The Wildflower Series

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The Wildflower Series Page 39

by Rachelle Mills


  “I will die with your secret. I will make the call. Thank you, Rya, for everything.”

  “This is my last day with your pack. I need to leave. My job is done. You’re starting your heat, all of you. I hope you have a successful outcome. Tell them that I said goodbye, that I wish them the best. I’ll start packing. I expect an answer from that pack within the hour. If not, I’m going my own way.” I try to sound as if I couldn’t care either way, but in reality, I’m bluffing. I need the milk for those pups.

  The Luna leaves, but not before hugging me one last time.

  Packing my belongings, I know I can do this, make the connections I need to help with something that is bigger than me. I might not have liked Kennedy, but I will fight for her pups’ survival. I will do everything I can to help them survive.

  Within the hour, the Luna’s back with directions to the next pack that takes me slightly closer to the ocean. I give her the address to the Valentines’ pack. Again she assures me that everything that can be done for them will be.

  Later the next night, my phone rings. Smiling to myself, I answer.

  “Thank you, Rya,” Luna’s Grace says even before I can say hello.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” Trying to play dumb with her is beyond my skill level.

  “How did you manage this? We asked them how they knew. They remained tight-lipped, just saying when the delivery date is each week. They wouldn’t give us any more information. They said that they would take nothing in return. I found it odd that the female who was driving such a long way was going into her heat. For some reason, I thought of you.” She persists with her questioning.

  “Odd you thought of me.” I wonder what couple delivered the milk. Who took all the time to drive that distance only to drop off what was needed and turn around again?

  “Rya, now listen to me. I know it’s you. Tell me how?” She pronounced each word clearly, with an edge to it, leaving me no choice but to tell her something.

  “They owed me a favor.” That’s all I say, no need revealing too much of my activities.

  “A favor? Rya, you’re sounding and acting like a true Luna.” I need to change the subject.

  “How’s Cash doing?”

  “He’s still in shock, but he’s surviving.”

  “Tell him everything I do is for him and them.” It’s hard to get the words out.

  “I will, Rya.”

  Taking a few days to myself to grieve, I pull into this new pack house with a fresh supply of tea and magic pixie dust. That thought gives me a little laugh. All these wolves believing in magic and I’m the one to bring it in a special tea. It’s really ginger tea infused with vitamins. My morning sickness is just starting to grip me, and I need every trick and knowledge I have obtained with my training to be used on myself now. This is the beginning of the second month and I know I have a few hard months ahead of me.

  Opening the door to this pack house stands an older looking couple, the Alpha with white hair, his mate’s skin translucent, showing her blue veins all wrinkled with age. They are older than what I’m used to in a ruling pair. They are well past their prime but continue to rule anyway. Different cultures have different ways to go about things. I once heard that mates paired for a long time even die around the same time, one from natural causes, the other from heartache.

  That’s what love does: it leads to death from heartache.

  The Luna places her cheek against mine, inhaling deeply before pulling away.

  “Sorry for your loss.” At first, I’m not sure what she means, then realization set in: she can smell I’m pregnant without a mate’s mark. She must think my mate has died and my mark faded.

  “Thank you.” That’s all I say. Let them believe what they want to believe. I’m not here to tell my life story. I’m on the trail of meat, except its milk that I’m after.

  This gives me a purpose to continue on, to go from pack to pack. It’s as if I’m a wanderer but with a set goal. The ocean is just within reach, yet my path detours off course constantly.

  Month three has me starting to lose some weight, just a little. The craving for Dallas is beyond what’s normal. My body feels unsettled, in a state of constant worry that we are not safe without his presence. All the Alphas of the packs that I visit pledge their protection to me. Nothing will touch me as long as I am in their territory. I am safe with them.

  That eases my mind slightly, yet I do ask for a silver knife that I keep hidden and on me at all times. A little reminder for anyone who challenges me I will not go down easily. Teeth and claw against silver, not a fair fight, but I would do permanent damage before I’m taken out.

  From this pack, I learn that age is valued, that the elders of the pack are the leaders, warriors are the up and coming, but it’s the elders who govern and make pack decisions with the Alpha having the final say. I’m taught to make perogies from scratch from the old mamas. They use it as an excuse to get together and drink. It’s funny watching old female wolves getting together laughing, drinking, and talking with the filthiest mouths that I have ever heard. The stories about their youth have me blushing. They get out their phones that some have a hard time working, showing me pictures of their grandchildren.

  One older wolf, who looks wobbly on skinny legs, has a devious smirk to her. Pulling out her phone, she passes it around to the other wolves, saying, “Look at the picture I had the neighbor take. I put it as my profile picture on Facebook.”

  It’s her with a beer in her hand, smoke hanging out her mouth while driving a riding lawnmower. “It drove my son crazy as soon as I put it up.” She snickers to the rest of her friends, and they all howl with laughter. They try to one-up each other who can get the best reaction out of their young. She won the twenty bucks this month with that picture. She pockets the twenty in her bra, winking at the rest of the mamas.

  I love watching the interaction of these loving females. Friend love is good love.

