Page 14 of Howl For A Kiss
Damon nodded and returned to his task, but he could feel the electric tension still humming between them. The mate bond was strengthening with every shared moment, every touch, and every vulnerable exchange.
Five minutes later, Elena surveyed her now-empty office with hollow eyes. "I think that's everything critical," she said softly.
Damon shouldered two of the heavier duffel bags without being asked. "Your fighters are already assembled outside."
Elena picked up Tyler's knife one final time before securing it in her hip holster beside her own blade. The gesture spoke of honoring memory while accepting brutal reality.
"Ready?" she asked, though Damon could see the pain it cost her to leave this place behind.
"Let's go," he replied simply.
As they walked toward the damaged warehouse's exit, Damon made a silent vow. Whatever political complications their connection might create, whatever dangers Elena faced as a hybrid rebellion leader, he would not abandon his mate.
The twenty-mile hike to Cade's rebel base stretched ahead of them through snow-covered wilderness, but Damon found himself anticipating the journey. Every step would give him more time to understand the remarkable woman fate had chosen for him.
"All right, everyone," Elena called to her assembled fighters. "Let's move out."
The trek through the snow-covered wilderness was like a trial by frost. Damon adjusted his grip on the two military-grade duffel bags, their weight insignificant compared to the burden of deception he carried. Elena moved beside him with fluid grace despite her heavy pack, her tactical vest catching glints of the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the evergreen canopy.
She's magnificent,he thought, watching her navigate fallen logs and icy patches with the confidence of someone who'd spent years surviving in harsh conditions. Her blonde hair caught the light as it cascaded past her shoulders and those unusual blue eyes seemed to catalog every detail of their surroundings.
The irony wasn't lost on him—here he was, the Beta of the Silvercrest pack, pretending to be a simple rebel fighter while trekking through territory with a hybrid who didn't even know her own nature. Kieran's words echoed in his mind:This deception won't hold indefinitely.Damon realized that two weeks of leave wouldn't be nearly enough time to sort through the complexities of their situation.
"So," Elena said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "Tell me about your childhood. Growing up in Silvercrest territory must have been different from my... unconventional upbringing."
Damon chose his words carefully, crafting truth without revealing his Beta position. "Traditional. Structured. My grandmother raised me after my parents died when I was young."
Elena's expression softened with understanding. "I'm sorry. That must have been difficult."
"She was a healer like I mentioned before," Damon continued, grateful for this thread of honesty he could offer. "Taught me about shifter genetics, pack dynamics, and traditional healing methods."
"That explains a lot. How you knew immediately about my hybrid nature." Elena paused for a moment. "My father... he kept me in our cabin miles from anyone else. I thought it was just him being cruel, and that he didn't want me to enjoy my childhood, but now..."
"Now you're realizing it was protection," Damon finished gently.
Elena's jaw tightened. "I couldn't handle being controlled like that. Especially after he mated with Sarah when I was eight. Suddenly I had a stepmother trying to 'civilize' me and a baby half-sister who fit perfectly into their neat little family unit."
The pain in her voice made Damon's chest constrict. His wolf paced restlessly, wanting to comfort their mate's distress.
"But Fiona—my half-sister—was the only good thing about that situation," Elena continued, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. "Eight years younger than me, but she was... bright. Curious. Everything I'd been as a child before the isolation wore me down."
"You left home when you were a teenager, right?" Damon asked, remembering the fragments she'd shared earlier.
Elena's laugh held no humor. "Ran away is more like it. At age sixteen. I found a group of kids living rough—Rachel, James, and later Tyler. We moved from caves to abandoned cabins, scraping by however we could."
Behind them, Maggie called out a warning about unstable snow ahead. Elena automatically adjusted their path, her leadership instincts seamless even in casual conversation.
"So where are Rachel and James now?" Damon asked carefully, sensing deeper pain beneath her matter-of-fact recounting.
Elena's steps faltered almost imperceptibly. "They died ten years ago. Accidentally fell off a cliff while we were exploring for new territory. Tyler and I found their bodies days later."
Council kill order,Damon realized with cold certainty, though he kept his expression neutral. His grandmother had mentioned rumors about hybrid hunting even in those early rebellion days. Rachel and James had probably died protecting Elena's secret without her ever knowing.
"So that's when you and Tyler joined the rebellion?" he asked, putting the pieces of her past together.
"We were angry. Grieving. The rebellion gave us purpose and direction for our rage." Elena's voice grew stronger. "Tyler and I spent those first seven years with a small rebel group honing our skills. Eventually we'd decided it was time to start our own rebel group and build our own rebel base. We'd spent the past three years building up that base, training fighters, and creating something meaningful."
Damon found himself mesmerized by her passionate intensity. This woman had forged herself through loss and hardship into a leader capable of inspiring fierce loyalty. Every survival skill, every strategic insight, and every moment of revolutionary fervor had been earned through blood and determination.
