Page 44

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Sascha

Sascha stands with his pack on the edge of Madison land, squeezing Avery’s hand so hard both their knuckles creak. In the distance, a car drives slowly down the road, heading toward them.

Along the two-hour walk to the Madison pack lands, they swung by Forgotten Lake one last time.

Sheridan and Beryl fetched the remaining camping supplies from the cave while Sascha stood on the shore, tears streaming down his cheeks as he whispered useless apologies to his mom.

She’d be disappointed in him. So, so disappointed, and also angry and confused by how readily Sascha would abandon his pack for a scrawny werecreature.

She couldn’t have known how hard things were going to be for Sascha without her there to stand up for him.

They left the raft next to the rock where Sascha and Avery first made love. After sorting the supplies, the eight of them, shaky but united, walked to the meeting point.

Three figures exit the car. Sascha instantly recognizes Garrett and Jakob, but is surprised to identify Marty as the third person. He swallows hard, wondering what she thinks of the situation. With how much she reminds him of his mom, he expects the disapproval to sting extra deep.

When the twins stop, Marty keeps walking. Sascha looks to Avery, who nods, and they move forward to meet her together, hands still linked.

Marty stops to inspect where they're joined, then removes the large duffel bag from her shoulder and holds it out to him.

“I packed whatever of your belongings seemed most important, including seasonal clothes and all of your legal and medical documents. If you have no way to transport the rest of your wardrobe, those and your larger possessions can be shipped when you have available space. Should that be necessary, Petra is welcome to reach out. Any questions?”

Sascha purses his lips, then shakes his head. He takes the duffel with a mumbled “Thanks.” He expects sharp words now, but all Marty does is glance past him at the other six members of their pack.

After a moment, Marty nods and holds out her hand. “Garrett, please.” Garrett picks up a suitcase Sascha hadn’t noticed him towing, and presents the handle to Marty.

Though he tries not to, Sascha meets both his cousins’ eyes.

They had tried to get closer to him, even though resented them for how they were seen as more capable.

There will be no resolving that now. Maybe they want to say something, but they don’t, not even ‘goodbye.’ Avery tugs Sascha’s hand, breaking his concentration from the guilt in the twins’ eyes.

Sascha turns to leave with him, then is surprised when Avery doesn’t move.

The implication of the suitcase in Marty’s hand doesn’t land until she says, “That’s all, boys,” to Garrett and Jakob, then walks past Sascha and Avery. Petra immediately goes to her side, and they embrace tightly.

Sascha is too scared to make an assumption, even though the visual is clear, but Avery picks up what he’s unable to grasp .

He turns to Marty with a smile. “Welcome to our pack. I’m Avery, Sascha’s mate and co-alpha. What’s your name?”

Without hesitation, Marty smiles back. “You can call me Aunt Marty.”

Sascha’s brow furrows. “Aunt Marty, what are you doing? Dad won’t let you come back if you leave like this.”

She sniffs. “I refuse to follow an alpha who’d disown his own child over who he loves, so I need somewhere else to go. Conveniently, you’ll be needing someone to keep an eye on your nutritional intake, so I’m asserting my authority upfront.”

Avery, the traitor, laughs outright and doesn’t look a bit sorry, even when Sascha elbows him. “So you’re the one who makes him eat vegetables! Double welcome, then.”

“Let’s just go,” Sascha grumbles, flicking him in the ear, then doing it again when he only laughs louder.

Petra breaks away to call out to the twins, who haven’t moved despite being dismissed. “Jakob, remind Samuel not to forget our agreement. He doesn’t get to renege on account of an entirely unrelated decision.”

“I’ll mention it,” Jakob says. “Goodbye, Petra. And good luck.”

Scoffing, Petra turns on her heel. “We’ve got one more place to go before we can get out of here,” she informs the pack, reaching to link one arm with Marty’s and the other with Beryl’s. “And then, I think, things will get a lot easier for us.”

“I sure hope so,” Avery says with a smile. This time, when Avery tugs Sascha’s hand, it’s a signal to leave.

