Page 49 of Savage Hope

Veronica.

She'd been here barely two days, and at the hands of the blood kin curse, her life was taken because of some dumb fight between a wolf and a vampire. Not her, though. No, that was all Dean and Declan. Declan has been detained and questioned, and no one is willing to offer us any further details, but that’s beside the point.

Whatever comes next for Declan, we will have to take it in our stride. There’s no excuse for killing a member of anotherquadrant, especially not over some girl, which is what Asher says they were yelling over. Declan should have sought refuge in his quad if he felt like he was getting out of control, but instead, he killed him—killed Dean—and, in doing so, killed Veronica too.

One ofhisown.

That doesn't matter right now. What we must do first is deal with the loss that has affected our pack. As if sensing my thoughts, Minnie looks my way.

“Have the arrangements been made for V?” she asks, her voice lacking the usual lilt that we’re all familiar with.

“Yeah, everything is set for midnight,” I answer, tempering the irritation I feel at the use of Veronica’s nickname.

V.

From what I hear, at Florentine’s, that's how they are addressed. A, B, C, D, all the way to Z. V is more than an initial. She'll die more than just an initial. She’ll be appropriately remembered as Veronica, but I don't correct Minnie. I know she doesn’t mean it. Besides, she seems to be feeling the loss the most.

“Fuck, we’ll sleep when we're dead, right?” Lincoln grumbles, wiping a hand down his face, and I huff in agreement. The tendrils of sleep deprivation will wreak havoc on us all day.

“It’s not good for my training. The fight is coming up and the lack of sleep doesn’t help. Especially since the full moon wiped me out last night.”

“Don't be so insensitive while there are condolences to be felt,” Asher grumbles, giving me a pointed look, and I try not to roll my eyes.

“I’m not. I’m just trying not to sink in the madness that apparently is our lives,” I retort, aware there’s a bite to my words, but thankfully, no one calls me out on it.

Good.

I would have blamed it on the lack of sleep anyway.

“You’re extra grouchy today, Wylder,” Minnie says with the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips, and I try my hardest not to glower at her. I can see the amusement on Lincoln’s face, but I ignore him altogether, focusing entirely on Minnie.

The two of them always blow my mind: Lincoln and Minnie, his sister. Technically, they’re twins, but they’re not each other’s blood kin because they weren’t born at the exact same time. Even though they were born on the exact same day, minutes apart, their lives aren't intertwined under the blood curse.

Thank goodness, because the thought of losing one of them tears me apart.

While one is soft, one is hard. While one is sweet, one is bitter. Together, they are the yin and yang of the word wolf while also completing each other in ways I've never seen before.

Today is going to be a rough day for her. I can tell by the way she clings to Lincoln and the way he naturally holds her in his embrace. They bicker ninety-nine percent of the time, but in the rare moments of pain between them, they come together, solidifying their love for one another.

“How do you think Tatum is doing?” she asks, lowering her voice as she glances at the guy sitting beside her as if he doesn’t have heightened wolf hearing like the rest of us. But if he hears her, he doesn’t react. Instead, he plays around with the food on his plate, deep in thought, a place he always seems to find himself.

“Not good,” Lincoln states, concern storming in his eyes as he glances at Tatum before spinning back to me. “He might need to bunk with one of us for the next few nights,” he admits, and I nod.

“We’ll take it in turns,” Asher says as Tatum's gaze lifts, and Minnie panics, desperately trying to steer the conversation in a different direction so she doesn't spook our closest friend.

“Anyway, what's this I heard about the Alpha Pack helping a witch out yesterday?” she asks, pressing her cheek into her palm as she leans against the table, eyeing each of us.

“It was nothing. Blaze was just being a dick, as always. She was new and scared. The least we could do is help,” Asher states in his usual nonchalant way, while Minnie nods in understanding, a soft smile on her lips.

If anyone is ever going to help anyone, it is her. She's too kind, too sweet, and too innocent. Or, that's what Lincoln likes to think anyway.

“It was a girl from class, right? The one with the silver hair?”

“Yeah, it was her,” Asher agrees in between stuffing food in his mouth, and my gaze darts across the room, acutely aware of where she is.

“Is someone catching feelings I need to be aware of?” Minnie asks, smirking at Asher, who scoffs.

“What? Of course not. Should we not be nice to people for the sake of it?” he pushes, and she waves him off, refusing to take on his grumbles.

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