  Cash’s twins are surviving. Caleb tells me that everyone is taking shifts, helping raise those pups as if they belonged to everyone and not just Cash. Everyone has claimed them as their own. It feels good that the pack bands together in times of need, helping someone who is in need.

  Community, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

  Rya: How are you?

  My message to Cash every week is the same, yet he hasn’t answered me back. I hope he sees my effort.

  Month four has my pants just barely doing up. I can’t button them anymore. I resort to skirts and sundresses. The heat is oppressive this far south. My hair’s growing out slightly in its own messy style that’s all mine.

  This is the month I feel his fishtail kicks, as he flops and twists inside me. At first, I thought it was gas bubbles, but as I really sat still, I could feel him running around in there, happy and content.

  He will be a strong male.

  I feel as if the moon herself is cradling me in her hands. This pregnancy is going so easy for me.

  I’m so lucky.

  Giggling, never would I use those words to describe myself, but now they are my everyday words. How lucky I am, I constantly think this as I feel my love inside me. I can’t stop the way my hands find that they love to rest on top of the small forming bump. The way he kicks when I put the phone to my stomach and Dallas’s voice comes over saying he’s unavailable to take the message.

  Just that short message has the pup reacting in bursts of energy. I have never left a message, preferring just to hear his voice tickle my skin.

  It soothes me to hear his voice even if it’s in a message of “please leave a message.”

  I had a dream about Dallas the other night, about our twisting bodies, naked, coming together hard and satisfying. This dream only left an ache between my thighs that’s not satisfied. I have to prepare myself that I might not see him for a very long time. That makes me whimper inside. I have to be prepared he will never forgive me.

  Can I share my male with Dallas if he doesn’t want me
? A very little whisper mists up my back, tentacles anchoring into my spine, pulling dark thoughts into my mind.

  He could take him away from you.

  He wouldn’t do that, I always say back, but there is a little fear, if I’m honest with myself.

  Whenever I bump into wolves, it’s always the same “sorry for your loss.” Their eyes always fall to my unmarked neck, then looking away quickly, like I have a birth defect of some kind. I always respond with a thank you and go about with what I’m doing.

  Month five has me needing to buy my first pregnancy clothes—nothing but bright colors. Everything flowing from the pretty blouses, skirts all floral and layered, providing me warmth while fall is starting to roll in with cool winds from the north.

  Eccentric. That’s what some of the wolves say about me now.

  I look as if I’m a gypsy and feel like a nomad, not tied down to one place. Doing things I only dreamed of doing. The postcards to my parents telling them of my adventures, never a return address on them, and in a way I feel guilty for not telling them I’m expecting, but the more I let my secret stay a secret, the harder it’s getting to actually tell them.

  No other packs are needed for the supply line of milk. It’s time for me to touch the ocean with my bare feet.

  Month six, no hiding my belly—it’s growing more and more with each day. I make it to the ocean’s edge, driving along the coast.

  It’s big sky and blue water, the waves white tipped in the gusting wind.

  I’ve been looking for just the perfect house to den up in. I need something small, secure, and private. The off-season for beach rentals is winding down, and I have a few that I googled that will rent me the home for six months. All I have to do is decide on the right location.

  My hunt is not a successful one. This is the last stop before I have to research my options again.

  I pull up to a private drive made with a mixture of small rock and sand that the tires crunch on. The homes are hidden behind thick layers of trees and bushes.

  Following the curved road, I smile to myself with the way these little shore houses are lined up. All bright colored and well-maintained on the outside.

  Getting out of the car, I hear the waves crashing against the shore. The sea breeze moistens the air I breathe in. A chorus of screaming seagulls talk to each other from up above.

  The owner of this property wants to meet me before she will rent anything to me.

  The house itself is perfect. It’s light blue, matching the sky. White window trim with storm shutters. If I was to guess, it might only hold two bedrooms…perfect.

  No one is around to meet me yet, so I go to the beach side of the home. A large deck looking out toward the sea, the sand brushing against the steps. I can picture myself sitting on the porch having tea, watching the sunrise in the early morning hours. The constant crashing of the tide will lull me to sleep at night.

  I found my place.

  I walk toward the ocean. The water laps at my ankles, and my feet sink into the sand as every wave flows in and ebbs out.

  Snapping a picture of my feet with the foaming water swirling around my toes, I send it to Caleb.

  Caleb: You made it!

  His reply to me instant.

  Rya: I did!

  Caleb: I’m happy for you, Rya.

  Rya: Thanks, is he back yet?

  Can’t help but ask every time I talk to him. I get no instant reply this time. I wait for his reply before I text him again.

  Rya: ?

  Caleb: He’s been back for two weeks now.

  He’s been home for two weeks and hasn’t called me, no contact, no text…nothing. All the hope that I have been clinging to is slowly slipping away as each wave goes back into the sea.

  Rya: oh.

  That’s the last thing I text to him as I throw my phone as far as I can into the water. The splash it makes is barely heard over the music of the great big blue.

  My hope is gone.

  “Hello,” a female’s voice calls out from around front.

