Page 30 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack (Return to Wolf Creek #4)
Chapter 30
Ethan
The hum of the motorcycle beneath me is a steady, familiar rhythm, grounding me as we glide down the open road. Grace’s warmth at my back is another anchor, a constant presence that I can’t help but lean into. Every so often, I feel her shift slightly, the press of her body against mine reassuring in a way that words can’t quite capture.
“Ethan?” Her voice comes through the com, soft but clear, carrying a note of urgency that sharpens my focus.
“Yeah?” I reach back, resting a hand on her knee to let her know she has my full attention, even as I keep my eyes on the road.
“We need to head that way.” I feel her lean forward, her arm pointing off to the right, more towards the mountains. There’s a quiet confidence in her gesture, a certainty that tells me she’s locked onto something.
I glance down at the map program on my phone mounted to the handlebars. “How far that way?” I ask, scanning for our best route. There’s a major highway coming up, but if we need to divert, I need to know how long and how far.
I feel a low, rumbling vibration against my back, the telltale sign of her wolf coming through in her chest. “A long time,” she murmurs, her voice almost a growl. “It’s cold where she is now.”
“Canada, then,” I say, nodding slowly as I pat her knee again. I open up the com to loop in the others riding with us. “Seems like we’re heading north. Grace says it’s cold where Lily is, so we’re heading to Canada. Plan is to take I-75 straight up. Depending on weather and how far we have to go, we may need to put the bikes in lockers and take the van from there.”
The acknowledgment from the others comes through a series of clicks and quick responses. I feel the energy shift around us, the subtle tension of our pack settling in, as they process the change in plans. I squeeze Grace’s knee, feeling the steady beat of her heart through my glove.
“Well, looks like we might need to take the van. Does everyone have passports? I have mine with me,” Nic says, glancing back at us.
I let out a groan. “Well, fuck me running. No, I don’t have a passport.” Grace laughs, a sound that eases the tension I feel crawling up my spine.
“Me neither,” she chuckles. “Ambrose?” she adds, looking over her shoulder at him in the van behind us.
“Nope,” he replies, a hint of a growl creeping into his voice. “Figures she’s in Canada. Lot of trophy hunters up there. And collectors.” The word “collector” rolls off his tongue like a curse, his voice dropping an octave as a low, menacing growl escapes him.
“Alright, so before we hit the border, we stash the bikes in a storage locker and shift,” I suggest, watching Grace’s reaction in my mirror.
“So we illegally cross the border as wolves?” She raises an eyebrow, an amused glint in her eyes. “I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket, and now I’m breaking into Canada.”
“First time for everything,” Nic chimes in with a hearty laugh.
We take the sweeping curve onto the on-ramp for I-75; the bikes roaring beneath us, vibrations humming through my body. “We need to refuel the bikes and find a storage locker once we get close to the border,” I say, eyeing the road ahead.
“I found a rest stop near the border, in Shoreland,” Ambrose chimes in. “Storage place is called Spare Box. I’ll call ahead and set up to get both bikes in.” His voice drops for a few moments as he makes the arrangements, then we hear him click back in. “I prepaid. The owner just texted me the combo for the gate. Nic has a padlock here in the cupholder, so we’re all set.” Ambrose says, and I can hear something hitting plastic.
“There’s a rest area up ahead. We’ll stop there and refuel,” I call out over the coms, eyes steady on the road ahead. Grace’s arms tighten around my waist, her warmth pressing into my back. She gives me a squeeze, and just like that, everything feels right.
“I need to pump and eat,” she says, her words trailing off in a yawn that I feel as much as hear.
“You probably need a nap too,” Nic offers gently over the line, his tone full of that careful patience he’s always had with her.
“Definitely need a nap,” Grace murmurs, another yawn escaping her as she leans more of her weight into me.
I focus on the road, considering our plan. “So, how are we doing this?” Ambrose’s voice comes through the coms, his tone thoughtful. “Nic will take over driving the van, and the three of us will shift and ride in the back. Then, when we get close to the border, he sets us loose, and we meet back up on the other side?”
