by Jody Morse
After she finished removing all the fleas she could find from Nuka’s fur, Samara started her way outside. The tent that Luke had pitched in the backyard was visible through the porch light that was casted over the backyard.
“Boys, you’re all so helpless,” Samara muttered as she climbed inside the tent, zipping it closed behind her. As she flopped down beside Luke, she realized how exhausted she was from removing all of the fleas.
Luke raised an eyebrow at her. “You underestimate us. We’re not all helpless,” he murmured, as he pulled her closer to him, and traced his fingers down her spine.
It felt like every muscle in her body was being electrified by his touch. Goosebumps shot up and down her skin and, with his arm wrapped around her waist, she felt something stir inside of her.
It felt like the heat contained in their tiny tent was growing thicker and more intense, as a sense of warmth took over her cold body.
Samara leaned over and pressed her lips against Luke’s. She kissed him slowly and gently at first, but as their tongues met and Luke pressed his hands against the small of her back, a sense of urgency rushed over her.
She gave into the kiss and, pressing her body against Luke’s, inhaled his pineapple peppermint scent.
Luke pulled himself away from her and began planting a trail of kisses down her neck. He slipped his hands under her shirt, slowly moving upwards.
Samara felt another electrifying wave of ecstasy wash over her body as Luke’s hand slipped underneath the bra she was wearing and lightly glazed over her breasts.
Every inch of her body didn’t just want him at that moment; she needed him.
When she met his hungry, pleading emerald green eyes, she whispered, “I’m ready.” His eyes widened in question, and Samara nodded, encouraging him to go further.
Luke leaned forward to pull her shirt over her head, but the delicate cotton material ripped down the center at his strength and urgency. He pressed himself against her and, releasing a territorial, throaty growl, bit into her neck.
The feeling of his teeth sinking into her skin sent shivers down her spine, and she felt herself squirming beneath him as his cold but fiery skin brushed against her own.
Samara pressed her lips against Luke’s again. She could feel his hunger and desperation as he kissed her back, deeply and frantically. His tongue pressed against hers, sending that icy fiery feeling throughout her entire body, and she frantically struggled to unzip his jeans.
“Stop,” Luke whispered, pushing her away from him.
Staring at him in confusion, Samara felt her heart drop as a wave of disappointment washed over her body. Why was he rejecting her? She thought he wanted this, but maybe she had been wrong.
And then she smelled it. The scent was musky and even though she could tell that it was far away, she knew the scent all too well. It was the Vyka.
Wake up guys, Samara said, tapping into her pack members’ minds. We have visitors.
Chapter 17
Luke pulled off his own shirt and handed it to Samara. “Here, wear this. I don’t want any of the guys seeing you without a shirt on,” he said, motioning to her bare chest.
Samara glanced down at herself and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. All that she had on was the light pink lacy bra that she had been wearing underneath the shirt Luke had ripped in half.
Her hands brushed against his as she took the shirt from him, and part of her wanted to tell him that she wanted to just shut the tent again and close the door to the outside world so that they could finish what they had started.
But she couldn’t. They had more important things to worry about right now . . . like why the Vyka were in Alaska, and what they were going to do in the event of an attack.
Once they climbed out of the tent, the rest of the pack was already rushing towards them.
“We smell them, too,” Colby hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “I think they’re about a mile away.”
“How did they even figure out we were here?” Kyle asked, shaking his head. “I thought they were supposed to be in Massachusetts.”
Samara wondered the same thing, but she couldn’t come up with an answer. “I don’t know, but we need to act quickly.” She thought fast, and an idea came to her—an idea that would give them a fighting chance, at the very least. “Chris and Steve, I need the two of you to go in the house to find some string or something that can work the same way as string.”
Chris and Steve both gave her a funny look before, surprisingly without questions, darting back to the house to do as they were told.
Samara turned to Colby and Josh. “You two go into the greenhouse and pick enough wolfsbane for us to all wear it around our necks, okay?”
“Okay, we will,” Colby agreed, and they both hurried off towards the greenhouse.
“The rest of us are going to keep guard of the house,” Samara told Luke and Kyle. “If they come anywhere near the yard, we need to be prepared for an attack. We need to come up with a plan of action.” She felt the nerves and anxiety building up within her, and for a moment, she was positive she was going to vomit right there in the snow behind the cabin.
“Just relax,” Luke told her. “We still have some time. But once we have the wolfsbane, we need to get the hell out of here. We might be able to hide our scent so that they can’t follow us when we leave but they might be able to trace us here still since we already left a trail.”
“The box,” Samara said, remembering the chest that her grandfather had left for her. There was no way she could let the Vyka find everything in it . . . especially not the letter from her grandfather telling her that the key to becoming stronger was wolfsbane. The last thing they needed was for the Vyka to become even more powerful than the Ima than they already were, assuming that they didn’t already know her grandfather’s secret weapon.
Once Samara was in the house, she pulled everything out of the box. She stuffed the address book, the letters, the directions to the talisman back in Pennsylvania, and the compass in her purse. At that moment, her phone started ringing loudly.
