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What an asshat, I thought. This proves nothing.
Freya offered me a pitiful smile.
“She’s right,” Freya said. “We better get moving. Walker, I don’t know how, but I think she might be—”
“Don’t say it,” I begged and held my hands up. “Nothing against witches—when you guys aren’t trying to kill me—but I just can’t hear it right now. My baby sister is still my baby sister.”
Freya nodded.
“She is,” she said, “regardless of anything.”
Chapter Eleven
Walker
Freya magically suffocated the fire, and we were on our way. My body ached from yesterday’s travel and my night on the hard ground, but at least the remnants of pain had left my calf. Only a star-shaped scar remained. It might’ve been a pentagram, but I refused to acknowledge it.
Just too creepy.
All of us were quieter than before. Only the rustling of animals, chirping crickets, and never-ending wind filled the woods. I worried about Cady. Whatever she’d seen, it had left her rattled. She never went more than three seconds without talking. About two hours into our walk, she broke her silence.
“I’m hungry,” she announced.
The familiar statement calmed some of my fears. Cady was always hungry.
“We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” Freya assured her.
“And we’ll have plenty of food,” Ryder added. “Us werewolves like to eat.”
The werewolf had been nicer to my sister since the incident in the cave. Despite his prejudiced reasons, I was grateful. It made him slightly more bearable to be around. I wondered if the other wolves shared his warped views of humans. As we walked right into their den, I hoped not.
We crested a hill, and a huge field came into view. In the center of the swaying grasses and sparse trees was a giant log cabin. It stretched three stories high and was nearly as wide as it was tall. Thick cedar columns surrounded the rectangular structure, which was embellished with green windowpanes.
Several people lounged on its wraparound porch. I could barely see their tan silhouettes in the distance, but I noticed they wore little clothes in the brisk weather. It must’ve been a werewolf thing.
Maybe they always feel the warmth of their fur, even when they aren’t wearing it.
As we walked closer, the giant doors of the cabin swung open. An equally giant man barged through them. He had Ryder’s freaky yellow eyes and tan complexion, but he was probably in his mid-forties. Smile lines surrounded his eyes, and his black hair was graying. He wore a plaid shirt that was unbuttoned to reveal his hairy chest and jeans, but he wore no shoes. Somehow, he made the look dignified.
I gulped but refused to take the step back that my body craved.
The worst thing to do to a predator was to let it know you feared it.
Cadence stood beside me with a friendly smile across her face. She clearly was unbothered by whatever macho energy this guy radiated. The wolves who had traveled with us walked to our sides and bowed their giant heads at the man.
Ryder did too, in his human form.
The man nodded at them, and they rose, then ran off to the other side of the cabin. The werewolves who’d been lounging on the porch jumped into the woods and shifted midair to join them. One second, they were people. The next, they were wolves.
“Cool,” Cadence muttered.
The huge man quirked his head at her, and I braced myself for him to be offended somehow. Instead, he laughed. The deep timbre of it echoed across the field.
“It is, isn’t it?” he said to her. He walked down the steps, right in front of my sister, and reached out his hand. “I’m Kai. I’m the Alpha of this pack, and that’s my son, Ryder. He didn’t bother you too much, did he?”
Cadence took his hand and gave it a hearty shake.
“He’s all right,” she said. “I don’t think he likes my brother too much though.”
