Revolting

Chapter Thirty Six - Safety William

I felt like I was floating on a cloud. The whole drive home, my hand was resting on Heath's. The need to be touching him, to be connected to him was overpowering, and the comfort and contentment I got when he turned his hand and laced his fingers through mine was... there just weren't enough words for how amazingly right it felt. The collar of my shirt kept rubbing against the fresh mark on my neck, but I didn't pull it away. It was like I needed that rather raw reminder that we were now mated for life.

I had found my soulmate. I couldn't keep my eyes on the road, I had to keep sneaking glances over at him. He looked unbelievably hot in the clothes I'd bought for him. Sexy, and a little uncomfortable. He'd unbuttoned the shirt, as though it was choking him, and rolled the cuffs back up to his elbows, revealing his powerful forearms. Mine, I thought, squeezing his fingers slightly. Heath was mine. And I was his. And the world was fucking perfect.

Details... there were minor details to work out... where we would live. Whether or not he would ever find it in himself to trust my pack. We hadn't talked much about those things yet, but I was confident that we would work it out. We had to, because we were fated to be together. My mom was right, totally right. The goddess knew what she was doing. Now that I had found Heath, I knew it had to be him. It had always been him.

I was going to have to call my mom, tell her the good news. I knew she would be happy for me. She might not have always loved my choices, but she loved me, and she wanted me to be happy. I'd leave it to her to tell my father. No doubt he'd be disappointed to know that my mate was, in fact, a man. I know he'd always held out some hope that my mate would be a woman, and I'd be magically snapped out of my sexual preference. I cut another glance at my mate and smiled to myself. Sorry Pops, I thought, he's all man, and absolutely gorgeous. I felt pride swelling in my chest.

We still needed to sit down and talk with Shane about the situation with Michael. I told Heath the name of his assailant. Michael Bishop. His nose wrinkled up, and his brow furrowed. "I've heard of him," he grumbled. "Other rogues talk about him."

"Let's go talk with Shane. I have some suggestions, but I need to run it by my Alpha first."

We climbed out of the car, and then as though we were pulled by magnets, we came together again, side by side. I placed my hand against the small of his back and guided him up on to the old sagging porch, just because. Because I needed to touch him. I opened the door and let us inside. The smell of frying bacon tickled my nose, and I turned and grinned at him. "It looks like we are just in time for breakfast."

I could feel his discomfort and unease through the bond that now joined us, but at the mention of food, he perked up. "Breakfast?" I grinned to myself. Didn't they say that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach? It seemed like that was at least partially true for Heath. We turned into the dining room and saw the pack family was gathered around the tables. Heath's eyes found his sister, and I felt some of the tension ease out of him. It looked like Daisy had been playing dress-up with the girl. She had her strawberry blond hair piled up in some fancy style on top of her head, some make up had been artfully applied to her eyes and her lips, and some colorful beads had been draped around her neck. She wore a sundress that was just a bit too big for her tiny frame, but she looked cute none the less. The best part was her shy smile at the two of us.

Without words being spoken, people scooted over, and someone found extra chairs so that we could squeeze in. It was a little crowded, but I sure didn't mind bumping elbows with Heath while he plowed his way through the generous plate of eggs and bacon that Daisy had slid before him. She gave me wink as she delivered my plate, and then slid into her spot between Hannah and Gabe.

I wish I could communicate to Heath that this was what it was like to be in a pack, all the time, every day. We accommodated each other, we helped each other. We had each other's backs. Sure sometimes there was bickering and squabbling, just as there was in any family, but for the most part, there was love, loyalty, and safety.

It was his safety I was concerned with now. When the others had cleared out, I asked Shane and Nina to stay behind. "We didn't finish our conversation the other day... about the poisoned arrow."

Shane sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding, "Go on."

I cleared my throat. "The arrows weren't shot by a human were-hunter," I glanced at Heath, who was rubbing his shoulder with a wrinkled brow. "It was Bishop."

Nina sat up and looked surprised. "Alpha Bishop?" She clarified. "Michael Bishop?"

I nodded miserably and looked away from her golden-brown eyes. I felt that sliver of shame, knowing that my lover had almost killed my mate. I hadn't shot the arrow, but somehow I felt partially responsible for the fact that my boyfriend, my EX-boyfriend, was a cold-blooded killer. "He has some weird vendetta against all rogues. Hunting them is like an obsession of his. He said he orders the poison from a chemist in Canada."

Shane swore. "If knowledge of this new poison gets out, it could be bad, really bad. If it gets into the wrong hands--"

"It's already in the wrong hands," I growled.

Shane gave me a censoring look, "It could get a lot worse."

""

I picked up my fork and played with a grape, chasing it around my plate. "I'd like to ask permission for Heath and his sister to move their camp on to Rebel Moon lands. They aren't safe in neutral territory. If Michael realizes his prey isn't dead, he'll be back to finish the job."

Michael

It wasn't hard to find the rogue camp in the woods. They had been truly careless, almost as if they wanted me to find them. Almost as if they were rubbing my nose in the fact that they had gotten away the first time.

It almost looked like a kid's hang out. There was a lean-to built from white pine boughs. I doubt it was enough to keep them dry when it rained. There was a fire-hole with a neat stack of firewood, a collection of dishes that looked like they had been sourced from someone's trash heap.

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My scout stuck his hand in the cold fire pit and shook his head. "They've been gone for a while," he observed. "Fifteen, sixteen hours."

I looked around at the rags that had been carefully washed and spread over the bushes to dry. "They'll be back," I said confidently.

My scout was sniffing around the fire. "There's a third wolf here," he said with a frown. "The other day there were only two."

I shrugged. Two, three, it didn't matter. The more the merrier. They'd all be dead. I gripped my bow as I caught their scents. Yes, yes, vaguely familiar from the day I shot the male in the woods. You could tell they were rogues by the way ozone tinged the scent. Like laundry that had been hung outside on the line to dry, you could smell the wildness on these wolves. They hadn't crossed the line over to feral. Feral wolves had a strong smell of musk and decay.

As I got closer to the fire pit, I also picked up the scent of the third wolf, and my skin began to prickle. I dropped to my knees and pressed my face close to the earth and pine needles. There was an obvious depression here, as though someone had been sleeping on the bare ground.

"I know that scent," I growled. It was as if someone had taken bellows and pumped fresh air right into the fire of my rage. William had been here. That rogue loving bastard! The pieces were starting to click together in my brain. He'd been here, he'd probably been helping them this whole time. They were alive because of him! And when he found my rogue-hunter arrows, he lost his shit. Oh yeah, it was all making sense now. I felt my lips curling in a mirthless smile. It would be even sweeter when I dropped their filthy bodies at his feet.

"Fall back," I ordered the Ten. "They'll be back. And we'll be waiting for them." The excitement and anticipation of the hunt was like a drug, lifting me up from my dark mood, making my blood pump through my veins, making every sense sharper, connecting me to my wolf in the most primal way. I scented the wind and dropped back out of the camp, taking care not to leave my footprints or my scent. I found a good hiding place downwind and slid into the underbrush to wait. This was it, this was what I lived for. Fucking William had been good, but it didn't hold a candle to the thrill of the kill.