“Of all times,” she groaned. She was about to hit the ‘ignore’ button, but she glanced down at the caller ID. It was her mother.
Why was her mother calling now? It was late, and she should probably be in bed. Then, she realized that her mom was probably confused with the time difference between the Bahamas and Pennsylvania—throw into the mix the time difference from Pennsylvania and Alaska, and it was probably already morning or something in the Bahamas.
“Mom?” she asked frantically into the phone.
“Samara! I can’t believe we haven’t talked all week!” Mrs. McKinley chirped into the phone, her voice full of excitement. “How’s everything going?”
“Fine,” Samara replied, keeping an eye out the back window, making sure that the Vyka weren’t sneaking up on them from behind. She turned all off all of the lights in the house, except for a dim lamp, in hopes that no one would notice that they were inside the cabin.
“How’s school going?”
“It’s okay,” Samara said nonchalantly. “How’s your trip going?”
“It’s been so much fun so far. I’m so glad that you convinced us to go because we’ve been having a really amazing time,” Mrs. McKinley said, as Chris waved a piece of thread in front of Samara’s face.
“Perfect,” she mouthed to him. Into the phone, she said, “That’s great, Mom. I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“Have you been thanking Aunt Rae for everything she’s been doing for you since we’ve been gone?” Mrs. McKinley asked.
“Yes,” Samara lied, closing her eyes. She hated not being able to tell her mother the truth—which was that she might die in Alaska tonight if they had a bad run-in with the Vyka or the Savia. At that moment, she heard a loud bang from outside. “Mom? I have to go. I have homework to finish before school.” She paused. “I love you. And tell Dad I love him, too.”
“I love you, too, baby,” her mom s
aid into the phone. “Goodnight. We’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Yeah, see you Saturday,” Samara muttered. When she hung up the phone, she could feel her hands shaking. What if this was the last time she would ever talk to her mother again?
Trying not to think about that possibility, Samara asked, “Did anyone else hear that noise?”
“It sounded like a car hitting a tree or something to me,” Luke replied. “I don’t think it was anything, but we still need to hurry if we’re going to get out of here without getting caught.”
Samara nodded and, holding her breath in hopes that it would offer her some of protection from the Vyka, ran outside into the dark night. She ran to the greenhouse to find that Colby and Josh had already opened the door and were making their way back to the house.
“We have the wolfsbane ready,” Josh told her, as he came out of the greenhouse, followed by Colby. They both had armloads of the purple flowers.
“Good, we need them now,” Samara said. She led them back to the house and grabbed the thread that Chris had found. “How are we going to get the flowers on the thread?” she wondered out loud.
“Beats me,” Chris shrugged. “I failed home-ec class.”
“Dude, that’s because you nearly burnt down the school,” Steve commented. Turning to Samara, he added, “I, on the other hand, am an excellent sewer. If you can find a sewing machine, I could probably make you a sweater right now.”
“This is more like jewelry making than it is like sewing,” Samara murmured, as she tried to wrap the thread around one of the flowers without success. “And it’s not like we have a needle or anything, anyway.”
“Actually,” Colby said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a tiny plastic container. “Here.”
“A needle! Perfect!” Samara exclaimed. She felt her forehead wrinkle in confusion. “You just carry a sewing kit around with you?”
Colby nodded. “I always thought it might come in handy sometime . . . like if someone ripped their pants or something.” When Samara stared back at him questioningly, he explained, “That happened to me once when we were doing gymnastics in gym class, and everyone made fun of me.”
“That’s because you were wearing rubber ducky boxers,” Chris said with a snort.
“Well, thank goodness for rubber ducky boxers, then,” Samara muttered, pointing her chin at the needle she held in her hands. With some difficulty, she stuck the thread through the eye of the needle and poked it through the center of one of the purple flowers. She half-expected its petals to crumble as she pulled the thread all the way through, but luckily, they didn’t.
Once she was finished, she handed the first flower-threaded necklace to Luke, who placed it around his neck. She continued threading the flowers until she had given one to each and every one of her pack members. Samara pulled the final completed necklace over her own head. “We better get going.”
“Where are we going?” Steve questioned.
“We could go to Kyana and Orkos’ den,” Josh suggested.
“That’s a good idea,” Samara agreed. “I can’t really think of any other options, anyway. Come on.”
“Wait,” Kyle said, just as they were about to close the door behind them. “What about Nuka?”
Samara hesitated, glancing over at the dog, who simply stared at her and wagged her tail. “I think we can come back for her before we leave Alaska. We’ll have Orkos and Kyana come back and feed her regularly just like they always do until then.”
“But we can’t just leave her behind,” Kyle protested. “She was Grandpa’s dog. He would have wanted us to take care of her. You even said so yourself.”
“Which is why I want to make sure that we keep her safe,” Samara said softly. “If she comes with us, I think she’ll be more of a nuisance than anything else . . . and I really don’t want her to get in the middle of anything. I know Nuka’s immortal, but it would kill me if something did happen to her if we come across the Vyka.”
“I agree that we should come back for her,” Luke said. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before the Vyka find us before we find them.”