Sascha walks away from the Madison pack lands, leaving behind his name and history, along with any wistfulness for the future he was never going to see. He’s found—and fought for—the promise of a much better one.

“Petra, what the fuck.”

Sascha has heard Petra cackle more today than he has all his previous years under her care. She does so now, just as full-bellied as when they were on the boat and she was taunting them by denying them knowledge of their mate bond. “I told you Samuel promised to replace my car.”

“This isn’t a car,” Sascha says, as if she doesn’t know. “This is a goddamn motorhome.”

“If it drives, it’s a car. Anyway, how else do you propose we get nine people out of here?”

“Does anyone actually know how to drive one of these things?” Avery asks, sounding curious rather than exasperated, unlike Sascha.

Zuhr raises her hand. “I used to be a trucker, before…”

“Yeah,” Sascha says quickly because no one needs to think of Celeste, her abusive leadership, or the way her shattered skull leaked gore down her vacant features while she hung like a white flag of surrender. “Okay, fine. Zuhr can drive the… vehicle.”

Avery snickers.

Sascha ignores him, continuing: “I still want to know how you found it in the first place.”

Petra unlocks the door, then tosses the keys to Zuhr.

“It’s a wild story, but not a long one. A man whose sister mated into the pack and brought him along, he had a human girlfriend.

They got in a fight, and she shot him right through the leg.

While he was in the clinic getting patched up, he started sniveling about how she was selling the motorhome they had planned to move in together after they got married.

That’s what they were yelling about, apparently.

Anyway, I went to see if it was still in her possession.

Then I sent Samuel a gentle suggestion about the replacement car I’d like.

He must be feeling guilty because even used this cost twice what a new car would have. ”

“Oh my god,” Charlie says as he climbs into the obscenely large vehicle that is, Sascha is forced to acknowledge, their new temporary home. “This thing is a piece of shit.”

“Charlesh!” Zuhr snaps, rushing up the stairs after him.

“Even this will be cramped for nine people,” Avery murmurs, watching the other pack members filter inside.

Sascha sucks in a long, deep inhale, then squeezes the back of Avery’s neck, tugging at those long, bleached curls. “This is what we chose.”

“Yeah.” Avery knocks his hip into Sascha’s thigh. “It’s gonna be great.”

“Sharing a single tiny bathroom between nine people is not going to be great.”

“Too late to change your mind now!” Then Avery smacks Sascha’s ass and takes off like a firecracker, attempting to climb into the motorhome only to collide with Beryl on their way out.

Sascha watches them fumble down the stairs, Beryl grumbling when Avery musses their hair before attempting another entry, successfully this time. A warm, satisfied weight settles in Sascha’s stomach, grounding him in a way that’s as unfamiliar as it is welcome.

Comforted by the tether connecting him to the people inside the motorhome, Sascha rocks back on his heels and finally allows himself to laugh.

The foreclosed old mansion is a falling-apart disaster zone.

Even so, the mortgage down payment nearly wipes out Sascha’s inheritance in one fell swoop.

It’s located in a terrifying corner of Detroit where most of the buildings around them are barred up and burned out, shattered windows and boards like broken teeth.

But it has ten rooms, three and a half mostly -functional bathrooms, and is within walking distance of a bus stop, even if the DDOT is competing for the most pathetic bus system in the state. Still an improvement considering Bliss Township didn’t have any public transportation.

They’ll all need to get jobs. Figuring out repairs is going to be hellish.

Transportation to work so they can afford food and utilities and the aforementioned repairs and mortgage is going to be a persistent problem until they can afford one or two cars.

The decrepit motorhome in which they lived for several months—cramped, bitchy, sweaty, and restless as they learned how to coexist—broke down, planting them permanently in Metro Detroit like Dorothy’s house crash-landing in Oz.

It takes a week just to scrub all the surfaces, and Sascha doesn’t try to count how long after that they spend sleeping on gross floor futons in echoing empty rooms with huge centipedes on the walls and corner cobwebs full of woodlice corpses.

They eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches, order hot-n-ready pizzas, and complain about how the price has gone up.

After seeing the water that comes from their faucets, Marty splurges on Brita filters, because no.