Page 105 of Fated Exile

"You had a chip implanted?" I go over to her and reach my awareness out, sensing sorrow and fear mixed with a bit of hope. "There are more females who had one voluntarily than I could've guessed."

"Alpha William wouldn't let us use them at first—he was certain one of us would be strong enough to survive the curse." She snorts, and I can sense what she thought of the idea of throwing herself on the mercy of dark magic as a kind of sacrifice. "I don't know what possessed him, but I wasn't going to wait around to see. I hadallmy bonds severed before my seventeenth birthday, headed straight out of town, and found a doctor on the black market who would do it for me. I've been working as a bartender ever since, but I want my wolf back. And my mate, if he's still around."

My senses pick up a bubbling resentment and some long-held fury inside her, but nothing alarming like the dark presence in Bastian's mind, or some kind of grudge. She's angry at the curse, resentful of my father, and furious after missing years of her life, just like I did. But she's still strong physically despite having the chip for so long, and I can smell the wolf awakening in her, eager to be released. She hasn't lost her wolf form and could be mated easily.

The only question is, "Who was your mate?"

"Ian Ocean." She shifts a little on her feet, and I feel a spark of hope go through me. "Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten me. Josephine Forge. Josie—that was my nickname when I was young. We were intendeds for three years."

"I'll talk to him about it," I reassure her, sensing outwards for the warriors and finding them on patrol nearby. I snag Ian separately from the rest, pushing out a single thought across the distance:come.It's all I can manage from this far away. "He hasn't been mated yet, so if the bond can still be forged between you two, we'll see what we can do about it. All you need now is to officially rejoin the pack and have your wolf form awakened—we can do that tonight after sunset in the Mating Circle."

"Thank you." Light sparks in her brown eyes, and I wonder with a squeeze of sympathy how long it's been since she had any hope. "Seriously, I can't thank you enough."

I move on to the other wolves after her, sensing Roarke step aside to talk to her about rejoining the pack. He's been the one to do most of the ceremonies so far, lighting the pack flame and calling on the elders to fold our recruits in, but hopefully I'll be able to join him tonight. There's nothing I'd love more than to sense the pack's strength grows from floundering and despairing to healthy and vibrant.

The five recruits are lone wolves, four female and one male. I sense nervousness from the male, but it's only because we sent out a call for female wolves and warriors, and his scrawny form fits neither. But he's young enough to be given an intended, and he bears no pack rune on his wrist; it'll be easy to fold him in.

Two of the females, on the other hand, have already wracked up two pack runes each despite being under eighteen—they're runaways, like Lance once was. I root around in their mind and find them flighty and flaky, but there is hope. Neither has been happy with the mates offered to her, and unlike other packs, we have plenty of mateless males their age. We should be able to get them to settle down easily enough as long as we pay attention to their happiness.

Next up are the two completely lone wolves, a pair of sisters who are thirteen and fifteen years old. They give me flinty, wild stares, and bear the scars and mistrust of wolves who've never had an easy home. The older girl has a scar in her neck from being chipped; they both immigrated from a country where chipping was normal, and their parents had it done to the elder girl in secret. But she ran away with her sister, and because they're both werewolves, they're legally allowed to emancipate themselves if they want, as long as they join a pack within sixty days.

"We don't want to go home," the older girl says, gathering her little sister against her side and staring me down. She has a light French Moroccan accent to her words, and dark hair braided into plaits that hang down her back. "Don't make us."

"No one can make you go home, since you're wolves." I take her wrist and turn it over in my hand, placing it next to mine so she can see the rune. "Once you're members of the pack, and you have one of these, your parents won't be able to do anything to get you back if you don't want to leave. The pack will protect you—and the territory."

Both girls sag with relief, and I can see wetness glimmer in the eldest's eyes. Back straight, hands on her sister, she simply says, "Thank you."

My heart twists for them both, but I'm glad to have them among us now. We need young recruits who are strong and eager to be mated wolves. The fighting spirit that shines in her eyes and the angry wolf twisting beneath her skin will only grow once she bears her rune and has her mating threads.

Next I move on to the older couple. I feel Roarke's attention shift to me, and he walks up to my side, motioning to them both.. "This is Maura and Peter. They left their pack when it fell apart over a decade ago, but are ready to join a new pack before they have children. I told them we're ready for new blood and would love another pair of warriors."

Peter looks like a warrior and then some. He bears scars, like Bastian does, but has short-cropped hair and lightly tanned skin. His runic wrist tattoo has been covered up by a flowing battle scene, but there's room below it for another pack rune.

Maura, on the other hand, will have to wait at least a few months before becoming a warrior in the pack, because she's heavily pregnant. She gives me a tremulous smile as I glance her way, her thin blonde hair pulled back from her head, her round belly changing her balance. But pregnancy hasn't changed the wiry muscles in her upper arms or the slight air of danger she gives off. I have the feeling that she's capable of stabbing me to death if need be for her kids—because based on the size of her stomach, she's going to be having twins.

"Nice to meet you both." I share strong handshakes with each of them, and ripple my awareness slowly out, assessing their emotions. "I'm going to be looking into your mind and heart a little bit, mostly on the surface, just to make sure you're not hiding anything. It shouldn't be unpleasant, but it'll be easier if you let me in."

They trade wary glances, and Peter asks, "So you're really a wolf-witch hybrid?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

I feel Roarke tense beside me, but Peter shakes his head. "We just want to make sure that the babies are safe. A few weeks back, Maura started bleeding, and the doctor in town didn't know what to do with us. A local coven helped it stop."

"I didn't know that being a witch made you a mind reader," Maura says, her brow crinkling. "I thought witches just perform spells."

"Hybrids have some of our own powers. The wolf in me has a connection to the land and its wolves that's augmented by my magic. And like my mate, I'm alpha of Glass Pack. If that concerns you, there are other packs—"

"No," Maura insists firmly, her face settling into an expression of determination. "I don't want to die giving birth in the woods. Look in my mind, root around in my past for all I care. Just as long as I get to have a home before the babies come."

Peter takes her hand, but he still looks concerned and a bit wary. I have no doubt that he's here for her sake and the sake of his unborn children, not because he wants to be. I'll have to watch him, and make sure I really check his mind.

Reaching out my awareness, I skim the surface of their emotions. Maura burns bright with determination and a sliver of anxiety. She meets my gaze easily as I glance over at her, chin up, her mind resisting my probes with only the barest effort. I slide inside and sense some of her recent thoughts and emotions, fear high among them all, along with a persistent pain in her lower back and swelling in her feet.

Peter is harder. He resists more than a little, and I have to grit my teeth, glancing over at Roarke. He pushes his calming influence out into the air, but the effect that it has on non-pack members is lessened. Still, I can feel Peter's tension uncoil somewhat as Roarke firmly insists, "All pack members will need to have their hearts and minds checked before joining. The sooner you give in, the sooner it'll all be over with."

He resentfully nods and lets me in. His mind is more of a quagmire—there's burning fear for his mate, but also resentment at the intrusion into his mind, and other, bitter feelings. Maura's pregnancy has made him feel less capable, more exposed and vulnerable. They had a loose pack of lone wolves they ran with until she started to show, at which point they were both abandoned before they could slow the pack down. Now he's his mate's only provider, and because he's had to turn to outside help to protect her, he hates even standing here.

There's darkness within him that may just be his own male pride and ego.

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