even call it that much at all. And I can't begin to fathom what it is she experienced, torn from one hell hole to seemingly die at another. Not only did she lose her life, but we were reminded of the stark reality of this blood curse that holdsallof us captive.” I pause, making eye contact with every single person in the crowd, ensuring they understand the weight of my words. “Her life waslost and not because of her own choices. That same fact applies to all of us, each and every one of us. We don't know what tomorrow may bring, but we know that Veronica will be honored tonight.”

Howls ripple through the air as the wolves promise her the send-off she deserves. Not only does it soothe my wolf, but it nestles deep within me too. I hate that tragedy is what bonds us all tighter, but we have to take strength from these moments unless we want to crumble under it all, and that’s just not who we are.

“For a girl announced a wolf, yet unable to shift because of the sigil suppressing her other half, I feel it is only fitting that tonight we each take to the forest. We ride as one, and we ride for her.” Cheers echo over the boom of my voice, transforming the solemn darkness into virtue and righteousness. “Veronica, we can't bring you back, we can't take the pain away, but we can honor you. Come morning, she will forever be in our hearts. Take to the night and make it so.”

At my final words, the wolves need no further prompt as they dart toward the treeline. The group disperses, some shifting right in front of me, others inching closer to the forest before they let their wolves free. Minnie and Asher are right in the mix, but I'm acutely aware that Tatum is still standing ramrod straight in his original spot. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his gaze is downcast as he makes no effort to join the crowd.

Wylder catches my eyes a few steps away, uncertainty warring in his stare as he tries to figure out how to help our friend, but I wave him off, nodding toward the treeline for him to join the others. He stutters a step, but it must be clear on my face because he shifts in the next breath, hightailing it toward the forest.

We all care, we always do. My pack is my life, but Minnie, Tatum, Asher, and Wylder? They’re my family through andthrough. Tatum doesn't need all of us right now anyway. That would just overwhelm him.

Besides, they can run for the two of us until I pull him out of this funk.

I wait until everybody's gone, then turn toward my friend. It takes a handful of steps to cut the distance between us, and I match his stance, tucking my hands in my pockets and letting my shoulders relax in hopes of making him feel as calm as possible.

Closing the gap an inch more, I must distract him enough to pull him from his head because his eyes latch onto mine. His chin remains firmly pressed against his chest as he looks up at me through his lashes.

“I…this is all too much for me, Linc. I should just end it now,” he states, and I growl, the cool demeanor I was attempting completely obliterating in an instant.

“Over my dead fucking body.”

He shakes his head. “It's going to be someone's dead body, and I can't do that…”

His words trail off, his pain consuming the rest of his sentence as I try to shake my initial knee-jerk anger from my limbs.

I put my hands on his shoulders, squeezing in what I hope is comfort. “What happened to your parents was tragic, Tate, but this is different. Besides, harming yourself will only hurt someone else, then there are two unnecessary deaths that we don’t want,” I murmur, hoping to cut through the darkness that plagues him. I try to catch his eyes, but his stare remains down at his feet.

“Blood is blood, Linc. Death is death.” The defeat in his voice is enough to knock the air from my lungs. It doesn’t help that it was also the anniversary of his parents’ deaths yesterday. His emotions are already all over the place from that.

What pains me the most about Tatum, more than anything else in the whole entire world, is how he will never exist without that pain, the treachery and torture, how it will permanently taint his joy and tatter his life’s journey.

“You're right. You're right, Tate, but we're going to figure it out this time.” I finally earn his stare, but the pointed look is not what I had hoped for.

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