Page 89 of Bite

It’s the cruelest joke of all. She’s twenty-one, almost too old to expect an emergence. We all assumed she was a beta, same as Zana, and yet I can smell her fresh omega perfume soaking through the wooden door.

All those forbidden feelings that have been eating away at me for a year now make sense.

Go to her, that same voice says. She’s ours. The voice is so convincing, I put my hand on her doorknob, but the cold metal zaps me out of the haze of her scent.

No, I snarl, and push the voice down, down, down.

Ten Months Ago, Grand Prairie Compound

Ifollow behind her at a distance, watching the way the dappled sunshine reflects the shiny copper strands in her brown hair. Her scent hits me hard whenever the wind changes direction, making my mouth water and teeth ache. Does she know how many days she’s walked around this compound with a me-shaped shadow following her?

Yet, there’s something distinctly wrong with her scent right now. It’s tinged with the kind of sorrow that takes grief and twists it with anger and resentment to form thorns.

I follow her all the way home to our cabin, where she stomps up the steps and slams the door shut. I should be at work or on patrol. Maybe making runner schedules or checking in with Josef on what he needs for wintering the gardens.

But the desolation in her scent scares me enough that I follow her into the cabin.

Her sobs break me apart with every step toward her room. Inside, I find her rolled up in her nest, choking on wet, shuddering cries.

“Raine?” I ask from the door.

“Go away!” she screams at me, scent angry like burnt sugar. “Leave me alone!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Where’s River?” Maybe he can comfort her since they’re both experiencing the same grief. Zana passed away in her sleep just a day ago, and while River has been playing the role of an infallible leader, I know he’s just as wrecked as Raine.

I don’t know what it’s like to mourn a parent. My mother died when I was too young to understand, and the day my father died . . . Well, I didn’t exactly mourn him.

“He took Mother to the burning grounds,” she hisses. “And forbade me from coming with them.”

Oh, baby. She’s hurting more than I’ve ever seen, and River decided it was more important to be the compound Alpha than it was to be her brother. “I’m sorry,” I croak.

She slumps deeper into her nest and cries so hard that her breathing becomes ragged and wheezy. I can’t take it anymore, so I break one of my rules and step inside her room to scoop her from her nest and into my arms. Her body sags against mine as I slowly sink to the floor with her tucked into my chest.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper over and over as I hold her, gently rocking us back and forth.

Eventually, her breathing evens out, and her tears come less frequently until they finally stop. I hold her, feeling like my own heart is ripping into a pulpy mess right alongside hers. Zana was an incredible woman who took me in, no questions asked. She loved her children more than anything and worked her ass off to keep them safe. Despite everyone knowing about her progressing sickness, her loss is far-reaching in this community, so I can only imagine how deep the pain goes for her children.

She looks up at me through eyes red rimmed and swollen from grief. “What are we doing?” she rasps. “Why are we doing this? Playing these stupid fucking games? Life is fleeting, Ferris. Why are we wasting ours?”

Her words slice through me more effectively than a blade. It feels like she holds my heart in her hands and she’s squeezing it, trying to move blood through my veins and remind me what it feels like to live. “Raine,” I whisper, scanning every little detail of her face.

Without thinking, I bend my head down just a little and press my lips to hers in the softest brush. When her scent deepens into arousal and her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders, I recoil, horrified at what I’ve done.

I promptly stand her up and scuttle away from her toward the door. I stand on shaking legs and grip the door frame, trembling. “I’m sorry,” I say again. Such useless, empty words. “That won’t happen again.”

Then I run out of the cabin, shame pouring out of me like soured tea.

[ 57 ]

DAIR

The Steamer

Once Raine and Vale climb onto the train, it doesn’t take long for the old thing to get moving. We are being transported along with some supplies that the clans sourced through the Foothill folks, and we’ll likely be sending goods back on the train in exchange for their help.

Ren is pissed, and I haven’t even explained the full extent of what’s going on and what I’ve promised River. I’m so fucking exhausted and hungry from carrying Ferris in wolf form that all I want to do is sleep the whole way home, then eat an entire deer, but I need to make sure that Raine is okay, and I owe it to Ren to explain.

I find him in one of the empty rooms in the passenger car and slip inside, closing the sliding door behind me. He’s sitting in one of the weathered seats with all the windows open, allowing fresh air to whip through the space.