I stare at the road as the rest stop comes into view. “It seems the most logical. By the looks of the map, we’ll have to swim across and meet Nic on the other side. I’m not sure where the border checkpoint is, but we’ll make it work.”
I guide the bike off the road and into the parking lot, pulling up to the pumps. Nic follows, and Ambrose takes the spot next to me. I refuel as Nic approaches, taking Grace from me with a practiced ease.
“What’s the plan?” Ambrose motions to the map spread out over the van hood. The faint scent of pine and damp earth mixes with the gasoline fumes, and the early evening light dips low, casting shadows over the lines we’ll soon cross.
“We’ll stash the bikes at the locker in Shoreland,” I explain, double-checking the coordinates. “Then Nic drives the van through while the three of us shift and swim across, meeting him on the other side.”
“Looks like there’s a train yard on the other side,” I say, studying the map closely. “It’ll be risky, but fewer humans will hang around there at this hour.” I scroll the map up a bit, tracing a route. “Just as Nic turns on to 550, there’s a conservation area nearby. We could meet him there.” I point to Fort Creek, just over the border, an ideal spot to regroup after we cross.
When Grace and Nic return, she’s nibbling on a sandwich, the sound of the pumps humming quietly. Nic hands out two thick subs, one each for Ambrose and me. I nod my thanks, already planning the next move. Ambrose explains our route and timing, his voice blending with the low rumble of passing traffic. I lead Grace back to the van, her movements a little slower, a sign of the toll this connection is taking.
Inside, I settle her on the air mattress, propping her up with blankets, making sure she’s comfortable. I sit beside her, placing my hand on her thigh, my thumb working small circles over her muscle. “How are you holding up? It’s been a long run,” I ask, watching her face for signs of pain or fatigue.
Grace lets out a soft sigh, leaning into the touch. “I’m a little stiff, but otherwise, okay.” She closes her eyes briefly, then continues. “We’re getting closer. She’s still further north, but not horribly far. She remembers seeing a game preserve sign. It’s hidden deep in the woods up there.” Her voice trails into a yawn, her connection to Ambrose’s mate clearly draining her energy.
“Take a nap.” I keep my voice low, soothing. “I’ll check the map for preserves up north and see if I can find anything. I’ll wake you when we need to shift and swim.” I lean down, brushing a gentle kiss against her lips, and wrap her up snugly in the blankets.
She murmurs an “okay,” then shifts to remove the pumps and tend to the milk, her movements slow and deliberate. I stay close, watching over her as she settles in, her breathing evening out as exhaustion finally wins.
I close the van door quietly, leaving Grace to rest, though I know her mind is still reaching out, searching. Walking back to the others, I pull out the map, tracing my finger along the paths and preserves in the direction she feels her, knowing every minute matters. Ambrose joins me, his eyes flickering with the tension he’s barely holding back.
“What are you looking for?” he asks, his voice taut.
I arch a brow at him, letting a smile slip onto my face. “Your mate remembers seeing a game preserve sign on the way in,” I explain, tapping the map where I suspect she might be. “So I’m focusing where Grace senses her.”
A laugh escapes my lips as I point at one location. “Bingo. This is the only preserve in the direction Grace indicated. And the description from your mate fits.” My finger rests firmly on the Chapleau Crown Game Preserve. According to the map, the area is supposed to be an open space, but one dense part of the woods stands out, almost like it’s hiding something.
Ambrose’s face is a whirlwind of emotions—hope, disbelief, maybe even fear. He nods, and I see the weight of it settle in his eyes.
“The only downside,” I continue, feeling the sting of my concern, “is that it’s exhausting Grace to keep that contact steady.”
Nic steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder as he looks between me and the van. “I’ll take over driving so Ambrose can stretch out for a bit,” he says, his voice low but steady. “Grace might sleep better with me there.”
“Then let’s do that. Nic, you drive Ambrose and I will take the bikes.” Everyone heads off to their vehicle of choice and waits for me to take the lead. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long trip.
We take our time moving through Michigan, finally pulling up to the storage units to leave our bikes behind. I hate it, but it’s the only way we’ll all make it across. When we left nearly ten hours ago, I didn’t think we’d be crossing into another country, but here we are.
