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“For this to be successful, you’ll need to bring a memory to the forefront of your mind, preferably one with a strong imprint of the surroundings.” He gave her an apologetic half-smile. “When I reach for it, you’ll have to let me in—but I promise I won’t go any further into your mind.”
Ava’s vision tilted as dread and terror pumped adrenaline through her blood. A part of her wanted to spin on her heel and bolt, forgoing the entire operation. If she told Aidan she couldn’t follow through, he wouldn’t hold it against her.
After eight centuries, the fear associated with Raeths was engrained. But her former alpha was right: if she didn’t at least attempt to move past it, she’d never be able to bring her parents’ murderers to justice.
“Do you need to touch my face?” She barely withheld the grimace.
Remmus gave her a toothless smile, apologetic. “It’d be easier that way, but it’s not necessary. If you’ll allow me, holding your hand would suffice.”
He extended his hand toward her, palm up, as she fought the urge to squirm. The urge to say no bubbled up within her, but accepting this small thing would help his cause—and hers.
When she gently placed her hand over his, the nausea she suspected would arise never did. Instead, the warmth of his skin was comforting, like returning home after weeks away. Her heartbeat slowed as the ball of tension in her stomach began to loosen.
A gentle caress brushed against her mind, nothing more than a whisper amid the scattered thoughts she couldn’t seem to contain. The invasion she’d braced for was instead almost sweet, the tender aftertaste almost enough to make her mouth soften into a smile.
He frowned. “What are you thinking about?”
“Sorry.”
Fighting a blush, Ava focused on the last memory she’d had with Sagan—a goodbye hug in front of the wide double doors that led into his den. It had been late spring and trees had budded around them. Sagan had invited her on a week-long hunt, and she’d had a blast with his pack. The getaway had been relaxing, but more importantly, she’d reconnected with an alpha—and good friend—she hadn’t seen in years.
The memory filled her, and in the next moment, she felt a secondary presence curl along its edges. It wasn’t intrusive, but supportive and cozy and right in a way that surprised her.
“I’ve got it.”
On the heels of his words, gravity shifted. Her vision cleared moments later to a familiar sight. They had landed just outside Sagan’s den in the gravel parking lot.
Bitter winter wind kicked up around them, and Ava suddenly wished she’d brought a jacket. Curling her arms around herself, she noticed Remmus looking expectantly at her. His eyes seemed to ask if she had been comfortable with the experience—but he didn’t voice it aloud.
“It worked.” She let her surprise color her voice.
He turned cocky on a dime. “Of course it did.”
As the bite of wind continued, her shoulders hiked up to her ears as she began to walk toward the doors. Before she could comment on the chill, Remmus held a dark fleece jacket out for her. He nodded to it when she only stared.
“You’re cold.”
“So?”
“It’s just a jacket. There are no conditions, I promise.” His eyes crinkled. “No pinky promises, blood oaths, or unbreakable vows attached, either.”
Her wolf’s hackles raised, but when his expression remained earnest, she curled her fingers around the material. Slipping her arms inside, she refocused on the den ahead of them.
“It’ll be nice to see Sagan again. Once pack, always pack.”
It was the unofficial werewolf creed. No matter how long they’d been apart, wolves always recognized each other. In the beginning, when werewolves were still a young breed, there was only one pack: Aidan’s. As they steadily increased their number, maintaining a territory large enough to hold everyone—and keep them happy—slowly became impossible.
The original pack had split a century later. Seth and Sagan both took a portion of Aidan’s wolves, while Ava had remained with him as one of his betas. Though they occasionally brought everyone back together in those early years, time and distance had proven difficult to manage.
As Riaz’s beta, she had fewer opportunities to travel the world—there was simply too much to do at home. With Cortana taking over some of the administrative and managerial work, she hoped that was once more a possibility.
Reinvigorated by the idea, Ava walked through the den’s front doors, and Remmus trailed behind her without speaking.
The warmth inside made her shoulders loosen. Built similarly to Riaz’s den, there was a large foyer which opened into a much larger gathering space. A massive alpha stood in the middle of it and greeted her with a rumbling growl.
“Ava!”
She walked into his embrace. “Been awhile, Sagan.”
