Henry nodded. “Be careful.”
“Always am.” Damon closed the door.
Her father started up the car, and away they were on the journey. She sat back, aware of her father’s looks in the rearview mirror.
“You can stop being angry at me.”
“Holly, it was a nightmare that night. I didn’t even know if you had made it and now you’re going back with me.”
“I’m doing what I need to do. Both of you are going back. Someone needs to be watching your backs.” She breathed out a sigh of relief. Sitting back in the car, she glanced up at the ceiling.
She hated cars. They were a necessary evil, but she much preferred walking. There was nothing better than feeling the earth beneath her feet. Shoes were another problem for her as well.
Back home, she’d often be found wandering the streets with nothing on her feet. The kids used to always giggle about that fact. There was so much she missed about the love and comfort of home.
No one talked.
She watched Damon and her father in between staring out the window.
“How long have you been without a pack, son?” her father asked.
“I’m not your son. We’re the same age.”
“Ah, so you’re nearly seventy years old?”
Holly smiled.
“You’re seventy?” Damon asked.
“I’ve got good genes. Part of being a happily mated alpha and wolf, we age slowly. It’s another reason I avoid war and violence. Hurting others will guarantee bringing enemies to your front door. I’m a peaceful man. My pack values peace. We have no interest in all that other nasty business.”
“You do know that makes you rare, right?”
“I’m guessing you came from a violent pack. One where the alpha was challenged in a fight. Am I right?”
“Have you ever been challenged?” Damon asked.
“Several times.”
“And you’ve killed your competition? And here I thought you were a peaceful man.”
Her father chuckled. “You’re not a very trusting man, are you? I have fought. I said I don’t like to fight, not that I haven’t ever fought. I do not harm any of the men or women who have tried to take my place within the pack. Of course there has to be a fight. A challenge is handed out, and it must be met. What I don’t do is kill them or hurt them. I disarm them. There is more to fighting than the kill, and there is a lot of power in mercy.”
Damon snorted. “You’re going to die one day. You’re too forgiving.”
“This coming from a forty-year-old lonely wolf against a seventy-plus alpha of a large pack. I believe I’m the one with the experience here, son.”
She tried not to laugh, but it was so hard not to. Damon sounded so cocky and sure of himself. It wasn’t attractive, but knowing what she did, the packs he’d met before, they had hurt him deeply. The scars he carried were in mind and body. They consumed him and stopped him from trusting anyone else.
One day, she hoped he would be able to find the peace and love of a pack. Even if he didn’t accept hers.
They drove well into the night, stopping to fill the car with gas and to sleep. She knew they’d been running for a long time. The journey in total took three days. They were getting closer to the full moon, and her wolf was itching to get out. After everything that happened in a short space of time, her nerves were shot.
Her father finally pulled over onto the side of the road.
The forests that surrounded them was home. The smells were familiar. Where they once brought her comfort, now she only saw pain.
“Home is ten miles that way,” her dad said. “We need to go through the forest. We’ll be able to sense any other people close by. The wind is in our favor.”
Damon opened the car door, and Holly climbed out of the back, looking around. She closed the door quietly, feeling sickness swirling in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t good.
In the back of her mind, the screams of that night lingered.
She recognized the tension in her father’s shoulders and immediately wanted to comfort him.
“Do you want to take the lead?” Damon asked.
If he sensed the discomfort, he didn’t allow it to show. She didn’t know if that made her happy or sad.
“Yes,” her dad said.
Damon reached for her hand, and she slid hers into his, following behind him.
She kept looking around, listening closely. She heard the rustling of the trees from the wind and felt it on her cheeks. Up ahead, she heard scurrying of bunnies as they sensed predators. In all the years she’d been turning a wolf, she had never eaten a bunny. The key to not eating any wildlife prior to turning was eating lots. Sating your wolf before a run, which made no sense, seeing as anyone who ate a large snack would feel sick. It worked for her wolf. She never wanted to eat rabbit. The very thought of it made her feel sick.