The forest seems to hold its breath, and a deep silence falls as our howls die down.
The forest—and the entire pack—knows now that we are bound.
Lexa takes a few steps to the edge of the rock, her body trembling as she looks beyond the town to the savage mountains beyond it. She seems distracted now, her eyes searching the darkness as she shivers.
My need to ask her what’s wrong is so strong that my human shape takes over all at once. Suddenly, I’m kneeling on the cold rock, my wolf gone and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“Are you okay?” I ask, struggling to master myself so soon after the shift.
Lexa looks over her shoulder, tilting her head again. Her human shape comes over her slowly, and a sigh eases through her as the wolf falls away, leaving her sitting on the rock outcrop with one leg dangling casually over the edge.
I can only see her silhouette, traced by faint starlight. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I’m okay,” she answers, still looking into the forest. It’s as if she expects answers to be waiting there, or she’s waiting for something to come out of it.
The pressure to talk about the past looms over me, something with real, tangible weight. I feel like I’m going to be crushed under it, flattened by my lies if I don’t let them out.
But in the end, I’m too much of a coward.
I struggle to find something to say that won’t evoke bad memories, but there’s absolutely nothing—no topic that doesn’t touch the horrors of the past. I ignored her most of the time in school. We shared an art class together once, which was fun, but any mention of school will inevitably connect her mind to the end-of-school party.
“How did your grandparents die?” Lexa asks, making me jump.
I’m surprised she spoke, but even more shocked by the question itself. She doesn’t look at me, just keeps her eyes on the faraway hills. I can’t discern anything from her manner.
“I saw their graves,” she goes on. “When I was at the cemetery. I was wondering if it happened right after I… left town.”
“Yes, very close to it,” I answer. “They went to the human world on some kind of mission and were killed there. It’s been a mystery as to how it happened. The wolves we sent out didn’t actually find the bodies, but the pack doesn’t know that. We held a full funeral with empty boxes.”
Tension floods across her body, and I know she’s probably thinking about her mother’s grave and how it isn’t empty.
I want to get us off these topics and focus on us.
“I know you weren’t up to it today,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, “but I do need you to attend meetings with me. It’s important to have your input as we move the pack forward in a new direction.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to get the younger people involved and start new traditions that are more inclusive than our old ways.”
“That sounds good.”
“I’m getting some resistance from the older members, but once you’re a part of it as well, we’ll be able to push back. I don’t just want to make our pack conditions more welcoming; I want to make alliances with other packs, too.”
“Like who?” she asks, turning to face me.
“Oh, my friend Galen, for a start. His pack is closest to us, and the situation was a bit frosty when my grandfather was in charge, but now we can come together and support each other. Heal the old wounds.”
“A bit frosty” is a hell of an understatement. Grandfather fought Galen’s grandfather once, and it ended up being a draw. It was the only reason we kept peace between our two packs—because both of them were unbeatable.
“I like the sound of that,” Lexa says, smiling.
I move up to sit next to her, and when I take her hand, she doesn’t move away from me. When I turn to look at her, she still has her face turned towards me, her lips only an inch from mine.
“I need you, Lexa.” My words come out as a hushed whisper. It hurts my chest to let them out, as if my ribs have peeled back to expose my heart.
A flicker of doubt crosses her face, and my heart speeds up a little.
“I mean—the pack needs you,” I say. “All of us need you.”