*
When they got closer to Kyana and Orkos’ den, Samara noticed a different scent. It was musky, but it also smelled of almonds. Had Jason and the Vyka tried to cover up their scent so that she and her pack wouldn’t be able to find them so easily? Sneaky, maybe, but smart—and either way, she was on to them.
As they entered the door of the den, the scent grew stronger and Samara began to panic. Were the Vyka already here? Maybe they had tracked down their scents to the den. . . . Why hadn’t she thought that the Vyka may come to look for her here? They should have stayed far away from Kyana and Orkos to keep them safe, but now it was too late to turn back.
As Samara began walking into the tunnel-like den, she heard Kyana scream, “Leave us alone!”
Samara’s heart dropped to her knees, and she ran forward. Kyana was tied up to a wooden chair, and Orkos was sprawled out on the ground with his eyes closed. Was he even conscious?
A man’s voice sounded from the kitchen, and Samara quietly crept forward to see who Kyana had been screaming at.
Norm and Martin both stared back at her, their eyes filled with a look of rage.
The scent didn’t belong to the Vyka, after all; now that she was up close, she realized that the scent should have been familiar—it belonged to the Savia.
“So, we meet again,” Norm chuckled when he saw Samara. He took a step closer to her, and she backed up, straight into Luke’s arms.
“What do you want with Kyana and Orkos?” Luke growled at them, protectively stepping in front of her.
“We thought we smelled you, so we came here to remind you that we want you gone. Old Orkos here decided to give us a warning to leave your pack alone. No one gives us orders. Not when your mate, as you call her,” Martin sneered, “is the one who made a death threat to someone on our pack.”
“I didn’t—” Samara started to say in defense of herself, but she stopped talking when Luke took a step forward, fists clenched.
“My mate hasn’t threatened anybody,” Luke replied, his voice deep and territorial. “So, I suggest you get out of here.”
Norm took a step closer, inches away from Luke’s face. “We told you to stay out of our territory . . . but it doesn’t look like you’ve left yet.”
“That’s because we just had to come say goodbye to Orkos and Kyana,” Colby spoke up. Samara couldn’t tell if he was intimidated by them or not. If he felt anything like her, he was probably more nervous that the Vyka were on their way to the den right now. They needed to get out of here, quick, before Jason and his pack had a motive to hurt Kyana and Orkos, too.
“Get the hell out of here and soon,” Martin growled. “If you ever come back anywhere near our territory, I’ll make you wish you didn’t.” He exited the den, and Norm turned to follow him, eyeing their pack as he left.
“What the hell,” Steve said once they were gone.
“What the hell is right,” Colby added. “I think you’re correct, Sam. We don’t need to worry about them. They seem to be more talk than anything else.”
“No, I think you’re wrong. They’re more than just talk,” Kyana groaned, shaking her head. “Can somebody please untie me?”
Samara got down on her knees and began unknotting the ropes that held Kyana in place in the chair. “I can’t believe they tied you up. What happened exactly?” Martin had already given his take of the story, but she wanted to hear it from Kyana, too, to get a better idea of what they were dealing with.
“They came here looking for you—just like they said,” Kyana explained. “And then they hit my father over the head with this chair before tying me up. They actually seemed more interested in hurting me . . . probably because they saw me at the nightclub with you. But then Papa got in the way . . . He tried to protect me from them.” Shivering at the memory, she glanced down at her dad, who still hadn’t risen to conscious
ness yet. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“Of course he’s going to be okay,” Kyle replied, his lips dancing ever so slightly, as though he wanted to smile, but knew that he shouldn’t. “He wasn’t in wolf form when they hurt him. And they didn’t shoot him, either, right?”
Kyana nodded. “You’re right, they didn’t.” She breathed a sigh of relief, obviously remembering that there was no way a werewolf could die through a physical altercation like this when they were in human form. “It just startled me is all.”
“I can only imagine,” Samara commented. “Are there any doctors around? Do you think you can get him to one? He probably does have some injuries.”
“I’ll call someone to come check him out,” Kyana replied, grabbing a cell phone from a pile of rocks in the corner of the den. Samara realized for the first time how strange it was that Orkos was old school, believed in living in dens and not sending his daughter to a public school—and yet, he had a cell phone. It almost seemed hypocritical.
After Kyana asked someone to come over right away, she glanced down at her hands. “There’s something that I need to tell you, Samara.”
“What is it?” Samara asked.
“I asked my father, before he was injured, if it would be okay for me to become an Ima,” Kyana began. “He told me it wasn’t. He said that I must stay here, and continue belonging to the pack that is rightfully mine . . . the pack I was destined to be on.”
“I’m so sorry, Kyana,” Samara began. “But maybe it’s what’s best for you. I know you’ll miss Josh, but . . . it probably would have been really hard for you to leave your family and your pack, anyway.”
Kyana shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t have. I mean, yes, I would miss my father . . . and my brother. But the truth is, I don’t feel like I really belong here. I want to be part of a pack that’s more modern—one that will let me make my own choices.”
