“Well, it isn’tmyplan.” Bill stood aside, letting Loren take his place. “It’s hers.”
She handled the spotlight well, her head high. Bill couldn’t deny his admiration, even though a part of him railed against putting her in danger even for a second.
“It’s risky,” Loren said. “And dangerous, but if we all play our part, it could work.”
Micha and Naomi shared a look.
“I’m in,” the former declared.
The blond had her lips pursed but nodded in the end.
“That settles it,” Bill said warily. “Now, we put the pieces into action.”
Win or lose, there was no turning back now.
He was ready to fight for his home.
And let the cards fall where they may.
32
The sun had barely finished its descent toward the horizon as Loren left the campsite alone and hit the open forest.
She ran blindly. Not long into the sprint, her lungs heaved, her pulse surging through her eardrums. In contrast, the world around her became a muted, blurred backdrop. She didn’t even see a figure lunge from the shadows until it was too late.
Wham!Strong arms caught her by the shoulders, holding her close to a body that seemed cut from stone. His touch was all wrong—too firm. Not McGoven. The scent flooding her lungs cemented that fear. This man was a stranger.
“Let go of me!” Panicked, she swung her arms, kicking her legs. Only when she paused to suck in air, did she hear the person holding her shout.
“It’s okay! It’s alright,” they insisted. “Who are you?”
Heart pounding, she whirled around to face a tall man with dark hair. He watched her warily, flicking over her filthy, tangled hair before settling over her mud-splattered jeans and sweater. She couldn’t discern what impression—if any—she made.
“Do you know where you are?” He inclined his head, calling attention to the two men behind him watching from a slight distance.
The landscape surrounding them was rugged, unfamiliar terrain—nothing like the gentle, rolling hills of New Walsh. It was frigid. Every intake of air stabbed through her chest with a mixture of foreign smells.
“Black Mountain,” she said. “I’m here to see Lukka.”
The man frowned, and she couldn’t tell what he thought. As his eyes flickered toward the woods behind her, she felt a tendril of alarm gnaw at her confidence. He was suspicious. “Where is your pack? What are—”
“I came here for a reason,” she said over him. “Bring Lukka to me. Please. I’ll only speak to him. He should know who I am.”
“The Alpha?” the man replied, frowning. “Who are you? I can’t just—”
“Tell him that Loren Connors is here to beg for his acceptance,” she said. “Please.”
His eyes widened, but she couldn’t tell if he recognized the name or not. From the corner of her eye, she saw that more men appeared, lurking in the shadows, watching. Luckily, confusion seemed more prevalent than hostility.
The one nearest her, cocked his head, speaking to someone behind him. “Send word to the main house,” he said. “Let’s see what they decide.”
“They” being Lukka? For a heartbeat, she longed to have Bill’s guidance—or at least his ability to explain what might be happening. Just as quickly, she smothered the weakness and just watched.
And waited.
Minutes seemed to crawl past as she and the men surrounding her remained at a quiet impasse.
Finally, two men parted, and one figure appeared between them, his hair golden, his eyes a haunting blue.