Ambrose and I climb into the back, where Grace is sound asleep, her breathing soft and steady. I catch him watching her, a softness in his gaze that makes something tighten in my chest. “You guys are really lucky,” he whispers, careful not to disturb her.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Nicolai responds from the driver’s seat, pulling the van back onto the road.
I place my hand on Ambrose’s shoulder, hoping to reassure him. “We’ll have your mate soon. Grace is determined to bring her home.”
Ambrose sighs, his gaze shifting to Grace as she breathes in and out, blissfully unaware of our conversation. “I don’t want to risk your mate to save mine,” he mutters, the weight of it pressing down on him as we sit like a pair of creeps, watching Grace sleep.
I try to steer him back to the plan, hoping it’ll ease his mind. “We’ll stake out the preserve, figure out the best course of action. It’s what Grace wants, to help you.”
Nic speaks up from the front. “We’ll make one more stop before customs. Let everyone eat well before the swim—that water’s going to be freezing.” He takes an off-ramp before we hit customs, driving slowly through town.
As we roll past a stretch of trees and old buildings, I notice Grace stir. Her head shifts slightly, and her gaze flickers out the window. Something out there has caught her attention, and I feel a prickle of curiosity settle over me. This might just be the moment that brings her fully awake, ready for what lies ahead.
“I smell pizza.” Grace’s tone has a low growl to it, like a wolf just waking and ready to hunt. She stretches, looking around slowly, every movement deliberate. When her head tilts back, her eyes catch sight of Ambrose sitting nearby, and something softens in her gaze.
“Last time you were over me, I was dying,” she murmurs, her voice raw but edged with a smile. Reaching up, she touches his face gently, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “Even in your wolf form, I saw the kindness in your eyes. I knew I was safe.”
Her words linger, the unspoken gratitude between them thick in the air. I reach out and help her sit up, steadying her as she shifts her attention to me.
“We’re going to make sure the three of you eat your fill before the swim,” Nic calls from the front seat, his voice grounding us all with practical assurance.
Grace scoots into my lap, her warmth settling against me as she leans back, resting her head on my shoulder. “She knows we’re closer,” she murmurs, her voice carrying a dreamy, almost distant quality, like she’s listening to something only she can hear.
“Don’t overtax yourself, Grace. We’ve got a tough swim ahead of us,” Ambrose cautions, his gaze steady as he reaches out to hold her hand. There’s a quiet intensity in his touch, a silent promise of support that reassures us both.
Grace nods, her eyes slipping shut as she leans back into me, surrendering to the comfort of the moment. “I need to pump again, and eat,” she says softly, determination in her tone, even in her exhaustion. “Then I should be good for a while.”
As Nic parks the van, I give Grace a gentle squeeze before she slips out of my lap and follows him. Her steps are slower, thoughtful, but there’s a quiet strength in her that makes me smile. Watching her walk away, knowing she’s ready for what lies ahead, fills me with a renewed sense of purpose.
I watch them walk into the restaurant, their figures disappearing through the door, and I let out a sigh, turning my focus back to the maps spread across the dashboard. “It’s slack tide for the next two hours, so we’ve got that in our favor.” I rotate the map to face Ambrose, tapping a small, nondescript point of land.
“If Nic drives out to the island and drops us here, then doubles back, it saves us some running.” I trace the route with my finger, pointing out the patch of green coverage just before the main canal. “It’s got enough tree cover to shield us from view. Good place to leave from.”
“Sounds solid,” Ambrose mutters, but his eyes are already distant, staring out the window toward where we need to go. The tension radiating off him is palpable, coiled and ready to strike. His jaw is set, his gaze steely, but there’s that edge of desperation in his silence, an itch that won’t let him sit still.
I can’t blame him. If it were my mate out there, my wolf would claw to the surface, ready to tear through anything in the way. Ambrose’s mate is more than just a woman he cares about— she’s his sanity, his reason, his anchor. Without her, he’s a fuse already lit, and I’m the only thing standing between him and the wildfire he’s ready to unleash.