  “Hi, just looking at the view,” I call out to her above the pulse of the water.

  We both round the house at the same time, almost bumping into each other. She takes a fighting stance instantly, and I go for my knife. Her fur ruffled up, my need to flee shaking my legs.

  The both of us back up, giving space between the wolves who don’t know each other. She half circles me, while I follow her body.

  “She-wolf, this is my land. Why are you here?” A growl rumbles out her chest that would make Alpha Clinton take notice of this Female Alpha.

  “I never knew this was wolf territory. I apologize.” Another step backward toward the safety of my car. The knife’s handle digs into my closed palm.

  Coffee brown eyes regard the knife in my hand. Her eyes travel up my rounded form, taking in my neck where I bear no mark. Her posture changes from balancing on the balls of her feet to skittish wariness.

  I relax barely. My heart thumps hard in my chest. My pup inside me stills, not moving with the threat of danger.

  “Be calm, she-wolf. I won’t hurt you.” The voice of truth hits my ears. She holds my eyes while she says this; they take on a topaz look now.

  Regarding her, she’s the color of warm caramel, and her cheeks have a touch of cinnamon with being out in the sun. Her full lips start to angle upwards in a honeyed smile. Locks cascade down her back in tiny braids that have been woven by nimble fingers.

  Shoulders of strong muscles that angle down into a slim waist and ample backside, lean smooth legs that are toned from someone who runs. She’s a fantasy that males would have a hard time walking away from.

  “Sorry for your loss.” Those are her words as once again her eyes fall to my neck.

  “Thank you.” It’s a cautious start of words.

  “Is it just you and your male?” She looks at my stomach.

  “Yes, that’s it. I need somewhere to stay. I have money to pay you. I won’t be any trouble.” I try to cover the desperation in my voice.

  “Why are you not with your own wolves?”

  “I need some time away.” I keep my answers short. I’m not giving anything away. She’s looking like she’s trying to put the pieces of me together. They won’t fit, but I will let her believe she knows me.

  “I don’t want any trouble.” Arms cross over her chest, fingers tapping along her forearms.

  “You won’t get any. It’s just us.” I touch my belly, giving it a rub of reassurance.

  “All right, I tend to keep to myself, so don’t expect me to socialize with you. You’re on your own, understand. I’m not someone you can count on.”

  “I understand.” My words hold a smile because I don’t want to socialize either.

  “Come, I’ll show you the inside. My name’s Belac.” She holds her hand out like humans do.

  “Rya.” Putting my own hand out, we shake before pulling away quickly.

  The way she leads me toward the house has me marveling at how she owns her own swagger. A female in complete control of her body.

  Pausing at the door, looking out into the expanse of water that goes on more than the eye can see. This will be the place I birth my pup. I’ll do this without him. When I’m ready, I’ll call and tell him about his male.

  Hopefully, Dallas will forgive me for this.

  Chapter 18

  Trail Of A Wolf Part One

  Dallas

  Howls long and soft fade with the distance I’m putting behind me. The trees fly by in a hazy blur. The wolf has grown since being away, giant paws crushing leaves, snapping twigs every time one touches the ground, only to lift up again in a run that pushes its limits.

  He has pushed every physical limit there is to push.

  I’m more than what I was when I went away.

  Making it back in record time, he prowls the perimeter of the house. The wolf marks the building as its own over top of his father’s strong wolf scent.

  My father sits on a
chair as if he’s been waiting for me. He tosses a robe at me to put on as I shift for the first time in I don’t know how long.

  “Welcome back, my male.” His voice is deep and thick, the way I remember it.

  “How long?”

  “You’ve been gone for six months.”

  “Six.” I knew I was gone a long time, but it felt as if it were only a month.

  “You’ve grown.” His eyes take me in. I even feel taller, wider. I feel as if I put on twenty-five pounds of pure muscle.

  “We have some things to discuss before you go inside.” His tone doesn’t sit well with me.

  “First off, I want you to know that this was my decision to keep you where you were. There was nothing you could do.” My eyes don’t leave him. I can hold his eyes now.

  “Kennedy died giving birth to the pups, and Rya has left her home pack. We aren’t sure where she is.” The news falling from his mouth slams into my chest. My vision sways slightly.

  “What?” It comes out quieter than I want it to.

  He’s trying to explain the situation to me, but my heartbeat is rushing too hard in my ears to hear everything he’s saying.

  It’s too much.

  “It was the best choice to leave you out there.”

  “Alpha, you thought that was the best choice!” I flash my father my sharpened fang that’s been feasting on nothing but raw flesh and bone for months. The Alpha doesn’t take too kindly to it.

  “It was a decision I made, so yes, at the time I felt it was for the best. What would have happened if we came for you? Would you have listened to us? We wouldn’t have even been able to get into range of you to pull you back. You had to come back on your own. You knew that when you went out there that you needed to come back on your own.” He gets up from his chair in a smooth motion. A step toward me, I don’t like how he took that step. My wolf doesn’t like it either. He’s used to being a leader wolf, all puffed up with the strength he’s built over the last six months.

 

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