Page 55 of The Weakest Wolf

“So you’re going to stay in a cabin that smells like piss, with no food, no clothes, a shredded bed, and who knows what other surprises this pack has left for you to find?”

I tell myself that this is what I wanted. Now she has nothing. I’m the only person who can or would lift a finger to help her, and all she has to do is tell me where Eden is to get that help.

“Looks like I am,” she replies airily.

“You’re as hardheaded as a rock. Anyone ever told you that?”

Her laughter, rich and warm, fills the cabin.

The sound sneaks past all my defenses.

This is the real Sierra behind her mask. That’s what I’m hearing.

“My mom said something similar.” She has her back to me, but I know she’s smiling. “I’d forgotten that.”

I wish she’d turn around so I could see.

“Where is she? Your mom?”

“Dead,” she says in a flat voice, her smile lost. “She’s dead.”

A moment later, she resumes wiping at the stains.

I watch her for a few minutes. “Where’s Eden?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know.”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then believe it. But you’re not getting anything from me.”

“Not even if I organize another pack run?”

“Not even then.”

She means it. Sierra Stone will be stubborn to the day she dies. “I can force you to talk.”

When she peers over her shoulder, there isn’t the barest hint of fear in her silver stare. “I dare you to try.”

Before I do something I know I’ll regret, I turn and walk away.

I make it halfway to the farmhouse.

And then I just stop, my gaze on the door in front of me, the memory of Sierra Stone on her hands and knees scrubbing piss off her carpet.

An impossible task.

Maybe she’d get the cabin clean enough a human nose wouldn’t smell it, but it will never be clean enough for a shifter nose.

Spinning on my heel, I retrace my steps.

Sierra hasn’t stopped her task in my absence. This time, I don’t stop a few feet back. I march over to her, grip her by the arm, and pull. “Get up.”

As she stares up at me, I know an argument is brewing. I don’t wait for it. “You’re coming with me.”

“I—”

I lean into her face. “You can walk, or I can drag you by your ankle. Choose.”

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