44
Mo
It’s been three days since Darius tore out the alpha’s throat and passed the title to the newly elected member. Three days of rebuilding, of tending to Sophie, of watching the pack slowly emerge from the shadow that’s hung over them for years.
The cottage we’re staying in has become a sanctuary of sorts. Sophie sleeps most of the day, but each time she wakes, her eyes are a little clearer. Cassia says it’s normal, her body is catching up on years of deprivation, her mind protecting itself by shutting down while it processes what happened.
I’m sitting beside her bed when her eyes flutter open. Today, she actually looks at me, not through me.
“Mo?” Her voice is barely there, rough from disuse.
“I’m here.” I take her hand, so fragile I’m afraid it might break in mine. “I’m right here, Soph.”
She blinks slowly, like she’s trying to make sure I’m real. “You came back.”
“Of course, I came back. I’d never leave you.” My throat tightens. “I thought you were dead. All this time I thought…”
“They told me you were dead, too.” Her fingers tighten around mine, the first real strength I’ve felt from her. “Said you tried to escape and were killed.”
I swallow hard. “Well, they lied. And they’re gone now. They can’t hurt either of us anymore.”
She looks past me toward the window. “What happens now?”
“Now, you get better. We get you strong again.”
“And then what?”
I don’t have an answer for her yet. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Three days ago, I didn’t even know she was alive. Now I’m trying to figure out how to piece our lives back together.
“We figure it out together,” I tell her. “That’s all that matters.”
A shadow passes by the window. Large, four-legged.
The wolf hasn’t left his post since Sophie was brought here. He guards the cottage day and night, though there’s no threat left. The head alpha and his closest supporters are dead; Stuart was imprisoned, his fate to be decided by the new leaders. What’s left are the betas, who were as much prisoners as Sophie was, along with the few alphas who surrendered as soon as the attack began.
“He’s always there,” Sophie says, following my eyes to the window. “The big brown wolf.”
“That’s a friend. He’s an alpha from the pack Darius called for help.” I shrug. “Won’t budge. Even after I threatened to cut his dick off. Darius says he’s harmless. Been through his own trauma and hasn’t shifted back to human since.”
She nods, like this makes perfect sense, then closes her eyes again. “I’m so tired, Mo.”
“Then sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
And I am. Every time. I barely leave her side. I sleep in the chair beside her bed, eat whatever food Cassia or Elias brings, and watch my sister slowly come back to life.
On the fourth day, Sophie sits up on her own and asks for more food. On the fifth, she walks to the bathroom without help. On the sixth, she stands at the window, watching the large brown wolf. On the seventh, she asks to go outside.
“Are you sure?” I hover beside her as she pulls on the clothes.
“I need to see it,” she says. “All of it. I need to know it’s really over.”
I help her onto the porch. The wolf is there, as always, then proceeds to follow us as we walk slowly around the compound.
The place is transforming. The high fences are being torn down, the guard posts are dismantled, and all three packs are working together, clearing debris, repairing cottages, and replanting gardens that were trampled years ago.
“It could be like it was,” Sophie says quietly. “Before.”
I look at her. “You want to stay here?”