Page 72 of Wolves of the Rising Moon

Work fast. I might not have much time.

Will do. Crow out.

I almost roll my eyes at her, but decide to let her enjoy her fun.

Jonah gets me up to speed on what to expect of the meeting, and pretty soon we’re pulling to the side of a back road.

“This is as close as I can get ya,” the driver says.

“This is fine, thank you,” Jonah says and leads the way over the metal guardrail and down the steep incline to the woods below.

Poor Claudia didn’t change clothes. She’s still in her corporate goth uniform with stilettos and a tight skirt, but somehow she makes it down the hill and through the woods just fine, keeping up with us just as easily as if she were in flats and pants.

I’d definitely have to remember to ask her about that later.

As we pick our way through the thick underbrush, Jonah and Drago never let me out from between them. Drago is always at my back, and Jonah stays a few steps ahead of me, head on a swivel, watching for threats.

And my nerves start to get the best of me.

I’ve got so much to be nervous about, least of which is why we’re actually here—to help Jaxson keep his pack without biologically procreating. That was small time stuff compared to everything else at stake.

The omegas.

Rafe and I.

Would he even show up? Was he that upset?

I couldn’t see Rafe shirking his duty as an alpha because of us, but then again, I’d never hurt him before.

So maybe it’s possible?

After about an hour of hiking, we make it to the meeting space in the dead center of Jaxson’s pack lands. Surrounded on all sides by log cabins that look strikingly similar to the ones in our pack, the clearing is teeming with shifters of all sizes.

Pups play and yip at each other around the perimeter and it looks like mostly omegas take care of them.

Did you find them yet?I ask Claudia.

There’s way more wolves here than I expected. It’s going to take some time, Omega 1.

At the head of the clearing is a wooden platform with ten chairs. To the right stands Jaxson in the middle of a group of alphas. Noticeably absent?

Rafe.

I scan the crowd, the tree line, everywhere, but I don’t see him.

And my heart drops to the grass-covered ground. Tears prick my eyes and my arms wrap around my middle on instinct.

Keep it together, Omega 1. Your head has to be in this fully. Am I clear?

I nod and pull myself together. I can’t feel these emotions right now. Gotta stay out of my feelings. Just for now. Just until we’re done.

Then I can fall apart like the weak bitch I am.

Excuse me! There isn’t a single word less qualified to describe you, Willa. You’re brave and so much more powerful than you know. You’ve dealt with so much tragedy and you haven’t shut your heart down. You care about people so much, you’re willing to risk yourself to help virtual strangers. So, I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself weak again. Am I fucking understood?

Jeez. It’s a speech that might have come from Mari’s own mouth.

Stand up straight. You’re fucking Willa Stocklin, Daughter of the First Line. Leading is your birthright, woman.

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