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Behind me, I knew my brother watched from the window. He would be able to sense the quarry coming closer in. His own urge to hunt would burn strong. But he was in no condition to challenge a barn cat right now, let alone a stag.
I knew what I had to do.
I lowered my head, communicating with my body. He wanted my mind, too. Tonight, I would not give it to him.
I worried for a moment. Was he strong enough? Just hours ago, I’d pulled Dragonsteel out of his shoulder. He would live, but that wound would have felled a lesser wolf for days if not weeks.
Anson let out a howl as if to answer the question I hadn’t asked.
Yes, he seemed to say. I am still the strongest wolf you’ll ever see. With that, he tore off into the woods.
I went after him, adrenaline coursing through me. My mouth watered. I barely felt my paws hit the ground. Anson was fast. Lethal. He tore through the woods, never breaking top speed even as he changed course, weaving, leaping over fallen branches. He was like the wind and the lightning combined. Magnificent. Glorious.
Deadly.
I saw the stag before he did. I broke left, chasing him toward Anson’s wolf. He let out a sharp bark, directing me toward him.
As the stag’s hooves hit the ground, he too caught Anson’s scent. But it was too late. Anson leaped out of nowhere, right into his path. Fangs out, claws extended, he ripped into the stag’s jugular, ending his life with mercy before the animal ever hit the ground.
I joined him, bloodlust still hammering through me. But Anson did not feed. Instead, he took a step back, waiting for me. He nudged the ground with his nose. Another message.
This kill was not for me either. It was for the others. I sat back on my haunches and howled, honoring the stag’s sacrifice.
Later, I walked by Anson’s side as he carried the freshly gutted deer over his shoulder. His strength awed me. He shouldn’t have been able to walk today, let alone hunt, let alone carry a two-hundred-pound animal over the shoulder he’d been shot through.
Wordlessly, we worked together, side by side, butchering the deer, packaging it for my family and the rest of the pack to eat. I put the packages in a crate and carried them up to the house.
Pat waited for me, standing in front of the extra refrigerator she kept on the back porch.
“She was asking for you,” Pat said. “She said your name, Tempest.”
I put a hand on Pat’s shoulder and walked upstairs to find my mother.
My father lay beside her, sleeping. Jarred was back in his room as well. I checked their breathing. Slow and steady. I pressed the back of my hand to Jarred’s forehead. His fever had broken for now, but he slept so hard he hadn’t sensed me come in.
I went back to my mother and father’s room. She lay on her side away from him. Her skin still looked so thin and translucent.
“Mama,” I whispered. “It’s Tempest. I’ve come back.”
Her eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open. I leaned down and gave her a kiss. I went to my father. He had a protective arm wrapped around my mother. I put a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him. He stirred, but stayed unconscious. Pat’s soft footsteps came up behind me.
“They’re okay,” she said. “For now. Let them sleep. The venison will do them all good. I’m going to make a stew.”
“Let me do that,” I said. “You’ve got to be dead on your feet.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “They’re getting better. That’s enough to give me strength for a decade, Tempest. Plus, you’re here. I don’t have to take care of them alone anymore.”
I hugged her. “What would we do without you, Granny Pat?”
She patted my back. “You won’t soon find out, I guess. Maybe I’ll live forever.”
“You should be with the Tullys,” I said. “When was the last time you checked on Uncle Luke?”
“I’m heading there now,” she said. “But there’s been no change. Tamryn’s taking care of him.”
Tamryn Tully was Luke’s mate. Unlike my mother, Tamryn was fully human, so she hadn’t gotten sick.
“Go now,” I said. “Stay as long as you like. I’ll man the fort here.”
