“I know that,” he sighed, brushing his hand against my arm apologetically. “I didn’t mean it that way. You all are just so precious to us, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”
“Well, you’re precious to us, too,” I scolded. “So, don’t go getting into any more trouble like this, I like you in one piece.” He smiled crookedly but stayed silent as I cleaned and bandaged him. His wounds would be healed by nighttime, but I didn’t want blood dripping on the bedspread.
The moment I set the cotton and bottle down on the bedside table, Rush pulled me down on top of him. I giggled as his hand skimmed down my back to my butt, squeezing it playfully.
“Excuse me, sir,” I teased. “You are an injured man, and you need to rest-doctor’s orders.”
He smiled without teeth, his eyes squinted, and he relaxed back. “Don’t worry, I have to go meet Beckett and my father anyway.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” I tutted, shaking my head. “You’re under strict orders from your physician to lay right there and let me make you feel better.” My fingers looped his belt out of the clasp as I spoke.
He laughed loudly and threw his head back. “Sloane, as much as I love this, and you, I really need to make sure the rest of the pack is secure first.” His hand grabbed the leather piece from my fingers and threaded it back through the opening.
“Fine,” I grumbled, patting his leg. “I guess we will just have to continue this later.”
He leaned over and kissed my lips. “I will take you up on that offer.”
As quickly as Rush came into our room, he was gone again, leaving me with nothing to do but knit and read. I shuffled through my stack of books and found a plain, black, leather-bound journal that had yet to be written in.
I decided to write down my ideas about the war and all the information I had collected so far, from the address to Hazel’s house to the description of every human that had been on our territory. My phone wasn’t as secure as I hoped it would be, and it would only be a matter of time before either Rush or the humans found the information stored on the device.
I tucked the journal back in the pile of books and walked downstairs to find Kenna. As I climbed down the stairs, two younger children passed me, climbing the opposite way. The young girls smiled and blushed as they passed me, their cheeks warming as I smiled back at them.
It finally felt like I could walk around the packhouse with my head held high, no longer weighed down by the disapproval of Cordelia or the death of my sister.
I peeked around one corner and saw Beckett talking to another man. His head lifted, and his eyes fell heavy before he walked away from the man towards me.
“Luna, do you have a minute?” His voice was thick with worry.
“Of course.” I nodded, stepping closer to him.
“Actually, can we speak privately?”
I was hesitant but followed him to his office, nonetheless. Once we were inside, he closed the door softly behind him and motioned for me to sit in one of the office chairs. He said in the chair opposite me and crossed his ankles, and wrung his hands out nervously.
“Luna, I need to apologize to you.” He looked at me honestly.
“Beckett, you’ve already apologized, if that’s all that this is about.” I let the words sink in and leaned forward, ready to stand up.
He shook his head and looked at me more directly. “Please, just hear me out.” I sat back in my seat. “I really didn’t mean to be so rude to you when we first met. I didn’t even realize how terrible I was being until your sister’s funeral when you lashed out.”
“I’m not apologizing for that,” I warned.
“No, I don’t expect you to, you’d have no reason. I just need you to know why I was like that. I’m not usually that outright horrible. I know I’m callous and reserved even, but to talk to you in such a way and to treat you in such a way when you are my Luna was absolutely unacceptable.” He shook his head, and his eyes became glassed over, not with tears, but with a distant emotion. “You remind me of my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“I did.” He smiled grimly and leaned over his knees, elbows resting on his thighs, head resting on his hands. “A younger sister, she was four years younger than me. She was killed three years ago.”
I didn’t know what to say, I never did when death was involved.
“She was actually killed by a rogue.” He nodded to me once, eyebrows raised. “She was a fast talker, quick-witted; it got her into a lot of trouble. She was always running off, running her mouth. She never meant anything by it, but the spy that crossed our territory didn’t know that. She was so confident, ready to fight her off, so damn confident. The wolf tore Sahara to shreds, and then she walked out of our territory like nothing had happened.”
I remained quiet and listened to him painfully talk about his sister.
“You look like her; the same brown hair, round eyes, loud personality, stubborn, strong.” His lip twitched. “When I first saw you, it was like she was taunting me because I couldn’t save her. Like you were sent here to constantly remind me of that. But you weren’t, and I know that now. And when you lost your sister,” his voice faded out.
“We both lost our sisters,” I filled in, looking around, trying to blink the tears from my eyes.
“It wasn’t fair to either of us,” he growled. “It wasn’t fair to them.”
“I know,” I told him. “That’s why you have to help me stop this war, Beckett. No one else needs to
