Page 75 of The Lunatics

“Here,” Michael said.

I turned to see him holding out his sweater. I took it from him and pulled it on, enveloped in his scent. “Thanks.”

He dropped down next to me and sat close, sharing heat with me while the fire slowly came to life in front of us. Smoke began to rise up, disappearing through an overhead crack in the rocks. A soft orange glow flitted over the walls of the cave.

Michael looked around us. “What is this place?”

“We think the hunters of the Cowasuck Tribe of the Western Abenaki Native Americans used to shelter in it during their longer hunts.”

“Do they still come here?”

I shook my head. “It’s too remote. From what I’ve been told, the first wolves to explore this cave found a few arrowheads and rotted scraps of leather. We turned them over to the local tribe. They made note of the cave’s location, but according to their records, it doesn’t hold any real significance to them. It’s just one of the waypoints that dotted these mountains, so they allow our occasional use of it. Like my birth pack, the White Mountain wolves formed an alliance with the Cowasuck and settled into land they didn’t use. Unlike the MacKenzie wolves, that alliance still holds.”

Michael’s expression turned solemn. “If only the original members of my pack had been so wise. We might not have driven the tribes from their lands, but we moved right in alongside the human settlers once they were gone.”

I winced. It was a story that was far too common among our kind. “Are you doing anything to make reparations now?”

He nodded. “A number of wolves have become activists, fighting alongside the tribes to regain their lands and rights, and we donate a lot of money toward advancing those rights in the statehouse, but it will never make up for the past.”

No. It wouldn’t.

We fell silent then, staring into the fire. I hadn’t heard anything about the Kolbecks backing Native rights. The only rumors thatcirculated concerning them were negative. It made me wonder what else I had wrong. Did they use their wealth and privilege to help others? Packs that were less well-off than they were? Maybe they really did weigh shifter advancement into every move they made.

I glanced over at Michael, my mate, a being who was more man than wolf and still an enigma to me. He’d accidentally bitten several holes through his threadbare T-shirt and was smeared with dirt, but I didn’t think pointing that out would go over too well right now. Nor would fixating on it. Because he was looking mighty attainable again.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I told him.

He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry you had to.”

“How we doing with the whole cessation of apologies thing?”

He shook his head. “About as well as we’ve handled everything else that’s come with the bond.”

“Hey, now. Be nice to us. We’re still alive. And we haven’t turned on each other yet.”

He shot me a look.

Oh, right.He’d literally just turned on me.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “For all the shit we’ve been through, I think we’re doing okay. Especially compared to others who were bonded to wolves they didn’t expect.”

“I’ll take your word for it, as I have nothing to gauge this against.”

I grinned. “I bet after a well-organized political engagement, our being mated has thrown you for a loop.”

“Understatement,” he said.

“You’re handling it well,” I told him. He tried to wave me off, but I didn’t let him. “Seriously, Michael. I am so grateful for how patient and kind you’ve been throughout this ordeal. And especially for the fact that you’re already making concessions for me.”

Warmth flowed over the bond. He looked down and picked a pine needle from his jeans. “Yes, well, you do like being the exception, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

I blinked at him. “You, uh, heard that over the bond earlier?”

He nodded.

Oh, Goddess.

“Anything else?” I squeaked.