Ravensong (Green Creek 2)

We breathed.

“This isn’t—I can’t….”

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t suppose you can.”

“Mark,” I choked out, struggling for something, anything that I could say. “I’m coming—we’re coming back. Okay? We’re—”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe your promises anymore,” he said. “I haven’t for a very long time. Watch yourself, Gordo. Take care of my nephews.”

And then he was in the house, the door closing behind him.

I stepped off the porch and didn’t look back.

I SAT in the garage that bore my name, a piece of paper on the desk before me.

They wouldn’t understand. I loved them, but they could be idiots. I had to say something.

I picked up an old Bic pen and began to write.

I HAVE to be gone for a while. Tanner, you’re in charge of the shop. Make sure you send the earnings to the accountant. He’ll handle the taxes. Ox has access to all the bank stuff, personal and shop-related. Anything you need, you go through him. If you need to hire someone to pick up the slack, do it, but don’t hire some fuckup. We’ve worked too hard to get where we are. Chris and Rico, handle the day-to-day ops. I don’t know how long this is going to take, but just in case, you need to watch each other’s back. Ox is going to need you.

IT WASN’T enough.

It would never be enough.

I hoped they could forgive me. One day.

My fingers were stained with ink, leaving smudges on the paper.

I TURNED off the lights in the garage.

I stood in the dark for a long time.

I breathed in the smell of sweat and metal and oil.

IT WASN’T quite dawn when we met on the dirt road that led to the houses at the end of the lane. Carter and Kelly sat in the SUV, watching me through the windshield as I walked up, a pack slung over my shoulder.

Joe stood in the middle of the road. His head was tilted back, eyes closed as his nostrils flared. Thomas had told me once that being an Alpha meant he was in tune with everything in his territory. The people. The trees. The deer in the forest, the plants that swayed in the wind. It was everything to an Alpha, a deep-seated sense of home that one could find nowhere else.

I wasn’t an Alpha. I wasn’t even a wolf. I never wanted to be.

But I understood what he’d meant. My magic was as ingrained in this place as he was. It was different, but not so much that it mattered. He felt everything. I felt the heartbeat, the pulse of the territory that stretched around us.

Green Creek had been tied to his senses.

And it was etched into my skin.

It hurt to leave, and not just because of those we were leaving behind. There was a physical pull an Alpha and a witch felt. It called to us, saying here here here you are here here here you stay because this is home this is home this is—

“Was it always like this?” Joe asked. “For my dad?”

I glanced at the SUV. Carter and Kelly were watching us intently. I knew they were listening. I looked back at Joe, at his upturned face. “I think so.”

“We were gone, though. For so long.”