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“For now,” Kai continued, “you all should rest. You’ve had difficult travel, and something tells me it’s not going to get much easier. Enjoy this reprieve while it’s here.”
Part of me didn’t want to stop to rest. I needed to get to the bottom of things, and that would only happen if I kept moving. Unfortunately, even witches needed sleep.
My sleep just hadn’t been very restful lately.
I shivered at the memory of the vision from the previous night but quickly shut it down and rose to my feet. They ached and protested the action.
Please be on the first floor.
“Ryder,” Kai instructed, “show them to the guest rooms.”
Ryder nodded obediently and led us to the stairs. I barely held in my sigh. No one hurried up the multiple steps. I distracted myself from my aches and pains by admiring the familiar cabin’s beauty.
Portraits of ancient alphas hung on the wood-paneled walls. The hallway that led to the first floor of suites was lit by similar light fixtures. Bookshelves held countless werewolf historical literature. The first treaty of all supernatural beings, the coronation of the first Alpha of this pack, and the werewolves’ triumph over a long-ago war with the vampires were a few of them. Interspersed between the artwork and books were doors that led to the suites.
“Any of these are available,” Ryder said. “Have your pick.”
He stared pointedly at me.
“Let me know if you need anything, Frey.”
I rolled my eyes, and he grinned, then walked away.
“Good night, Freya!” Cadence called before shutting herself in the first suite to the left.
“Good night,” I answered half-heartedly.
“I wonder if she’s going to let me stay in there with her,” Walker said and laughed.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s quite independent, but she won’t want you sneaking off to the vampires without her, so she’ll probably be willing to negotiate.”
Walker shook his head. “What eleven-year-old is so determined to face vampires?” he asked.
I chuckled and flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I was at that age.”
“Yeah, but you’re crazy.”
“Says the one who shot a coven leader.”
“You practically begged for help!” he argued. Genuine fear lined his face. “You were out cold.”
I shrugged. “I had it handled.”
Walker rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You were doing a great job of getting captured.”
I laughed again. It was nice to speak to someone so openly. As the daughter of the Mother of our coven, I’d always had to watch my words around my fellow witches and even other supernatural creatures, like the wolves. Until Sybil’s passing, I could never complain too loudly about the Elders or speak freely about my peers and risk stirring up drama. From childhood, I’d always put the coven first.
With Walker, I could exist without judgment.
“Thank you,” I said, “for saving me.”
He shrugged, like he saved people’s lives all the time.
“Every second you don’t kill me is a risk for you,” he said. He lifted his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.
“Walker,” I said. “Please tell me you don’t feel guilty because I didn’t murder you.”
He chuckled.
