After a moment, Graham turned abruptly. His face had lost its belligerent creases, and Freya saw, to her astonishment, that his eyes were moist.
“Freya.” Graham lifted his hands as though he wanted to reach for her but balled his fists and held them back. “I thought I’d lost you, little cub.”
He’d called her “little cub” since he’d opened the door of his ramshackle house outside Elko and found her and Rolf on the threshold. What am I going to do with you, little cubs? He sometimes said it with fond exasperation, sometimes roaring in frustration.
Freya tightened. “I had to leave. Leo wasn’t taking no for an answer.”
“I know.” Graham sounded tired, defeated. “I was glad you ran. But it was hard not to come after you.”
Freya recalled the frantic fear of the night they’d crept away, trying not to wake Graham or whatever Lupines might be passed out in his living room any given day. Graham’s ferocity attracted those who wanted his protection—they’d hang out at his house rather than face the more aggressive Lupines waiting to be put into a Shiftertown.
She’d wilted in relief when she and Rolf had made it to open country outside the roundup area in Elko. They’d had to dodge Shifter Bureau patrols and local law enforcement, all the while fearing that a pack of wolves would soon be on their trail.
“You wanted me to go?” Freya asked in shock.
“It was the only way. I might have had to kill Leo to keep him off of you. Those in the other packs—hell, in my own pack—might have used it as an excuse to turn against me. I told my cop friends to make sure you got through without Shifter Bureau finding out.”
“Seriously, you let them go alone?” Shane demanded in anger. “Two cubs barely past their Transitions, wandering in the human world by themselves?”
“They weren’t alone.” Graham’s usual aggressive self returned. “I had friends and acquaintances all over northern Nevada and California looking out for them. Why do you think you found somewhere to live so quickly?” he asked Freya.
Freya recalled the kind middle-aged woman who’d given them a ride as they’d hurried along the side of the highway. She’d been to Elko to see her grandchildren, she’d said, and was happy to drive Freya and Rolf as far as Reno. She even suggested that one of the hotels was hiring and paid somewhat decently.
Not a coincidence then. Both Freya and Rolf had been hired by the hotel restaurant’s manager, no questions asked, which had given them a place to start.
Freya breathed out. “I didn’t know. I wish I had.”
“I wasn’t going to let anything happen to my little cubs,” Graham said, voice gentler than Freya had ever heard it.
“Damn.” Shane’s tone held reluctant admiration. “Never knew you had actual compassion, Graham. You hide it so well.”
“Don’t spread it around.” Graham’s famous scowl returned. “The minute my Lupines think I’m soft is the minute all hell breaks loose.”
“I get it.” Shane nodded in all seriousness. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Good.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Freya rubbed her arms against a sudden chill breeze. The clouds that had gathered hadn’t yet released their rain, but the wind was cold and damp. “I was as much afraid of you as I was of Leo.”
“Same reason I’m not telling them now,” Graham answered. “Most of the packs were against me being made Shiftertown leader, as you know. If they’d found out where you were, they might have used you to get to me. I couldn’t risk it.” He quieted. “I’m so sorry, little cub.”
Freya nodded, her throat tightening. “I understand.” She’d seen how his own pack had been a handful, and they had already accepted Graham’s leadership. “I do, in my head. The young wolf I was is going to take longer to come to terms with it.”
“I know.” Graham sounded regretful. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you all these years, or trying to at least. But you’re saying Rolf disappeared? What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know.” Freya’s frustrated fears pushed their way forward again. “He’d recently started a job at a software development company in Mountain View, testing code or something. He didn’t show up to work about a month ago. They called me, asking if he was sick or hurt, and I had to tell them I hadn’t seen him.”
The few human twins she’d met had told her that sometimes they could sense when each other was hurt or in trouble, even if they lived on opposite sides of the country. She had the same with Rolf, but much stronger. She’d known in the back of her mind, even before his team leader at work had called her, that something was wrong.
Once when she and Rolf had been cubs, playing hide and seek in the vast lands outside Graham’s ranch house, Rolf had vanished. Freya had known instinctively he hadn’t simply been hiding. She’d searched long and hard, the evening becoming night, until she’d heard his cry from far, far away. Not out loud, she’d realized after calling for him a few frantic moments. Inside her head.
She remembered vividly how she’d run through the scrub and gravel toward the voice, finally finding a hole in the ground. An old mine shaft, she’d learned later, into which Rolf had fallen when he’d gone to hide.
It had been far too deep for her to navigate herself. Freya had returned to the ranch and tearfully confessed to Graham what had happened.
Graham hadn’t bellowed at her, as she’d expected. He’d fetched rope, grappling hooks, and Chisholm, his second, and followed her back into the wilderness. Freya had pinpointed Rolf’s position exactly, and Graham had climbed down into the shaft to lift him out and carry him home.
Graham had saved his yelling for the next morning, commanding her and Rolf to never go beyond a certain perimeter around the house without him—ever.