Page 86 of Bite

“No,” I snarl, using my body to block Tore from even looking at Ferris. I repeat, less aggressively, “No. Not yet.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks. “I know you’re hurting, but this has to happen now before he fully turns. It’s inhumane to let him fully transition. Dair?”

“He might not turn,” I say, plans unspooling in my head faster than I can blink.

The clearing goes silent. I look over my shoulder to see Tore looking at me with a mix of devastated pity and deep concern. Vale looks like she’s going to rip my throat out for giving her best friend a lick of hope. As for Raine, her eyes glow like sunshine through leaves as she stares into my soul with the kind of feminine rage reserved for vengeful goddesses.

“What did you just say?” she asks, voice rough and raspy.

“He might not turn.”

“How do you know that, man?” Tore asks, exasperated. “Everyone turns!”

“No. Not everyone,” I say, staring right into Raine’s piercing eyes. “Your mother didn’t.”

Her face looks feral in the afternoon sun, half painted in Biter blood, streaked through with rivers of her tears.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she hisses, looking like she’d rend the Earth in two if it meant saving her mate.

I’d fucking let her.

[ 55 ]

RAINE

The Foothill Territory

The sting of knowing that my alphas knew that my mother had somehow survived being bitten, yet never told me, is less painful than having to see my mate tied up, muzzled with an old belt, and unconscious as Dair’s wolf carries him through the mountains of the Foothill Territory.

He never woke from Dair’s blow to his head, and I tell myself that’s because he’s healing, not because he’s dying, or worse.

Wild heartbreak laced with rage keeps me going. I know we live in a cruel world; I’ve seen some of its worst, but there’s a small, possibly foolish part of me that believes hope is stronger than despair. I have hope that Ferris will survive the same way my mother did. I have hope that despite the atrocities bleeding into the Earth, the gods wouldn’t be so cruel as to give me the missing pieces of my soul only to take one away.

And if my hope weakens, I’ll sustain myself with the anger that this happened at all.

Dair’s plan to get Ferris into wolf territory sprang into action quickly after he told us about River’s fantastical tale of finding a healed Biter bite on Mother’s shoulder. It’s a sick kind of irony that Ferris was bitten in the same place. Or maybe it’s poetic, like one giant cosmic mirror that overlays reflections of the past on our present and future. Like ripples on a lake.

Tore and Vale scout far ahead of us, tasked with the responsibility of alerting the Lunar Mother’s allies in the territory’s eastern base that we are on the way and need urgent transport to the Northern Pacific Territory. We are not stopping until our feet are on the train.

A stubborn tear breaks through my composure to leak down my cheek. Ferris was so excited to see the steamer in action and now he’ll be fighting for his life, unconscious the whole ride.

Maybe poetry fucking sucks.

The eastern base is a small town surrounded by towering, rocky mountains along the western and southwestern sides. The buildings are a conglomeration of pre-collapse architecture and the cruder designs of necessity in the After. I can see their radio tower reaching into the sky, not quite as impressive as Grand Prairie’s, but it looks well kept.

Tore and Vale join us as Dair leads our group through the small community, still in wolf form with Ferris strapped to his back. People watch us pass, but do not speak. None of us have stopped to eat or clean since Ferris was bitten, and the marks of our journey are visibly painted across our skin, fur, and clothes.

A medium-height, older woman with warm tawny skin and long, black hair waits for us at the train depot. Standing next to her is a younger, tall man with light-olive skin, windswept, ear-length dark-brown hair, and short scruff to match. Behind them is an open-air building partially blocking a short train waiting on the tracks. My heart speeds with anticipation. We are nearly at the end.

Neither of them speak as we pause several yards away, and Tore shifts to help me get Ferris off Dair’s back. As soon as Ferris touches the ground, Dair shifts back to skin, and I hand him clothes so he can dress.

“What are you doing here, Ren?” Dair asks the man. Ren? My eyes fly to Vale’s wolf, but she’s calm and composed, giving nothing away.

“The Lunar Mother sent me,” Ren says in a deep voice. “You know how the trees like to talk.” I can’t tell whether he believes that or not, but he continues, “Her instincts told her I needed to be here.”

“Well, she was spot on,” Dair says, voice heavy with emotion. I watch as he walks over to the older woman and bows his head slightly. “Alpha, thank you for allowing us passage.”

The older woman scans our ragged group, eyes pausing on Ferris’s heaped form as her nose flares. “I hope you know what you’re doing, boy. The Mother is always watching her children, but even she can’t steal from Death.” Her words land in my heart with a heavy thud. “Although,” she muses, “wolves have always danced with Death as friends.” Her dark eyes pin me in place. “And there is nothing more powerful than a she-wolf’s spirit.”